MN Day 30: The One Where The Impala Becomes Human, NC17, Dean/HumanImpala
From Sera Gamble: it’s infused with all kinds of special energy, that car. People worry a lot about what would happen if we got serious girlfriends for Sam and Dean, and I’m just like ‘Dean has a serious girlfriend.’
And so:
Title: The One Where the Impala Becomes Human (because I have now spent more time thinking about a title than writing the darn thing)
Rating: NC-17 I guess.
Warnings: Sex, language.
Pairing: Dean/Human Female Impala
Summary: The Impala becomes human. How confusing for her. Set post 3.07.
MiniNano Day 30: Word Count: 5543
TOTAL Mini Nano Count: 32099
With thanks to spiritofkt for the beta.
**
She shielded her eyes from the light and stretched herself out. A couple nearby frowned at her, as if she was breaking a law by being there. She knew she used to be a car, that two minutes ago she sat there in an entirely different form. She wasn't sure how she knew, 'cause she was pretty sure that as a car she couldn't think, but she did. Strewn around her feet on the asphalt were papers, weapons, clothes. All the items she usually held within were scattered haphazardly at the edge of the road.
Now she had curves of a different nature. Her mind raced with the knowledge that she was now a human female and everything that went with it. She examined her new body, ran her hand over her breasts, rested her hand in the dip of hips and splayed her fingers out. A few scars marked her body, tiny white scratches in the smooth paintwork of her olive skin. She tugged a shock of hair and peered at it: jet black, and long, and somehow she wasn't surprised.
A young man wolf-whistled her and she preened a little. She always was sexy, she knew that. She shivered a little, but didn't dress. The curves were too enticing, the body too thrilling to do anything but carry on staring down at herself.
Her mind filled with images, and they felt like memories of places that she had been, roads she had traveled. Her life as a car was there in her head, informing her of what she was missing. Her name was Impala. She rolled the sound of it around, said it out loud, elongated the vowels and rolled the l's. She liked it. Impala remembered passengers she had had, and knew that she had been at one with the Winchesters for a long time. They were the only real passengers she could remember. Once there was a young couple, John and Mary but they were just ghosts floating around the back of her head. John and two children next, and she was too young back then to retain any clear focus on those impressions. The pictures became sharper the older she grew and her passengers with her.
Dean and John and an aching space in the back where Sam should have been, she recalled feeling that pain. Finally Dean and Sam, and that felt right, that was how it was supposed to be. She could remember conversations, the hum of their lives playing in her head like a quiet radio. She was part of it, watched it all and kept them safe. Secure. They felt secure with her and she with them.
Dean. She pictured him, and sensed how it felt to have his hands touching her, to know the strength of their grip. She knew when he needed quiet, to cruise along lost in the emptiness of the road. She knew when he needed his music to be as loud as possible, drowning out whatever his worries were.
Their relationship was special, she was certain of it.
Impala longed to be on the move; standing still on the sidewalk made her body crawl with impatience. Every muscle begged to be allowed to be free. She didn't stay because she felt she should; she was certain she was someone who didn't entirely play by the rules. She stayed because the Winchesters would return for her, like they always did. She longed to see them through these new eyes.
**
Sam and Dean loped around the corner, holding themselves stiffly, as they did whenever the fight had been especially exhausting. Impala regretted that they wouldn't be able to sink into her seats; she felt sure she usually gave them rest at times like this. This time, she needed the help.
Impala accelerated toward them, grinning wildly and throwing her arms out. "Dean! Sam!" It felt like she was seeing them for the first time, her eyes ached so much from this new angle, but at the same time they were really familiar. Dean's face was creased up from tiredness and worry. Sam scrunched his face up, astonishment crossing it as he saw her. Then Sam cast his eyes past her toward their finish line.
"Do we know you?" Sam said, flicking his eyes over her then studiously keeping his gaze off her body.
"Hello,” Dean said with a flirty smile, which fell as soon as his eyes flicked away from her toward where she had been parked. “And where the hell is my car?"
"How do you know our name?" Sam said. "And, where are your clothes?" He kept his eyes averted, a blush creeping over his cheeks. He raced past Dean and pulled a couple of items out of the pile on the ground.
