granderobino | Crackie Crossover Car Fic (slash)

Yep. You read that right. The journal header pretty much says it all. So if this isn't your cup of tea (and really who could blame you?), move along-nothing to see here.

This was written especially for equusentric, who asked for fic that slashed S&H's Torino with SPN's Impala. This is what I came up with.

My first attempt at SPN-verse, so be gentle. I'm sure I'm breaking all kinds of rules, but I got a big kick out of it as I was writing it.

Thanks again, Dawn, for the great prompt ideas. Apparently all my muse needed to get out of her slump was a little crack. Let's hope it doesn't become a habit.

Oooohhh...Lookeee. I made pretty piccies too.

Boys & Their Cars – a love story

Part 1 here:

And, just like that, Castiel was there beside him, in the front seat of the Impala.

Not that Dean minded. It was kinda nice to see him when it wasn't due to some crisis or end-of-the-world scenario.

Things were relatively quiet for the time being for both he and his brother, and Dean had been worried that he wouldn't be able to manufacture a plausible excuse to see his angel. Whoa. When did that happen? Since when had he come to think of Cas as his?

Dean found himself caught by Cas's penetrating gaze. Feeling more exposed that usual, Dean fought to keep himself from blushing.

"Hello, Dean."

That voice. It practically melted Dean's insides to hear it. Every time.

“The last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.”

Those words, meant to be harmless and disarming at the time, came back to Dean's mind now with a vengeance.

Trying to appear cool (and figuring he was failing miserably), Dean managed what he thought was a safe conversation starter.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

God! Could he have sounded any more lame? Thankfully, Cas responded as though it was a perfectly normal question.

“You of all people, should know that I am where I am needed. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to what the particular need is, at the moment?”

“Beats me,” Dean huffed, “Figured you'd know. You usually seem to have the answers.”

And, suddenly, Dean and Cas realized they had arrived at a local junkyard. The kind of place where old cars got to die. Dean threw the Impala into park, and listened to the reassuring rumble of her engine, as he tried to remember making a conscious decision to come here.

Cas continued their conversation. “You don't seem to be in any imminent danger, and last I checked, Sam and Gabriel were on their way home from another successful hunting trip...” Castiel let his voice trail off, and Dean couldn't help but think he looked disappointed.

While his mind was trying work out just what kind of sick, fucked-up angel would actually be disappointed that he was okay, Dean's attention was captured by the Impala suddenly surging forward along the junkyard's rows of cars lined up up for dismantling and crushing.

“What the-”

“Dean,” chided Cas.

“Well, excuse me for being just a little bit upset when a previously inanimate object, suddenly becomes...animate!”

And, just as suddenly, the Impala stopped moving.

“It seems I was brought here by a greater power,” Cas said (stating the rather obvious, thought Dean).

“Yeah, I figured that was probably the case, based on past experience,” Dean snarked.

“Well, yes. But, in this case I was thinking...”

Cas's explanation was cut short as the Impala's engined revved.

The sun suddenly appeared from behind a low bank of clouds and a beam of almost heavenly light fell on the abandoned vehicle that lay in front of them.

“Wow! I bet she used to be somethin'!” Dean said as though in awe.

A Gran Torino. If he had to guess, Dean would say it was a 1974 model. Candy Apple Red with a striking white stripe detailed along the sides and extending across the back of the roof. He knew that model well.

With the Impala still idling, Dean exited, leaving the driver's door open, and walked toward to Torino as though being drawn there.

“These were real popular in the culture of the mid to late seventies. Gained national exposure, due to a hit TV show. They only produced a limited edition like these.”

Suddenly Cas was at Dean's shoulder, “So, this would have been as coveted as, say, your vehicle was in it's own day.”

“Oh yeah. You could definitely say that,” Dean confirmed.

“I suppose it's seen as a pity then...”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, that this car is obviously due to be destroyed,” Cas said matter-of-factly gesturing to it's place near the front of the line of cars to be lined up in front of the giant compactor.

