Previously on Supernatural...

"I think he's gonna love seeing you."


The parking lot was jammed with police cruisers and uniforms milling around. Walking into a heavy law enforcement presence always gave Sam an uneasy feeling, but he managed to hide it well. A lifetime of lying to civilians and pretending to be every government agent under the sun gave him a brisk aloofness that helped sell the cover.

Baby, however, kept fidgeting with her jacket cuffs and looking around nervously. One hand would reach up to rake through her dark hair, almost like she was making sure it was still there. When she caught Sam looking back at her, she gave a trembling smile. "Still getting used to the human experience," she said. "Sorry."

"Just...stop fidgeting, you look suspicious." Sam flashed his badge at the rookie cop standing guard on the perimeter. "Special Agent Garfield, FBI. This is my consultant, Paula..." He stumbled before spitting out the first surname he could think of that wasn't Winchester. "Campbell. My partner is already here, I assume?"

"Y-Yes sir," the rookie stammered, head nodding like a bobblehead. His eyes were staring at Baby so hard they were almost bulging from their sockets as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down his throat. "He's talking to the chief."

"Where's the body?" The kid pointed at the white tarp. "Okay, thanks."

Baby giggled as they ducked beneath the police tape. "His headlights looked ready to pop out."

"He probably wasn't expecting an FBI consultant to look like you."

"What's a consultant?"

"Tell you later." Kneeling beside the tarp, Sam lifted a corner to show the dead twenty-something girl lying on her stomach. She was barefoot, her feet cut up the same as the other dead girls. Her short blonde hair was cut in a bob and she was wearing a tight gold dress with almost no back. Tattooed on the exposed skin of her waist was another set of letters and numbers. Another transformed car.

He glanced up at Baby, and noticed the look of confusion on her face. "I don't understand," she whispered. "Her engine isn't just damaged, it's been worn down from the inside out. Like she's been ridden past her breaking point and was never given repairs."

Sam blinked. "You can tell her damage just by looking at her?"

"Can't you?"

"No." He looked around to find his brother and noticed a small group of women tittering to each other, wide-eyed and clearly scared. Careful not to rouse suspicion, Sam stood up and led Baby over to where Dean was speaking with the Valence police chief.

"Another Jane Doe," they heard the chief reporting. "No purse, ID, nothing. M.E's first guess is death from organ failure, same as the other girls." He shook his head as he looked at the body. "My girl's about her age, in college. Poor thing."

"Poor thing," Dean echoed. He let his eyes drift unconsciously to note Sam's approach, then found Baby following him like a small leather-clad shadow. "Excuse me. I need to talk to my partner."

Sam waited until the captain moved away before speaking. "She's another transformed car. Got the tattoo and everything." When Dean didn't reply, he said, "Hey, you okay in there?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine." With a shock Dean realized he was staring at the girl. "You, uh, look good Baby," he said with a smile.

"Paula."

"What?"

"Sammy said that calling me Baby in front of others would be strange, so that's my new name. Paula Campbell." She smiled brightly. "I'm your consultant."

The use of their mother's maiden name made Dean shoot his brother a Seriously? look. Shooting back a smirk of his own, Sam tilted his head to indicate the suspicious trio of women. "Later. Those three women across the street."

Dean pegged them in seconds. "Witch coven?"

"Can't tell for certain. There were no hex bags recovered from the other bodies. But they definitely seem to know something about this dead girl."

Dean groaned. "I hate witches."

"I know dude, but we still need info."

"Say no more." The elder Winchester fixed his suit jacket with a grin. "I'll be right back."

"Hold up there, muscle car," Baby said, placing a hand on Dean's chest to keep him from advancing. Something in her eyes seemed to flicker as she looked at the women. "Let me do these interviews."

"Why?"

"Trust me Dean, I know what I'm doing." Before he could question her further, Baby turned on one heel and headed towards the women. Her swaying hips caught the eye of every male cop she passed, and lust showed plainly on their faces. The tight-fitting clothes showed every curve of her lithe body, displaying a figure that was just as beautiful as the Impala had been. Dean had to clench his fists and grind his teeth to keep from telling them to keep their leering eyes off his Baby.

Sam couldn't help the amused smirk from forming on his lips. "Jealous much?"

"Shut your mouth."


She was still getting used to the difficulties of being human, but Baby could feel her confidence growing with every person she saw. If the deer-in-headlights looks from the males were any indication, she was just as fine-looking a human as she was a car. And as with humans, it was easier to feel confident when you look as good as Baby did.

Fixing her leather jacket, Baby sauntered over to the trio of women with a winning smile. No insult to her boys, but Sammy and Dean weren't always the most tactful of people. Gathering vital information would definitely show them just how useful she was to this hunt.

Besides, she knew how to speak with these particular women.

"Hello ladies," she said to them. To the blonde she added, "Nice paint job."

The women smiled right back at Baby as the blonde said, "Why thank you! It's new." Her eyes looked Baby up and down. "You don't look familiar. Are you new in town?"

"Yeah. I'm called Baby." She held out her hand to each woman in turn. "Wondering if any of you know the poor girl there."

"My name's Madeline. This is Rose," said the blonde as she indicated the redhead beside her. Pointing at the body she sadly added, "That's Sheila. A good girl."

"And you know this..."

"The same way you do." She gestured to her companions. "Same as we all do."

Baby nodded. As she'd thought, more transformed cars. "Make and model?"

"A '73 Fastback Mustang. Old Man Hendrix has had her in his garage since his wife died. Kept her in perfect condition."

"Address?" She quickly wrote down the information as Madeline relayed it. "Any idea what's going on what's giving us a full overhaul and making us human?"

The redhead - Rose - spoke up. "Not sure really, but it's been this way for about three or four months. About twenty of us are human now."

"Some cars around town have been getting changed too. Not as many, though." Madeline gestured to herself. "Lucky for me, a '59 Eldorado made that cut."

Baby nodded. "Lucky me too. I'm a '67 Impala."

"A '67?" Rose repeated in surprise. "I'm an '83 Testarossa and you look younger than me. Your master must take very good care of you."

"Yes, he does." Baby's smile was proud and polite. "So nobody knows who's changing us?"

The third woman, much younger than her companions and wearing green, spoke up. "No. Whoever it is, he's really particular about which ones he changes. Most are Porsches, Aston Martins, Jaguars, Mustangs, Fiats. Out-of-towners. All out of Christopher's place."

"Christopher?"

"He owns a showroom in town. It opened about four months ago."

"Any ideas how Sheila managed to get changed?"

The three women shook their heads. "But I know it was recently," Madeline offered. "I saw her around town two days ago. First time she's been out and about in thirty years."

"Thanks," Baby said. "Maybe I'll stop over and see what I can see."

The woman in green caught Baby's wrist as she made to leave. "Are you going after the person who changed us?" she asked. "Will you force him to change us back?"

"That's the idea," admitted the Impala. "If bodies keep dropping, the humans will get scared. And who's to say we won't be next?"

"But it's only been the newer models. None of us older ones are dying."

Baby narrowed her chrome eyes. "Listen..."

"Tanya."

"Tanya, you're the youngest here as a ninety-seven, so I'll give you some free advice." She thumbed over her shoulder at Sheila's body. "A '73 kept in perfect condition just dropped dead of a worn-out engine block. What makes you think any of us are really safe?"


Because Baby is a Winchester as well, so she's gotta be useful in this case.

Review please! I'd love to hear what you think!