"Where's my car?" Dean started to breathe unsteadily. It was sweet, his concern. “Is Bela here again?" His eyes strayed from the empty spot back to her body, roving over them.
These boys: loveable, but they could sometimes be a little slow. "It's me. Impala. I'm here."
They stared at her, then at each other. The young guy who catcalled before shouted out again and Sam held out some clothes. "Please, put these on. Then we can figure out what's going on."
"And cover this fine bodywork? It deserves to be seen don't you think?" Sam didn't quite get it sometimes, the glory of her chassis. Impala placed her hands on her breasts, ran them down her body. She saw Dean follow the path of her hands, then he took a step toward her.
"Did you do something to my car?" His voice was low, threatening. Sexy too, with its low growl.
"I am your car. It's me. I ...something happened Dean. Something very, very weird." Impala took the t-shirt Sam was thrusting into her face and pulled it on. He held out boxers too. Sam. Too shy by far. "I...I was just there. Like this. And I know I used to be a car, though I don't know how I know. I remember you two." Dean took a step back, stumbling but regaining his footing. Sam's face widened into shock. Neither of them looked like they believed her. For heaven's... "This morning, this morning you were going on a hunt." Impala frowned, trying to recall the whispered words that wafted somewhere inside her head. "You were after a ghost in some old building, but had to find a locket containing her hair. I take it you did."
"Have you been listening to us?" Dean reached his hand to his back, resting it on his gun, Impala knew.
"Oh for... okay." She racked her brains to the past, for information only she could know. She stretched as far back as the memories became clear. "When Sam was eleven, maybe, he scratched me. Here." She pointed toward her ass, supposing that was her bumper. "And he got a pen and wanted to color me in, only John caught him and gave him a hiding." They both went ghostly white. She felt their eyes examining her body closely and stood a little straighter, pushing her chest out. "Dean had his first blow-job in the backseat when he was sixteen, with some girl whose heels poked my upholstery and-"
"You told me you were fourteen!" Sam exploded.
"That's hardly the issue now. Fuck. Is it..." Dean shook his head. "I don't believe it."
"Right. You've dealt with evil possessed cutlery, and this is what’s unbelievable." They both swallowed hard. "Somewhere near Anaheim, if I remember," Impala added. She rolled her shoulders. The clothes felt constricting, like she was imprisoned inside a garage. She would wear them for Sam's sake.
"If you were the human Impala, you'd be, well, forty," Sam said. Trust him to be practical. "You’re around the same age as me. Or maybe Dean. Not forty anyway."
"I had all that work done!" Impala said. "Complete body overhaul. After the accident." A truck. Man. She hated trucks. A rumble came from inside her stomach. "I think my gas tank's empty," she announced. "Can we talk over food?”
Dean gave a small shrug, lifting in his shoulders in that way that meant he was buying it, at least for now. Sam nodded and both turned their attention toward gathering together their stuff, hiding the weapons in the bags and balling up the clothes.
**
Impala felt Dean watching her all the way to the motel to stash their gear, then all the way to the diner to take a seat. He didn't grumble when they had to walk but she knew he felt the loss of her other form.
It didn't seem to stop him checking this form out at every opportunity.
"I can't believe it," Dean said finally, when they were seated in the diner, and sitting, that felt strange. Like she was occupying space she shouldn't be. Deep inside, she felt that part of her was wrong, like she was broken and needed fixing. Impala tried to shake it off. "I mean, I believe it but I don't believe it."
"Transfiguration like this...that's not easy," Sam said. "I'll call Bobby, see what he thinks. I've just no idea..." Sam fell silent. Oh boy. That wasn't a good sign.
"You'll figure it out. Usually do," Impala said. She glanced around the room. Being inside felt new too. Outside the window was a row of cars, patiently awaiting their owners, locked out of the conversations going on inside. She grinned at both of them, and thumped her hands onto the table. "It's good to see you. This way." She rubbed her eyes. "It feels weird."
"I bet." Dean's face broke into the first grin she'd seen. It was as if a cloud dispersed over him. He'd decided to enjoy it. That was fine with her.
"How do you remember stuff? When you're a car, are you, aware?" Sam played with the edge of the menu absently. He was questioning but his mind was somewhere else, flipping through all the books she had ever seen him read for help.
