Chapter 7

"Okay," Sam said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Okay, so that pretty much establishes it. The Impala's gone, so there's no point sticking around here looking for it."

"But I'm right – " Baby began, sounding indignant.

"The car. The car is gone," he corrected himself hurriedly, giving Dean a tight smile. "Searching chop shops and impound lots isn't going to do us any good, so we might as well get out of this freaky-ass town and head to Sioux Falls. We can swing by Greenwood and check up on that Minah girl, then hook up with Bobby afterward. Maybe he can figure out what happened."

"Hey, normally I'm all for the 'Let's ask Bobby. He can figure out anything!' solution to impossible situations," Dean said, "but don't you think this might be just a little bit out of his league?" He moved both his hands in that synchronized wavy motion that men everywhere used to denote an attractive female form.

"You got any better ideas?" Sam asked. "Because me, I'm fresh out."

Dean pursed his lips and shrugged. "Nope. Not a one."

"Then we're heading to Bobby's by way of Greenwood."

"Do I get a vote in this?" Baby demanded. They both turned to look at her. She had her hands on her hips and a decidedly pouty look on her face. Sam blinked. For someone who'd only just become human, she was certainly mastering the art of female manipulation quickly enough. Dean was already melting in a puddle of moldable goo beside him.

"Of course you get a – " Dean began.

"No, absolutely not," Sam cut him off. "If you are what you claim you are, then you don't really have a clue about operating as a human in this world, so you need to let us make the decisions. If you aren't what you claim to be, then we can't trust you and you definitely don't have a say in any decision we make. Either way, you don't get a vote."

"Sam!" Dean hissed, reaching out and whacking him on the shoulder. "Be nice, damn it."

"I am being nice," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not shooting her."

"I appreciate that," Baby chimed in, causing both of them turn and look at her in surprise. "The not shooting me thing. I'm pretty sure it would hurt, and I'd really rather not die before you figure out how to turn me back into a car. If I was dead, changing me back probably wouldn't work anymore. Or worse, it might make me turn back into a car that didn't run, and that would suck. I don't want to wind up like some old junker on the side of the highway, rotting on my rims with weeds growing up through my floorboards." She shuddered. "I'd rather be sold off for parts, or melted down or salted and burned. I can't stand the idea of sitting around, half-dead, rotting away, forgotten."

Not quite sure what to make of this monologue, Sam glanced at his brother. Dean was staring at Baby with wide, appalled eyes, no doubt picturing the scene she'd so vividly described. Great, one car-obsessed maniac in the family was enough. Two might just drive Sam right over the edge. "Okay," he said. "We'll keep that in mind if the issue should ever come up. Meanwhile, you do what we tell you to do. Got it?"

Baby smiled, the expression she turned on them both sweet and trusting. "Got it," she agreed.

Dean smiled back at her reassuringly then fixed his brother with a glare that could have drawn blood from someone slightly more thin-skinned than Sam was. Sam just rolled his eyes again, and pulled out his cellphone. "What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"Calling Bobby. Maybe he can come pick us up."

"Dude, Bobby is not going to drive all the way from South Dakota just to come pick us up. That's ridiculous."

"Maybe, but I can at least give him a heads up on the situation. He can get started on the research while he waits for us to get there." Dean shrugged, and Sam listened as Bobby's voicemail picked up. "This is Bobby Singer. Gone hunting. If it's important leave a message. If it's not, get the hell off my line and go away." The command was followed by a beep, and Sam dutifully left a message, one that should have the older hunter's eyes bugging out in due course. "Hey Bobby, it's Sam. Uh, listen, the Impala has turned into a girl. A real one. We think. So, any thoughts? We'll be heading your way soon. Bye." Sam hung up. He only wished he could see Bobby's face when he heard that message.

Dean was laughing, clearly amused by Sam's cryptic message, Baby watching him with a puzzled expression. "Okay, so now we just have to get there and hope that Bobby's head doesn't explode from sheer curiosity in the mean time. So, you wait here with our little darling and I'll go jack us a car."

"What? Dean, no. We are not stealing a car."

"Sammy, come on. If there was ever a time to steal a car, this is it."

"No. It's not."

"Well how else are we going to get to Sioux Falls?"

"We could always take the bus," Sam suggested tentatively.

"Have you lost your mind, college boy? The bus! I wouldn't be caught dead on a bus," Dean spat out. "I wouldn't be caught undead and zombified on a bus! I'd walk to South Dakota first."

"There's nothing wrong with taking the bus, Dean. Lots of people take the bus," Sam sighed.

"Yeah, lots of super uncool people who have no choice. We have a choice. I'm stealing a car."

"I'm telling you that's not a good idea."

"Why not?" Dean demanded. "It's not like we haven't done it before when we were in a bind. You stole one to save me from that scarecrow."

"That was different."

"Different how?"

"Different in the sense that I didn't have a young girl with me who has no first name, no last name, no I.D., no identity to speak of and possibly shares the same finger prints as another living human being. How, exactly, would we explain all of that if we had the bad luck to get pulled over? We can't even prove that she's of age."

"So she'd lie. This is not exactly new territory for us."

"Yeah, well, it is for her."

"She's a quick learner."

"And you're basing this on what, precisely?"

"How about the fact that she's been alive for less than a day and she's already talking and walking? Clearly, she's a quick study. I'm sure lying will be no problem."

Sam turned to the girl. "Baby, how old are you?"

"Forty-one. Or, do you mean as a human, because then I think I'm zero."

"See?" Sam snapped, fixing Dean with an 'I told you so' look.

His brother just glared at him. "Sweetheart, if anyone asks, you're twenty. Okay?"

"But I'm not twenty," Baby said, clearly puzzled by the contradiction. "I'm either forty-one or zero."

Dean ran his hands over his face, then shook a finger in Sam's direction. "Don't say it. Just don't say it."

His brother was still looking pale and drawn, so Sam tried not to sound too smug as he said, "I wasn't going to, but you see why stealing a car is a bad idea right now?"

"Yeah, I get it. I think you're freakin' paranoid, but I get it. So now what, genius?"

"Now we buy a car since the bus is obviously unacceptable, and I'm assuming that you feel the same way about the train."

"Hey," Dean corrected, "trains can be cool, they're just kind of hard to get off of stealthily if something goes wrong."

"True enough," Sam agreed. "So, that leaves us with buying a car, and that means we need more money."

Dean grinned maniacally. "So, who's hustling and who's Baby-sitting?"