Notes: So here is Part II of the Impala Series! This one is based off the episode Train Job. Get ready for train heist shenanigans!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from either Firefly or Supernatural. Purely for entertainment purposes only!

CHAPTER 1

Dean and Sam sit at a dented up wooden table in some decrepit bar that they can't remember the name of. They don't talk as they play a game of mahjong, the tiles clinking softy as they move them about the table. Off to the other side of the bar Meg walks back to their table with a fresh jiu drink and Balthazar is also walking back to the table after talking with a man at the bar. Instead of sitting down when they reached the table however, Balthazar steps behind Dean to look at Dean's hand as he lays down his next tile.

Taking a sip of his drink Balthazar comments, "That's a bold move."

Dean answers tersely, "I like to live on the edge."

Sam and Balthazar both chuckle at this. This was a given fact, and then Sam puts down a tile and wins that hand. Balthazar really laughs at the look on Dean's face as he drops his remaining tiles down in frustration. Meg just smirks like usual.

"Maybe you should move a bit back from the edge there Dean." Meg's teasing always sounds so condescending to Dean. He chooses to ignore her and focus his glare at Sam.

"I was trying to be a good big brother and let Sammy here win to help his self esteem."

Sam's answering snort was drowned out by a dank and moldy looking and loud individual back up by the bar.

"A toast! A toast to…SHUT UP! I've got words that need being said. This is a very special day." He pauses for effect and looks around the bar. Dean and Sam have both tensed visibly and gripped their cups a bit tighter, making Balthazar wary and a bit nervous, but he plays it cool for now. Meg chooses to just ignore everyone and just eats the offered peanuts on the table.

"As you all know, today is…Unification day! The day where the planets were put under one government and one glorious flag and them dirty, rebellious, scumbag Hunters were cut down! And a new galaxy was born! Whooo!" He downs the drink in his hand and smashes the glass on the floor. The rest of the bar echoes his enthusiasm and downs their drinks. Dean just grabs his mug and heads towards the bar. Sam tried to grab his arm as he walked by, but Dean sidestepped the reach easily. Both brothers knew what was coming. It had happened enough in the past.

Balthazar didn't know about the drama that was going off in their minds, so he just started talking about how boring the government holiday was and how people got sentimental and dull instead of having real fun. The Chinese New Year was where it was at according to him, but neither Sam nor Meg was listening.

Meanwhile, Dean had reached the bar and asked for a refill. Right next to him was the loud speech maker who was watching Dean. As Dean received his drink the moldy looking man clapped him on the shoulder, "Drink with me brother!"

"No thanks. I'm just going to go back to my table." As he left a hand grabbed his arm, this time Dean let it happen.

"You know, that colt you're wearing…last time I saw one of those was during the war…and as I recall it was the choice weapon of the Hunters." The suspicion in his voice was heard all over the bar.

"It was shiny looking." Dean responded deadpan.

"Saw you and your friends. None of you joined us in the toast. I'm starting to think you're one of them Hunters."

"And I'm starting to think that you don't know how to work a shower. So why don't we both just walk away and enjoy our drinks from this fine establishment." Dean half turned to walk away, but then faced the man when he continued to talk.

"Hunters ain't nothing but cowardly, sneaky, trouble makers who don't know when to back down." He turned back to the bar snorting into his mug.

"How about you say that to my face?"

Putting down his mug, the man turned around again and repeated himself to Dean with his face so close to Dean's that his eyes started to water from the pungent odor coming from the man's rotten teeth.

"I said, Hunters ain't nothing but cowardly, sneaky, and hard of hearing, trouble makers. What do you gotta say to that?"

"Nothing, I just wanted you to turn around for this." And Dean slams his mug into his jaw. He was very satisfied to hear a crack the cup made contact with the bone in the man's face. And Dean was even more satisfied when he fell to the ground and stayed there unconscious.

By this time Sam and Balthazar have gotten up and are trying to get through the crowd to reach Dean. Meg staying behind to finish her drink, she hadn't been in the war, so it wasn't her problem. Sadly, the downed man had friends it seemed, and now they were circling around Dean.

Dean just smiled brightly at everyone. "Hey guys, doesn't have to be like this. It's a holiday, right?" Then all hell broke loose and five men ran forward at Dean. Balthazar and Sam had snuck into the fray and started to even the odds, but the drunks got some good punches in and Sam was not sore in the ribs from where a very short individual continued to punch him, and Balthazar was going to have one hell of a shiner when he woke up the next day. Dean was holding his own, and was even having a bit of fun working out his frustrations. That is until he gets thrown out the window.

He decides to take his time while he's "out for some air" to call up Gabriel on his comm device.

"Hey Gabe, people here had a bit too much to drink. How about you come pick us up?"

Balthazar and Sam came flying out of the bar after that with the drunks following after. By this time Sam has taken his gun out and Balthazar has positioned himself behind Sam. The drunks don't move much closer, but they still looked pissed as shaken bag of wasps.

Balthazar is panting, "Where the hell is Meg?"

At that moment gunfire is heard coming from inside the bar. Like the red seas parting, a path is formed as Meg walks out of the bar holding her gun high ready to shoot again if the drunks wouldn't get out of her way. She walks closer to her crew, but not too close in case the remaining men were stupid enough to attack again. She looked far to calm and was holding one of the bowls of peanuts in her hands, chewing away. Sam just shook his head at this.

Dean was trying to count the remaining thugs. "Well…there seems to be four of us versus…a herd of you." He turns to Sam. "This is why we lost the war. Superior numbers."