"I'm pretty sure that as a car, I'm not sentient. You don't have to worry." She smiled, flipped her hair back and saw them both follow it with their eyes. It felt good, sitting there with the two of them. It felt good having their attention. "But as a human, I have all those memories. It's odd." She pursed her lips. "I know that I’m supposed to be a car. Being a human," she cupped her breasts and watched color flush through Sam and Dean's grin broaden even wider, “that’s an adventure. But it isn't right."
Sam nodded. "We'll try and fix it. We will." He took his cell out but the waitress sashayed over, and he paused, clasping his hand around it.
"What can I get you?" She was wearing a short pink dress that just covered her ass. Impala saw both the Winchesters flick their eyes over her. Tiny movements, but they were there. She felt...jealousy. It could only be jealousy.
"A dress like that," Impala said. "See how that accentuates her curves?" She reached out a hand then stilled it. Humans didn't do that. "I want that."
"Well you can't have it!" The waitress, Donna, according to her name tag, laughed and stepped out the way.
"I'm sorry. She...lost all her clothes." Sam worked his puppy dog eyes and Donna grinned.
"You poor thing." She patted Impala's arm. "I have some old pants and a top I use for the gym. You want them?"
"Will they show off my curves?"
"We'll take them," Sam interrupted, frowning at her. "And we'll pay you for them."
Donna waved her hand. "They’re old. Just tip well. Make the other customers follow your lead. So what can I get you?"
They ordered. Impala had no idea what food would fill up her tank so she copied Dean - a steak.
Sam pressed a speed dial. "Bobby might have an idea."
Bobby. Impala remembered Bobby. He took care of her. He knew a lot about cars. "Say hello from me," she said. "Ask if that red beetle got fixed!"
Dean snorted. Impala glared at him, then softened. She couldn't be mad at Dean for long. He'd rebuilt her, after all.
"Dean. How are you doing?" She gave him a flirty smile.
Dean laughed. "Discovering my car's a sexy chick. It's pretty cool."
"As if there was any doubt!" She answered Dean’s puzzled face with a wink. “Any doubt that I would make a sexy woman!" Dean joined in her laughter, and his was deep and throaty. Their eyes locked then Dean coughed, pulling the menu toward him and resting his hands on it. Like he needed something to do with them.
Sam was quietly talking to Bobby, "No. This is not a joke."
"Hi Bobby! It's me! How is the red beetle?" Impala shouted. Bobby would need more convincing.
"No, I didn't pay her to say that. I am not kidding." Sam spoke sternly. Impala liked that tone of voice. Sam could be sexy when he was strict. Sam did some uh-huh-ing into the phone then said, "Right. I'll call back later. Thanks Bobby." He hung up. "Bobby says it's strong magic to be able to do this. Must have been caused by something or someone we ran into recently. So we have to list where we've been in last day or so. See if we can come up with anything. He's gonna research too." Sam sat back in his seat, glancing toward Dean then back at Impala. "He did say it's not likely that this is permanent. ‘Cause that would take magic so strong...it's likely to be temporary."
A feeling flooded through Impala. She was...relieved. She didn't want to stay this form. The sick, wrong feeling inside would never go away if she did. Of course, that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it while it lasted.
**
They had finished eating, but the boys insisted on chatting, asking her what she remembered. She repeated stories of old hunts and they laughed, kept giving each other small looks of I don't fucking believe this.
"You remember crossing the border, going to TJ that time?” Dean said. “That woman-"
"Yeah! She tugged on the handle and when you didn't open it, tried to smash my window!" Impala rubbed her left arm, although she had no real idea if that was where she'd been hurt or not. She squirmed in her seat. Reminiscing was fun, but the seat was confining. Sitting still was difficult. She felt fidgety, like she wanted to be soaring down an open road. "There was the time we went to get Sam. Man. We were so nervous..."
Their laughter died away. "Yeah," Dean said quietly.
Sam shrugged. "Ancient history. Lots of road covered since then."
"Yeah." Impala drummed her fingers on the table. She clasped the salt shaker in her hand, then put it down. Then picked it up again.
"Everything okay?" Dean's voice was soft, concerned. She liked it when he used that tone with her.
