There were three things Dean hated, all of them dealing in some way with his car.

The first one? Easy. When some damn no good demon would target his baby and in some way hurt her. His Impala was a good damn car, she didn't deserve to have something try and turn her into little more than a tin can.

"Dean, that ghost threw an armchair at the car." Sam pointed out the window, broken now because of said armchair going through it.

Dean flinched minutely, his feet taking him to the window and his eyes finding the black Chevy sitting below. The armchair was lying on its roof, which was now dented, and the front window had spider hair cracks spreading from the middle to the sides. His lips turned down in a frown and he shook his head, "right, this one is going down... Hard. No one, human or otherwise, hurts my baby."

The second thing, well...

"You're going to pick that shit up," Dean looked down at the litter around Sam's feet. "Now."

Sam moved his laptop and glanced down before shrugging and then returning to what he was doing before Dean had spoken. "I'll do it when we stop for the night." he muttered as he slid his fingers across the keyboard of the portable computer. His soft touch turned into a hard grip as the car suddenly squealed to a stop, pulling to the side of the road and then turning off. "Dean! What the hell?"

Dean was sitting quietly behind the wheel, his fingers drumming out a beat against the steering wheel in time with the music exiting the speakers. His flat glare seemed to touch Sam's soul and then try to light it on fire. "Pick your shit up..."

Sam just blinked over at him blankly for a minute, both brothers staying silent until finally Sam sighed, rolled his eyes, and put his laptop to the side so he could start cleaning up the floorboard.

Dean sat and watched, green eyes flat, until Sam had gotten the last of the trash off the floor. When all that remained were crumbs he started the Impala and pulled back onto the road, his frown still in place, "you can vacuum the crumbs up when we get to a car wash."

Finally, the last thing that pissed him off more than the other two. Even more than when the demons, ghosts, and other nasties tried to ruin his poor baby...

A long, low, moan echoed through the dark and deserted parking lot Dean was walking across on his way back to Sam, his baby, and Charlie, Sam's girlfriend. He frowned and looked around, pausing as he wondered whether or not someone or something could be around.

He stopped completely when the sound came again, this time accompanied by a high pitched yelp. Dean started moving again, faster this time, his hand moving to the gun strapped to his side. He finally caught sight of his car, breathing a sigh of relief to see it uninjured, before getting a view of something dark on the trunk. It was barely moving and seemed to have someone, or thing, pinned to the actual trunk part.

He took his gun from the holster and crept forward silently, thumbing the safety off as he went. There was a grunt, slightly pain filled, and he finally made it behind the person on top of the woman sitting on the trunk. He pressed his gun to the back of them, his voice hard as he asked, "Sam, what the hell do you think you're doing on top of my baby?"

All movement from the pair stopped, as if frozen, and bright blue eyes peered over his brothers shoulder, the woman who owned the eyes smiling a little as she moved her arms from around Sam's shoulders.

"Get the gun out of my spine Dean," Sam stated, lifting his face from where it had been buried between Charlie's breasts, his fingers pulling her shirt down. "we didn't desecrate your car."

Charlie smirked cunningly and Dean frowned at her.

"This time you mean," she stated lowly, eyes sparkling with mischief as she flicked her fingers towards the backseat of the Impala. "Sorry about the seat, I know you've been wondering what happened to it."

Dean growled and shifted his glare to Sam who had just turned around and was leaning against the trunk with his arms crossed. "That's it, from now on she's coming with me when we split up. My poor baby shouldn't have to deal with this shit."

He put the safety back on and placed the gun back in the holster, flipping both Sam and Charlie off as he walked around to the drivers side and patted the roof of his car. "It's okay babe, it won't happen. Ever. Again." he promised the car.

His poor baby, and she was still going through hell if his suspicions were correct. Sam and Charlie were getting up to no good, this much he knew, while he was away for an extended period of time. He wasn't blind, deaf, or dumb damn it, he knew what people looked like after they'd had sex or had been doing something else along those lines.

Dean frowned and glanced over the back of the seat, towards Charlie and Sam where they were sitting together in the back. Except they weren't sitting apart anymore, and their heads were too close to be discussing something over the sound of his music. He wouldn't even have noticed them if he hadn't glanced in the rearview mirror.

He lifted his arm and whapped Sam in the back of his head, making the younger Winchester grunt, not like he could hear it over Metallica, and looked around at him with a glare.

Dean ignored that and continued driving down the road, the sun shining on the roof of the Impala.


So I'm jumping into the world of Supernatural, I've watched the show for a good while and got this idea that wouldn't leave me alone. So I decided to write it down and get it over with, so tell me what you think!