Balthazar looked less than impressed. "Thank you for the reenactment Captain."

The drunks finally found their own gun belts and pulled their weapons to point at the small crew. They were far too intoxicated to notice that the opposition didn't look nervous or worried. They didn't see that really all that they looked like was impatient.

Suddenly there was a loud rumble of an old-time engine and a shadow moved over the crowd. The Impala hovered over everyone threateningly. The P.A. system screamed, and then Gabriel's voice sounded. "All of you drop your weapons or we will blow this shindig to kingdom come."

All weapons were dropped and the drunks stepped back. The Impala let down the ramp and the crew ascended into the offered haven. Dean took a moment to turn back and offer another shit eating grin to the cowed drunks before moving up into his ship with a bit of a hop to his step.

Balthazar was mumbling for the next hour. "Bunch of bullocks….just wanted a bloody drink….damned Captain….damned holidays…can't even bloody tell that there are no bloody guns on a bloody transport ship…."

Sam and Dean head towards the bridge after the scuffle, Sam sending dirty looks at his brother the whole way.

"You know Dean, it's an amazing coincidence that every year on Unification day after the war we find ourselves in a Garrison friendly bar. And how you always end up starting a fight." Dean pretended to not notice the dripping sarcasm in his brother's voice.

"You know, you're right Sammy? I never noticed before. That is quite the coinkydink." He smirks at his little brother. They spot Gabriel in his pilots chair raising an eyebrow at the two.

"Deanie-baby. You getting Sam and my little brother involved in a fight at school? Tsk tsk."

"Had it all under control Gabe. Thanks for picking us up though. The transbus is so lame."

Sam just sighs and leans against the doorway. "Did we at least make contact?"

"Indeed we did. Gentlemen, we have a job." Balthazar walks in saying this and hands a slip of paper he had gotten from his friend at the bar to Dean who smiles.

"Alright guys, fire up the engines. We've got work to do."

Gabe whooped from behind him, "Yeah! We got us some crime to be done!"

And with that the Impala started off to its next destination.

Bobby and Balthazar were sitting quietly in the dining area where the preacher was putting ice on Balthazar's eye. Castiel had immediately offered to heal the wound, but he had his hands pushed back with Balthazar telling him he didn't like seeing his baby brother weak, that it would hurt him to use Catiel more than any black eye could. Castiel felt a little bit dejected, so he moved to the coffee table where he had placed the potted plant that Anna had given him to care for.

It was a very unkempt plant to be nice, and he had told this to Anna who looked startled and then apologized for the condition. The vines had grown out of control and were pouring out the sides of the pot all tangled and limp. There were no flowers yet, and the buds were still immature, it was not the prettiest thing that he had seen before. But Castiel could fix this. He remembered having a garden back…back in their old home. He remembered sitting outside reading his books and having bees land on the pages and walking along the edge of the spine. There were no bees here, going outside would ultimately end up in his death by implosion or suffocation, and home didn't exist anymore.

Heaving a big sigh, Castiel started to continue his work of untangling the vines. There were old thorns on each finger of the plant and he cut himself on one of them. He didn't even flinch in pain, but he still looked at the blood that had welled up on his finger.

He had seen far too much blood, he thought. Suddenly he was in another room. It was a white room with machines placed all around making repetitive noises that grated on his ears. People in white coats and rubber gloves were poking at him with needles, making him flinch, making him bleed. He was lying on his stomach, strapped down. Then he felt the hands touch his back….

Castiel started screaming and grabbing the sides of his head. His high pitched wail didn't stop his brother and Bobby from rushing forward with their ears covered. He felt Balthazar grabbing his shoulders and shaking. He was probably trying to say something, but Castiel couldn't hear him. He was trying to drown out the sounds of those machines. He continued to scream away the terrors.

Suddenly he felt a stinging pain on his cheek and he stopped the shrieking. Dean was there in front of him, his hand still partially raised. Breathing heavily Castiel looked around wildly for any signs of being back at the Host. Seeing the tan walls and old furniture, he was assured that he was still on the Impala. Sam had also arrived in the room.

"Hey Cas, you okay?" Castiel didn't answer Dean. He was still looking around the room. This time he noticed broken glass from the dishware that couldn't handle his wail. He felt guilt at this and looked down.

Balthazar moved forward, "Were you thinking of the Host?"

"It is not of import. I apologize for the trouble." Everyone ignored the apology.

"If you can talk about what happened there... I know it's hard but the more we know, the faster you'll get better," Sam promised.

"I don't want to be made "better". They already made me "better". I just want…to fix the plant." Castiel used air quotes to convey emphasis on the ridiculous term. He watched as Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Probably in frustration. Castiel knew he was being frustrating. But the bruises and cuts on Dean's knuckles drew his attention.

"I can fix that."

Dean looked at where Cas was looking and saw his bloodied and swollen hand. "This? This is nothing, no need to waste your mojo." He smiled at Castiel, it was probably meant to be comforting.

Sam snorted behind him. "Yeah, I bet the face of whoever you hit thinks differently."

Turning to look at his younger brother Dean responded, "People say not to hit with a closed fist, but it can on occasion be hilarious." And the dark mood left the people in the room. They all started to smile a bit. But not Castiel. He had just gotten hit in the face with an open hand, and he didn't find it funny at all.

BWAH! Second story is a go! I'm having soooo much fun writing these. Parallels are waaaaaay to much fun with these two fandoms!