Three witches hid among the junk and abandoned cars that surrounded Bobby Singer's home. They silently watched the two younger hunters follow the older man into the house. Their target, the black car the two men drove, was parked right in front of the house. They waited till nightfall to continue with their plan.

"Lyndsay!" Hissed one of the witches.

"What?" Lyndsay whispered back. She felt a hand touch her elbow and then a small bag was placed in her palm.

"You're the smallest…make a run for it. If the windows aren't open, try to wedge it between something underneath the body of the car," commanded her fellow witch. Lyndsay gripped the bag as she gulped down her fear.

"Of course the car's parked right in front of the damn house," she muttered.

"What are you waiting for? Go already!"

"I'm going! I'm going!" She snapped as she began to run, hunched over, towards the car. She sighed in relief when she reached the vehicle. She reached a hand up to the driver's window…. No luck. Frowning, she took the tiny leather bag and tried to find a good, snug hiding place for it. She smiled as she tucked it between the tire and…well… something. She had no idea what the anatomy of a car was. Then she shuffled as fast as she could back to her accomplices.

"I did it!"

"Good girl. Here Janet. Start reading."

Janet began. The Latin words flowed from her tongue, and Lyndsay could feel the magic pulsing through the air. The black car vibrated, humming in time with the rhythm of the words. Then it was finished. The book was closed with a smart snap.

"Operation: Sabotage Dean Winchester's Car is complete."

"But…can't he just get another one?" Lyndsay asked.

"Lyndsay, you've seen how much he loves that car. He's going to be in a state of total shock and by the time he gets over it we'll be in California mackin' it up with our cabana boys. Now let's go."

()()()()

The next morning Dean was on the verge of having an aneurysm, a heart attack, and seizure combined. Instead of walking out to find his car, his baby, his beloved Impala…. he found a naked man sleeping on the dusty ground surrounded by bits and pieces of what appeared to be a bumper, a brake light…. and there was the speedometer lying by the mystery man's head.

Dean was off the porch in a flash. He was about to haul the man to his feet and begin demanding to know where his car was when something he saw made him freeze. The man had a tattoo on his lower back, right about his butt.

KAZ-2Y5……

"WHAT THE HELL!" Screeched Dean. With a tuft of the man's sleek black hair in his hands he pulled him to the ground. The man woke with a start and immediately began struggling.

"Wha-What the hell?!" He cried in confusion. Dean had him in a half nelson and was dragging him towards the house.

"Who the hell are you!" Dean yelled.

"AM I? Dean! Dean! It's me! You gotta help me!" The man burst out. This caused Dean to stop for a mere moment before he hurled him to the floor of Bobby's living room.

"Sam! Get your ass down here!" He roared. A grumpy and ruffled Bobby stomped down the stairs first however, still in his pajamas.

"What in tarnation are you yelling about boy? And whaa-Who the hell is that?"

"That's what I'd like to know Bobby, because I found him instead of my Impala!" Ranted Dean. Veins looked like they were going to pop out of his face.

"Dean! What's the matter?" Sam called as he pounded down the stairs. He stopped before he reached the threshold though, confused by seeing a naked, frightened man on Bobby's living room floor.

"Um Dean…. Do you have something to tell me?" Sam smirked. Sam's big brother's head whirled around, and Sam could tell his was pissed with a capital P.

"Yeah, I do have something to tell you Sam. Someone stole the Impala and gave this guy a tramp stamp. And guess what the tramp stamp says!"

"What does it say?" Sam asked, coming into the room

"Kaz, dash, two, y, five," Dean growled. His baby brother's eyes narrowed in recognition.

"Isn't that the Impala's…."

"License plate number? Yeah. It is," Dean snapped. He was starting to calm down though; veins weren't bulging from his forehead anymore. He glared down at the stranger who seemed to be lost in thought.

"Get the poor man some clothes for God's sake!" Bobby rumbled. Suddenly the man spoke.

"Dean."

"How the hell do you know my name?" The eldest Winchester growled.

"I'm your goddamn car!" The man snapped back. Everyone stared. Dean shook his head.

"You're-you're my car?"

"Yes. Want me to prove it?"

"Um, sir…sir, I think you need some help," Sam began gesturing to Bobby. The man looked at Sam with a flat look of irritation.

"I'm not crazy. I'm the damn Impala. Now listen to me. Dean, you lost your virginity on my back seat and panicked because you thought you left a stain. Sam, you took me out on a joy ride when you were 14 because you were pissed at your brother. Who else would know this besides me? Your car?"

Dean was struck dumb by shock, as were the other two men.

"This…. this is…crazy!" He stuttered. "How cou-could…"

"What the hell were you two boys huntin'?" Bobby questioned as he threw a blanket at the…. Impala.

"They were hunting witches. And if you look outside you'll see the hex bag."

"There is no way you are my car! My car is my baby! She's a girl!" Dean cried. The Impala sighed.

"No Dean," he said, frowning. "I-I'm you're baby."

"This is awkward," Sam announced. The Impala and Dean both shot him a glare.

"No shit!"