The Littlest Winchester - Princess Tea Party

            “Daddy! No!” The four-year-old grabs the empty plastic cup from Dean’s hand and rather forcefully sets it back on the play table. “It’s not ready yet!”

            “But what if I’m thirsty?”

            “You gotta wait.” She crosses her arms and glares at him.

            “Gosh, you’re bossy.”

            This makes the little girl laugh as she tries to maintain an in charge attitude.

            “Don’t start until everybody’s here. It’s not polite.”

            “Fine.” Dean rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at her.

            “You gotta dress up, too.”

            “Dress up? I thought I was.” Dean looks down at his outfit. It consists of his normal flannel shirt and jeans.

            “Not like that!” She does an exaggerated face palm and then plants her hands on her hips. “You have to be a princess for a princess tea party!”

            “Oh, I see. So what would you like me to do?”

            Now a bit more excited, the four-year-old dashes over to a toy chest in the corner of the room and digs up one of her several tiaras. After deciding that it will work, she runs back over to her father and extends her arms to place it on his head. Though he’s seated cross-legged on the floor, Dean still has to bend down a little so she can reach.

            “Is that good?” He queries.

            “Nope.”

            “What else do I need?”

            “A boa!” Grinning widely, the girl dashes back to the toy chest and grabs her brightest, pinkest feather boa. This she drapes over Dean’s shoulders.

            “How do I look now?” He flips one end of the boa over the opposite shoulder with a flair and makes a model face. “Am I a pretty princess?”

            “Yes.”

            “So can we start now?”

            “No! I gotta go get Sammy! You should get Cass!”

            “Should I?”

            “Yes.”

            At the age of four, Dean’s daughter knows that her father’s prayers are a surefire way to get the angel to show up. Dean indulges her by summoning his friend every time the toddler wants to do something with him, and Cass, though he’s usually confused at her antics, seems perfectly happy to go along with it.

            As the girl runs out of the room to find her uncle, Dean sends out a silent prayer to Castiel. The angel appears just moments later.

            “Why do you have a crown on your head?” The angel knits his eyebrows.

            “Dude, it’s a tiara. I’m a princess. Now sit down.”

            Cass obeys and seats himself across from Dean just as the hostess reappears with her uncle in tow. She drags the much taller man – who had to bend over just so she could reach his hand – over to the table and tells him to sit down as well. After all three men have been seated, the little girl goes back to the toy chest and digs out two more tiaras, a plastic jewel necklace, and a rainbow scarf. The necklace she gives to Sam, and Cass gets the boa tied around his torso.

            “There!” She announces with a smile when she’s finished dressing up the three men. “Now you guys can start.”

            Dean knows he’s just asking for a mess, but he’s filled the plastic teapot with water rather than leave it empty, and he picked up a package of store-bought cookies, the kind with the bright pink frosting and sprinkles on top, just for this occasion. Nothing matters more to him than seeing his daughter be happy, and if a mess is the result of her happiness, he won’t complain about cleaning it up.

            For the next fifteen minutes, the three men play along with the girl. Sam even puts on a mock British accent, and Dean follows suit. Castiel is mostly quiet unless asked a direct question. He still isn’t sure about how to handle children. When that time is up though, the toddler’s attention span has timed out, and she starts to rub at her eyes sleepily.

            “Daddy, I’m tired.” She mumbles.

            “Do you wanna take a nap?”

            She only nods and holds out her arms to be picked up. Dean does so, resting her on one shoulder before standing up. Just like always, she balls her hands in his shirt as he carries her out of the room and down the hall to her bedroom. She’s nearly asleep by the time he sets her in her bed and tucks the covers around her shoulders. After planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, Dean starts to head back out into the hall.

            “Daddy?” She speaks with her eyes closed, making him pause.

            “Yeah, sweetheart?”

            “You’re a good princess.”