"I feel like I need to go. Be on the move."
"I'll go research," Sam said, reaching for his bag. "You two go for a run or something."
Impala met Dean's eyes. "Okay."
She changed into Donna’s gym gear and was happy to see that it did accentuate her curves. Enough so she felt Dean's eyes on her ass as they walked down the street, aiming for the patch of grass at the end.
"Checking out your car Dean? But when didn't you?" She winked, and took off down the road, running as fast as she could. She heard Dean's feet pad after her, and pushed further, taking the body for a test drive, getting used to how these feet worked, the difference between those and her wheels. She used her arms to pump harder; Dean caught up to her and she forced her muscles to keep up with him.
They ran into the park and Impala put the brakes on. Usually she parked at the edge of these things, peering in, longing to know what was inside. There was a lake with green fronds framing it. Beautiful flowers were arranged into a triangle, carefully tended to and looked after. Like she was. Most of the time. They were things she saw up close only when she was squashing them underneath. She knelt down and cupped a pink flower in her hand.
Dean padded back toward her, resting his hands on his knees. "Okay?"
"Yeah. It's beautiful. I usually... I destroy them. I don't mean to, but..." She let go of it. "But I do."
Dean touched her shoulder gently. "Dude. Don't sweat it. You're usually a car." He stared seriously into her eyes and she gazed back, then they both laughed at the same time, loud giggles becoming hysterical.
"Your life. Our life," Impala said, pointing at herself.
"Fucking weird," Dean agreed. He stretched his shoulders, smiled. "Feel better for the run?"
Impala frowned. "Not really. I feel like it's not quite enough." The noise of a car passing, a loud engine accelerating its way around the road's curves, took both their attention. Impala saw a young woman inside, waving impatiently at people to get out of her way. She pointed toward it. "I want to do that. I wanna drive."
**
Sam loped toward them, shaking his head even as he approached. "We're doing what?"
"Taking a car for a test drive, so Impala can get behind the wheel of something fast," Dean said, as if it was obvious. "Let's go look."
"I might know what’s done this," Sam said, stopping Dean in his tracks. "I put in a call, just waiting for a call back."
Dean and Impala exchanged glances. She felt sick with worry. She hoped it worked. "Who?" Dean said, danger brimming in his voice, oil mixed in with the water.
"That magic shop we stopped at yesterday. Bobby said she has lots of power. He's heard of her anyway." Sam shrugged. "I can't think why she'd do it, but I put in a call. We'll see."
Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder. "Good work Sammy. Now, let's go find a car."
They wandered inside, Sam and Impala letting Dean do the talking. Impala wanted a moment with Sam. There’d been lots of anxiety that Dean would leave, that it would be just Sam and her. She had to tell Sam that they’d be okay. The need to speak to him thrummed through her. She hung back and made a hissing noise. Sam walked back to stand next to her. "You okay?" He spoke softly. "I will fix it, I promise."
"That's not it. Only it." Impala gave a quick glance over to where Dean was quizzing some guy about the cars. It didn't matter which they got: none of them were a Chevy Impala like her. She'd handle any of them well. "It's Dean."
"What about Dean?"
"All that, teaching you how to fix me stuff." A smile broke over Sam's face, then started to fade. "It's cause he's dying, I know, and-"
"I'll fix that too," Sam said quickly, determinedly.
"I know." Impala stepped closer, and rested a hand on Sam's arm. "I believe you will. I believe you need to." She made sure Dean wasn't approaching "Dean gives too much, that way." Sam gave a small nod. "I wanted to tell you that whatever happens, we'll be together, right? Even if I am a car. Dean, the car," she struggled to put how she thought Dean felt about her into words, "the three of us will still kinda be together. You know? You and I, we'll look out for each other."
Sam grinned, leaning down and pulling her into a hug. Touching him, resting into his strength, letting him cup her body, felt strange, like the roles were reversed. But correct too, like she was used to it.
"Hey, we got a car. What's going on here?" Dean stood a little way away, waved toward a nearby Porsche. "It's a fucking Porsche, but the guy said we can all take it out for an hour."
"Nothing. Just promising to fix her," Sam lied. He stepped toward the car. "Let's go."
