A Working Girl.
A little tag to "Provenance." Season one.
The Winchesters drove into the parking lot and swung her heavy steel body in to an empty space between two of the royals of the car world, a Ferrari and a Porsche.
Her boys had work to do; their business was killing evil and hunting things.
She was the proud third member of their team and their only true home.
It was true she didn't provide cooking facilities but certainly Dean had never seen that as a problem!
She chuckled at the thought of him trying to cook ham and eggs on her seats, but then he'd done almost everything else, so...!
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She watched as the brothers made their way into the showroom. She always kept an eye out for them, for if any one could find a shark in a glass of water it would be her two.
They had the luck of the Winchesters all right, a pity that it was all bad!
No matter, those boys made her proud, and how they loved her.
Yep, she was the luckiest Impala in the entire universe.
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She sat there, waiting quietly, lost in pleasant thoughts until she was disturbed by an exaggerated sniff from the spotless, gleaming, red Ferrari to her right.
"What sort of people are they letting in today?" it commented. "I didn't think they allowed just any old trash to park here."
"So true," replied the equally sparkling Porsche at her other side, looking down its nose at her.
"I didn't think we'd be forced to fraternise with such common old bangers in a high class joint like this".
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"I won't give them the satisfaction of an answer," the Impala simmered in anger, "stuck up bitches that they are!"
But the Ferrari continued unperturbed. "Yuck, smell the petrol and oil fumes venting off her, and just look at the dust on her body work; her owner obviously doesn't care enough about her to even give her a wash now and then."
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"Well that does it," she thought to herself. "They can jeer at me all they want but if they insult my boys, especially Dean who couldn't be more attentive to my needs, they're asking for it. So what if I am a bit dusty today? They've been too busy investigating strange deaths to wash me."
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"What a pair of stuck up old bags you are," she answered heatedly.
"I'm a working girl, not like you two kept women who do nothing but sit around and get polished up all day.
I do something useful with my time, like helping my boys save people. But what would you two worthless pieces of metal-work know about that!"
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"Well, what do you know," jeered the Porsche, "the old girl has a temper!"
"You better believe it," she answered.
"Tell me this. What would your owners do if you had a collision with a ten-ton truck and were reduced to a mass of torn metal? Eh?"
"What a stupid question. I'd go to scrap and my owner would buy a new car, but that'll never happen, my owner drives very carefully," bragged the Ferrari.
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"Well, douche bags, it happened to me, and what did my owners do?
They didn't trash me, Dean rebuilt me bit by bit until I was better than new, and do you know why?
He did it because he loves me, and he tackled all the work himself, too. Do any of your owners love you enough to do that?
To spend weeks on end just dedicating themselves heart and soul to you?"
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The cars didn't answer because they knew they weren't loved by their owners, but just used to show off their riches, and the moment they were fed up with the colour, or when a new model came on the market, they'd be sold without a moment's regret.
No one would ever love them as the Impala's owner loved her.
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They both shut up and watched as the two young men strolled smilingly back to the Impala's doors, and wondered just what it would feel like to be loved as passionately as the old black car was.
TBC