Behind them, Dean and Castiel heard a now distinctly ominous rumble from the Impala.

Both turned, in synch, toward Dean's ride. Cas looked a bit perplexed, then as though a light dawned...then he looked decidedly annoyed.

“Uh, Cas? Wanna tell me what's going on? I feel like I'm out of the loop,” Dean admitted.

“Oh, let me enlighten you,” came the sarcastic reply, “It seems that not only am I to be at you and your brother's beck and call, but now the family car has gotten into the act.”

“Still not following,” Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Your formerly inanimate vehicle has, indeed, become animated. And determined that I should save this fine example of Ford engineering from what it believes to be an untimely destruction!”

Dean stared, slack-jawed at Cas's comments. He turned his attention to the Impala whose idling had resumed a pleasant hum, as though it was satisfied that they were finally getting the picture. He turned back to Castiel who looked, well...adorable in all his frustrated indignation at being summoned to a task that was so clearly beneath him.

And, Dean couldn't help it when the corners of his mouth started twitching in advance of a smile.

Giving a little cough to suppress the laughter threatening to give way to his amusement, Dean began, “So. Wait. The Impala. The Impala summoned you?...And you came?”

“In my defense, I merely knew one of the Winchesters needed me. If I'd have known a car was capable...”

The engine revved a bit, but not in a threatening way. In response, Castiel glared at the vehicle in question.

“I mean, honestly. I can't be expected to answer every cry for help, due to some perceived threat, by every stray Winchester…” Cas stopped, and seemed to decide to pursue a different tactic. Still addressing the Impala he reasoned, “This car isn’t even a Chevrolet,” Cas said, gesturing toward the Torino, “I don’t understand why you’d be concerned with its continued existence. Doesn’t that break some sort of unwritten code among your kind?”

Again with the revving engine. This time, Dean noticed, Cas looked slightly cowed.

For some reason he exchanged an embarrassed glace with Dean. Definitely adorable, thought Dean.

“Hey, Cas. Sorry about the car. I swear I wouldn't have asked you to come just to...”

“You wouldn't?” Cas looked confused and...hurt.

“Well, I mean, not under false pretenses,” Dean clarified, “I mean, I think we both know I'd be asking for your help soon enough.”

“Not soon enough,” Castiel said simply.

“Cas?”

“How much do you understand the concept of eternity, Dean?”

“I’ve had a taste of it,” Dean said frowning at the unpleasant memories.

“Yes. A taste. Eternity is what it feels like when I am away from you. Always. I hate it.”

Stunned by the revelation, Dean took a minute to compose his response.

“So why didn't you say something?”

“It never really seemed the right time. What with the demons and the horsemen…the Apocalypse...not to mention my own family's squabbles,” the last said somewhat apologetically.

Wanting to reassure his angel, Dean smiled and sidled up close. Standing shoulder to shoulder, Dean spoke softly.

“You're not them. You're you. I've always known the difference.”

“Not always,” Castiel countered, unable to meet Dean's gaze.

Dean nudged his shoulder and looked directly into Cas's eyes and said earnestly, “I know now. And I will always know who you are. What you have done and always will do for me. Hey, who else is going to grab me tight and raise me from perdition?”

The two shared a brief comfortable silence.

Then, the engine revved again, making Dean and Cas more aware of their surroundings.

As Dean surveyed the yard, he noticed two men had entered and were walking somewhat aimlessly down the rows looking at nothing in particular.

Dean looked closer. These guys looked familiar…he racked his brain trying to figure out where he knew them from. He was pretty sure they weren’t demonic though, so that was a relief.

He heard a throaty chuckle from the darker haired man, and saw his partner make a move as if to punch him in jest, instead slinging his arm around the man’s shoulder and leaving it there, as they continued to amble along. Not seeming to be in any sort of hurry.

With a quick jerk of his head, he encouraged Cas to join him, and they walked to meet the men.

Click the link for Part 2
http://granderobino.livejournal.com/14238.html