**
This is where Impala belonged, on the road, speeding toward some unknown destination. She floored the gas, taking the bend too fast and shrieking as the adrenaline coursed through her. Dean laughed, and she could feel his admiring eyes watching her every move. Sam coughed nervously from the back.
There was only one thing missing.
Impala reached for the radio, flicked it on, searching for anything that sounded like rock. Dean's fingers closed over hers.
"I'll do it. Sam's having heart failure that you've taken your hand off the wheel."
Impala giggled. "I can control this car easy. Find something decent Dean, and turn it up loud!"
The music pulsed through the car and through her body, flowing through her veins like motor oil. She wound the window down and felt the wind whipping through her hair, crashing it into her face. She leaned across and patted Dean’s knee, needing to share the moment with him even more. He squeezed her hand lightly and let go. She put her hand back on the wheel and grinned at Sam in the mirror.
This was how it was supposed to be.
The time ticked by too fast, and soon she was parking the car back into place. The excitement ebbed away as quickly as it came, and the gnawing feeling that all wasn’t well came back. Dammit.
"Have fun?" Dean asked, sounding amused.
She gave him a small grin, wanting to show she appreciated it. “Yeah! Not long enough!”
Sam's cell rang as they scrambled out of the car. "Hello? Yes. Yes ...you did this? Why?" Dean reached for the cell, clicking his fingers angrily but Sam shied away, moving around the rear of the car. "Is there... I see. Sunrise. Okay. Thanks." He hung up.
"You hung up? I wanted to talk to her." A muscle jumped angrily in Dean's cheek. "Ask her what she was playing at."
"It's temporary. At sunrise she goes back to normal." Relief again, flooding through her. It would soon be over. The gnawing feeling would go away. "She did it ‘cause you picked up those groceries for her Dean.”
“Because I what? Picked up some damn apples?”
Sam nodded. “She said no one ever does her a favor so she thought she’d do one for you. She said she saw how much you loved your car and thought you'd appreciate it."
"Thought I'd-" A faint blush spread over Dean's cheeks. There was a brief silence between the three of them. Sam slid his eyes from Dean to Impala to back again.
Impala laughed to break the tension. "Sunrise then. Time for a drink?"
**
The drink dulled her circuits, impairing her motor function. She laughed a lot too, giggling at everything Dean said, one upping every story he had with another memory that rumbled out of her.
"Then there was the time we had to get out of...I don't remember where. Some small bar in Utah. Dean hit on someone he shouldn't. Man, I don't think he ever drove me so fast!" Impala laughed and Dean and Sam joined in with bewildered throaty chuckles. She waved her hand, knocking the beer over. “Sorry.” She leant forward, felt herself fall too far, somehow banging her shoulder into Dean’s. She cast her eyes up. “Sorry again,” she said, but she didn’t move. It was good feeling Dean’s shoulder against hers. He was warm. Sitting around the table not touching, that was too hard. She angled her body so that she was resting into him more, not taking her eyes off his. Dean’s body shuddered beneath hers. She leaned up, wanting more connection. Dean’s head closed the gap and soon she was taking his lips in hers.
Impala opened her mouth wide to his, allowing his tongue to move inside, to meet her own. He was soft but firm, like his hands on the wheel. He was in control but there was an edge to it - that promise of a race, of more to come. It couldn’t come fast enough. She moaned into his mouth and he pulled away, unsteadily running a hand through his hair. They both glanced over and saw Sam uneasily lifting his body out of his seat. “I’ll be, over there,” Sam said.
Impala scrunched her hands into Dean’s shirt, working a button undone. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m…you’re my car,” Dean said helplessly, shifting his body weight away so that her hand slid off.
“And your problem is?” Impala tugged at his shirt again, pulling him closer and pressing her lips to his. Dean hesitated, then leaned in toward her, molding his body against hers.
**
It took them a long time to get back to the motel. Dean said it was because they had to frickin’ walk, and he said it with a smile like it was her fault and she should be punished. Which was fine by her if he said it with eyes like that. Impala said it was because they stopped every two feet to kiss, and she figured she was right.
