Prompt Fic: In My Time Of Driving
Genre: crack
Word Count: 822
Characters: Cas, Dean
Summary: Cas makes a New Year's resolution. Unfortunately.
Rating: PG-13 for language
What is disclaimer?
Hope I'm not spammng the com! Mods, feel free to delete. Here is my fic from verucasalt123's prompt:
Castiel's introduced to the concept of making a New Year's resolution. So he resolves to talk Dean into teaching him to drive.
The idea of ‘New Years Resolutions’ made no sense to a being who had been around before the concept of time was invented. Over the decades he had watched humans make resolutions to lose weight, work harder, be nicer, go to church every Sunday...it also made no sense to Castiel that people resolved to do what they had no intention of doing.
He was going to do it correctly. Make a resolution and follow through. “Dean, teach me to drive.”
Dean stared at Castiel. “You’re kidding, right? You can fly the friendly skies. You don’t have to pay for gasoline.”
“You drive. Constantly. There must be something gratifying about the activity.” He paused. “I’m tired of sitting in the back seat.”
Dean snickered. “Sam riding shotgun next to you? Not gonna happen.”
“I can read street signs. If I have an accident, I can heal anyone who is hurt.”
“No.”
Castiel knew he had to sweeten the pot. “Teach me to drive, and you will receive front row seats to NASCAR for you and a busty Asian beauty of your choice to escort.” He sighed. “Is that a deal?”
His friend gave him a crooked grin. “Wow! You are such a dumbass. I would have folded for a Snickers bar.”
*********************************************************
The angel smiled as he folded his hands around the steering wheel of the ’93 Ford Tempo. Dean refused to allow him to touch Baby’s door handle, let alone sit in the driver’s seat. They were in a large empty back parking lot at a Buy-A-Ton wholesale store. “I don’t understand. Why are we not on a highway?”
“Baby steps, Cas. Nobody’s in danger here, except us.”
Castiel examined the dashboard as Dean pointed out the gas pedal, break pedal, emergency brake and stick shift. Castiel nodded, taking it in. “How does this vehicle turn on?”
“I stole it. There’s no ignition switch. Move over.” Dean put the wires together, and the engine sputtered to life. Eyes wide, Castiel slammed both pedals at once. The car lurched and rattled.
“Dumbass, take your feet off the pedals. The emergency brake is on.” Dean looked as though he was debating jumping out of the car. “Take off the emergency brake.”
Castiel did as he was told, and tapped the gas pedal with his foot. The car moved forward slightly. Unnerved, he pushed down hard on the brake pedal.
An hour later, Castiel was chugging the “beater,” as Dean called it, around the parking lot. Castiel thought he was doing very well, even if Dean kept shouting at the angel that he was hitting the wrong pedals, shifting incorrectly, and steering like “a blind dog butt,” whatever that meant.
“I’m ready to take this bad boy for a real ride,” Castiel said, gripping the steering wheel. Instantly they were on 1-95, surrounded by traffic. Cars screeched out of the way of the Tempo.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Dean screamed.
“I’m driving!” Cas said happily. “But why are all of these cars going so fast?”
“We’re on the damn highway, you moron! Parking lot. NOW.”
“It’s no fun there. Why are there lines on the road?”
“They’re lanes! The rule is, you drive in ONE lane, not all of them!”
“Which one?”
“Pick one before I get killed!”
“I’ll bring you back-“
“SLOW LANE! SLOW LANE!”
Castiel did as he was told, annoyed that Dean didn’t have faith in him. Neither did the other drivers, apparently, from all of the honking and swearing that seemed to be aimed at their car. That was fine, people were always honking and swearing when Dean drove, so he knew he was doing everything right.
He heard a wailing of sirens. Dean looked back, then turned to Castiel. “Great! Just great! Highway patrol! They’ll ask for your license and registration, and then we are well and truly screwed.”
“Relax, Dean, I’ve got this.”
They were back in the Buy-A-Ton parking lot, the car stopped. Castiel looked at Dean with a wide smile. To his surprise, Dean was not smiling back.
“You are not ever, ever, ever getting into another driver’s seat for as long as you live.” Dean quickly yanked the wires that started the car apart, and leapt out of the Tempo.
Puzzled, Castiel leaned over the empty passenger seat. “I don’t understand. Even though your teaching methods leave a great deal to be desired, I’m an excellent pupil.”
“NEVER.”
“But the NASCAR-“
“Yeah, you owe me at least that much for the nightmares I’m going to have.” Dean walked around the car, to the driver's side, and gave Castiel his best I-will-rip-you-into-shreds-before-I-kill-you glare.
“Cas, I have ganked vampires, rugarus, wendigos, shifters, demons! But I was more terrified in this goddamned beater than I was facing a Leviathan that skipped lunch! Jesus, man!”
Dean stomped away towards the Impala.
Never mind, Castiel thought. This was a resolution he was going to keep.