As Dean settled back into the car, Sam filed through a cardboard box and huffed to himself. "What?" Dean asked, irritated by Sam's rejection of the contents of the old cardboard box.
"I swear, man, you've got to update your cassette tape collection." Sam shook his head with a palpable smile.
"Why?" Dean asked, not seeing the problem as Charlotte sat in the back, lounging as the boys spoke. It was as if Sam had expected Dean to change, silly Sam.
"Well, for one: they're cassette tapes. And two: Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock." Sam rolled his eyes, previewing a cassette tape in his hands to Charlotte and Dean, possibly a Motorhead, as Charlotte originally thought, as it seemed recently used, but Charlotte squinted quickly to see the writing and, written in Dean's messy scrawl 'Charlotte's tunes' was written across a paper sticker tab. Only Sam seemed to be the only one not to notice as Dean gave a quick look back to Charlie. It was evident now that Dean was mad at her because he thought something worse had happened. She remembered the look on his face that he had when he first laid eyes on her last night, the look that longed to hold her, because he'd thought he'd never see her again But he was hesitant, so it never crossed Charlotte's mind that may have been the case. But why would he think so harshly of her disappearance? The question ran through Charlotte's mind with an idea that began to formulate to answer her question as Dean spoke to his brother's with the obvious smirk "House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."
Sam shook his head and said, "You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. It's Sam, okay?" the music of AC/DC's Back In Black starts playing as Dean had picked the cassette out of the box and put the mixed tape of Charlotte's back in the box. As Sam spoke, the music was already blaring throughout the 38-year-old badass car.
"Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud." Dean teased his brother as he called over the music. Charlotte, in her corner of the car, lying along the vinyl seats, began air-guitaring as she smirked to Dean's constantly clever remarks. His comment among the house rule would be fair if it were that anyone else was allowed to drive. Charlotte remembered her Harley she had to ditch at Uncle Bobby's run down garage so it wouldn't be so obvious that she was spying for both brothers, but damn, she missed that fine piece of mechanics. The black, smooth curve where the gas was held, the shining silver exhaust pipe, every single perfect curve of her old, black 1987 Harley Davidson Sportster.
She sighed as she listened to the music, still playing her air guitar, they parked in front of the bridge where Troy Squire's, a high school boy, car was found last night without the driver, abandoned without any trace of Troy, as if he'd vanished. Dean shuffled through his plastic Tupperware of fake IDs and badges, handing Charlotte one of her old ones and Sam as well as he got her own. Dean had kept a lot since Charlotte and Sam were gone; all considering it was dead weight to him once they left. Charlotte walked up to the sheriff, showing her district ID badge. "Morning, Sheriff, I'm Detective Strade. These are my partners Detective Don and Detective Eirson." She pointed absently to the brothers behind her, her authoritative walk and stance leading to the conclusion on the sheriff's face that Charlotte now spoke smoothly and easily "We're from District. So what's the case?" The sheriff shook his head and said,
"Troy Squire, eighteen years old, this is his car. Found without sight of the driver and no traces left. None." The sheriff reported to the so-called detectives.
"Well, that's the exact kind of crap police work we'd expect from you people." Dean replied with a smirk on the other side of the car, a smirk playing on his lips until Sam stepped on his foot. Sam gave an apologetic smile to the sheriff who nodded, looking back to the deputy with a look that obviously meant 'Get a load of these hotshots.'
"Thank you for your time, sheriff." Charlotte smiled, a smile that was more of her lips puckered back as if someone had dared her to swallow a lemon and she had to smile through. She tilted her head back as she caught that actual detectives were coming on to the scene out of the corner of her grey eyes. Sam got the memo, but Dean didn't, as he was busy smirking at the sheriff, dumbass. Charlotte sighed as she paced to Dean, pulling him by the ear back to the car. Sam smirked as he watched Charlie pull his older brother to the Impala. The detectives (the real ones) passed them and Dean greeted them, as if he wasn't being enough of a smartass. Sam got in the back this time, leaving Charlie to shotgun. Charlotte groaned as she saw the detectives talking to the sheriff and the sheriff look back at her in the car. "Drive, you moron, drive." She sighed, annoyed that Dean had been so sloppy.