They reached the motel in the end, tumbling in the door and bashing into the wall. Dean pressed her against it, the length of his body squeezing her tight against the wall. She kissed him hard, wanted to be part of him, for him to be inside her. That was normal, that was right. The kiss wasn’t deep enough; Dean was holding back, somehow. His hands skittered across her body, not settling on any one place. She broke off. “I won’t break,” she growled, and pushed back, kicking at his legs as she did.
They crashed to the floor in a tangle. She saw Dean’s eyes flash and a wall fell away. He tore at her top and she fought the clothes that kept him from her, ripping them off, kissing any spare piece of flesh she came across. Nipping a little, eliciting soft moans from Dean as she did. She breathed in his scent, good to have it close, filling her up; cologne and sweat mingling together. She rubbed against him roughly. Dean kissed her bare shoulder, ran a hand maddeningly down into her pants and paused before pulling them down. He twisted a finger into her and she felt her juices flow. He started a rhythm, moved it up a notch, then slid another finger in. A moan rumbled out of her.
“Man, I’m well lubricated,” she panted. Dean snorted. She dug her nails into his back. “I need more,” she croaked.
Dean paused, lifted himself off her just as her hand slid into his boxers and palmed his cock. She’d seen it before, in the back seat, but this felt different. Holding it made her thrum with energy. With need for them to get going. She took him in her hand, stroking him. “Why are you stopping?” She stroked him again, then pushed his boxers completely away.
“I don’t know, if… I need.”
“A condom?” She guessed and he winked. “No idea. May as well. Pregnant car might not be worth dealing with.”
Dean chuckled, and she unwillingly slid her hand away and let him reach to rifle for his wallet. Impala squirmed, impatient to continue but soon he was back, readying himself to enter her, then he was sliding into place. Being connected felt right, made her engines hum with desire and want. Dean breathed out loud, then moved. This was a completely different way of having him inside her and she couldn’t get enough of it. She grabbed at his ass, pushing for him to go harder, and he answered her. She bit his shoulder and he moaned. She ran a finger down the crack of his ass and he let out a loud breath. He answered her every move with one of his own.
They went hard and fast, full speed ahead.
**
“I half thought you’d be a virgin,” Dean said into the quiet silence. “Seeing as the body’s new.”
“Only it’s not is it?” Impala laughed. “Been ridden in lots of times.” Dean rolled his eyes and she poked him. “Don’t tell me you weren’t about to make that joke.”
“You know me too well,” Dean said, reaching his hand over to trace a lazy circle around her belly button. “Which is…different.”
“I know.” Which was why Impala felt she had to talk to him. There was a message she felt compelled to try and get to him. She reached for his hand and stopped its distracting circles. “Dean?”
“Yeah?” He propped himself up on his elbow. “What is it?” He glanced toward the window. “Is it that you’re gonna change?”
“It’s Sam.”
“Oh.” He lifted himself up fully, giving her a quizzical look.
“It’s about the deal.”
“Oh.” Dean put a hand flat on her stomach. “I’ve been teaching Sam how to look after you, you know that? Once I’ve gone.”
“It’s not that.” She frowned and sat up. “I know that. I know Sam’s been fixing me. He tightened some things too tight, inside somewhere.” She rested her hand on Dean’s knee. “I want you to let Sam look out for you.”
Dean sighed. “Not you too.”
“Neither of us want you to go anywhere. Just…promise me you won’t get so mad with him.”
Dean tightened his face. She glared back at him and raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” Dean said finally, leaning forward to kiss her, tumbling them both back onto the bed.
This time it was leisurely and slow. His hands were gentle as they traced down her body, outlining every bend as they went. Her curves felt like they fit exactly against his body, and when he cupped her breast in his hand, it fit exactly. The groove of her hip received his other hand gratefully. She dug her hand into his hair, pulling him close for a kiss.
Dean broke off, kissing down her body, tracing every curve with his tongue. He reached her clit and she buried her hands in his hair as he tasted her, licking slowly, maddeningly, not picking up the pace enough. She bucked up against him and he laughed, leaning up to kiss her. She tasted herself on his tongue.
They clicked into place again, riding it out, drawing it out as long as possible. She wished there could be no brake, that there could just be a slow speed down the asphalt to the finish line.
**
”Time to call Sam,” Impala said, gazing out of the window at the dark sky. “Not long to sunrise. I wonder where he is?”
“In another room I hope, as there’s no car to sleep in.” Impala nodded, and thought of all the times in the future she’d give them a secure place, without even knowing it.
Sam arrived quickly and she spent her last couple of hours chatting to them both, hearing them laugh and trade stories, watching their faces crease with giggles or become solemn if the subject required it. It was good looking at them with these eyes, it felt fresh and real in a way she knew it never would be again.
Impala saw the sun starting to break over the horizon. Not long. She stood up. “We should go outside. Don’t want a car in your motel room.”
They trooped after her, pausing at the sidewalk. She reached toward Sam and pulled him into a hug. He held her tight, and gave her a squeeze. She pulled away and gripped his hair in her hands. “You keep on doing what you’re doing Sam. And you know, you and me, if we have to, we’ll take care of each other.” Sam gave a small nod, reaching down to give her a soft kiss.
Impala turned away, toward Dean who immediately pulled her into a tight hug. She pressed her body against his, feeling him taut and muscular in a way she wouldn’t be able to again. She tilted her head back and freed her hand to poke him in the chest. “You listen to your brother sometimes, you hear?” Dean smiled. “And take me for a long ride when I’m a car again. Work out the kinks.” Dean kissed his assent, long and lingering.
“I want my car back, but I will miss-“ Dean began, but she cut off the rest of his sentence with a kiss. She knew what he was trying to say.
Impala pulled away when she felt a bright light coursing through her. “I’ll miss seeing you this way,” she told them. “But this is for the best.” They both nodded. She backed away, and felt light and heat bursting through every atom of her body. She saw the Winchesters fading away, and knew it was her fading, her change happening.
It was scary but she let it consume her, consoling herself with the thought that soon she’d be back with the two of them, on the road.
**
I would love to know what you thought.
I ticked the Explicit Adult Content box! Am I supposed to do that? Do I have to go back and label all my old fic?
This was the last Outside POV in the 30 I wrote for MiniNano. Here is a link to a table of everything I wrote
*Falls down exhausted*
And so:
Title: The One Where the Impala Becomes Human (because I have now spent more time thinking about a title than writing the darn thing)
Rating: NC-17 I guess.
Warnings: Sex, language.
Pairing: Dean/Human Female Impala
Summary: The Impala becomes human. How confusing for her. Set post 3.07.
MiniNano Day 30: Word Count: 5543
TOTAL Mini Nano Count: 32099
With thanks to spiritofkt for the beta.
**
She shielded her eyes from the light and stretched herself out. A couple nearby frowned at her, as if she was breaking a law by being there. She knew she used to be a car, that two minutes ago she sat there in an entirely different form. She wasn't sure how she knew, 'cause she was pretty sure that as a car she couldn't think, but she did. Strewn around her feet on the asphalt were papers, weapons, clothes. All the items she usually held within were scattered haphazardly at the edge of the road.
Now she had curves of a different nature. Her mind raced with the knowledge that she was now a human female and everything that went with it. She examined her new body, ran her hand over her breasts, rested her hand in the dip of hips and splayed her fingers out. A few scars marked her body, tiny white scratches in the smooth paintwork of her olive skin. She tugged a shock of hair and peered at it: jet black, and long, and somehow she wasn't surprised.
A young man wolf-whistled her and she preened a little. She always was sexy, she knew that. She shivered a little, but didn't dress. The curves were too enticing, the body too thrilling to do anything but carry on staring down at herself.
Her mind filled with images, and they felt like memories of places that she had been, roads she had traveled. Her life as a car was there in her head, informing her of what she was missing. Her name was Impala. She rolled the sound of it around, said it out loud, elongated the vowels and rolled the l's. She liked it. Impala remembered passengers she had had, and knew that she had been at one with the Winchesters for a long time. They were the only real passengers she could remember. Once there was a young couple, John and Mary but they were just ghosts floating around the back of her head. John and two children next, and she was too young back then to retain any clear focus on those impressions. The pictures became sharper the older she grew and her passengers with her.
Dean and John and an aching space in the back where Sam should have been, she recalled feeling that pain. Finally Dean and Sam, and that felt right, that was how it was supposed to be. She could remember conversations, the hum of their lives playing in her head like a quiet radio. She was part of it, watched it all and kept them safe. Secure. They felt secure with her and she with them.
Dean. She pictured him, and sensed how it felt to have his hands touching her, to know the strength of their grip. She knew when he needed quiet, to cruise along lost in the emptiness of the road. She knew when he needed his music to be as loud as possible, drowning out whatever his worries were.
Their relationship was special, she was certain of it.
Impala longed to be on the move; standing still on the sidewalk made her body crawl with impatience. Every muscle begged to be allowed to be free. She didn't stay because she felt she should; she was certain she was someone who didn't entirely play by the rules. She stayed because the Winchesters would return for her, like they always did. She longed to see them through these new eyes.
**
Sam and Dean loped around the corner, holding themselves stiffly, as they did whenever the fight had been especially exhausting. Impala regretted that they wouldn't be able to sink into her seats; she felt sure she usually gave them rest at times like this. This time, she needed the help.
Impala accelerated toward them, grinning wildly and throwing her arms out. "Dean! Sam!" It felt like she was seeing them for the first time, her eyes ached so much from this new angle, but at the same time they were really familiar. Dean's face was creased up from tiredness and worry. Sam scrunched his face up, astonishment crossing it as he saw her. Then Sam cast his eyes past her toward their finish line.
"Do we know you?" Sam said, flicking his eyes over her then studiously keeping his gaze off her body.
"Hello,” Dean said with a flirty smile, which fell as soon as his eyes flicked away from her toward where she had been parked. “And where the hell is my car?"
"How do you know our name?" Sam said. "And, where are your clothes?" He kept his eyes averted, a blush creeping over his cheeks. He raced past Dean and pulled a couple of items out of the pile on the ground.
"Where's my car?" Dean started to breathe unsteadily. It was sweet, his concern. “Is Bela here again?" His eyes strayed from the empty spot back to her body, roving over them.
These boys: loveable, but they could sometimes be a little slow. "It's me. Impala. I'm here."
They stared at her, then at each other. The young guy who catcalled before shouted out again and Sam held out some clothes. "Please, put these on. Then we can figure out what's going on."
"And cover this fine bodywork? It deserves to be seen don't you think?" Sam didn't quite get it sometimes, the glory of her chassis. Impala placed her hands on her breasts, ran them down her body. She saw Dean follow the path of her hands, then he took a step toward her.
"Did you do something to my car?" His voice was low, threatening. Sexy too, with its low growl.
"I am your car. It's me. I ...something happened Dean. Something very, very weird." Impala took the t-shirt Sam was thrusting into her face and pulled it on. He held out boxers too. Sam. Too shy by far. "I...I was just there. Like this. And I know I used to be a car, though I don't know how I know. I remember you two." Dean took a step back, stumbling but regaining his footing. Sam's face widened into shock. Neither of them looked like they believed her. For heaven's... "This morning, this morning you were going on a hunt." Impala frowned, trying to recall the whispered words that wafted somewhere inside her head. "You were after a ghost in some old building, but had to find a locket containing her hair. I take it you did."
"Have you been listening to us?" Dean reached his hand to his back, resting it on his gun, Impala knew.
"Oh for... okay." She racked her brains to the past, for information only she could know. She stretched as far back as the memories became clear. "When Sam was eleven, maybe, he scratched me. Here." She pointed toward her ass, supposing that was her bumper. "And he got a pen and wanted to color me in, only John caught him and gave him a hiding." They both went ghostly white. She felt their eyes examining her body closely and stood a little straighter, pushing her chest out. "Dean had his first blow-job in the backseat when he was sixteen, with some girl whose heels poked my upholstery and-"
"You told me you were fourteen!" Sam exploded.
"That's hardly the issue now. Fuck. Is it..." Dean shook his head. "I don't believe it."
"Right. You've dealt with evil possessed cutlery, and this is what’s unbelievable." They both swallowed hard. "Somewhere near Anaheim, if I remember," Impala added. She rolled her shoulders. The clothes felt constricting, like she was imprisoned inside a garage. She would wear them for Sam's sake.
"If you were the human Impala, you'd be, well, forty," Sam said. Trust him to be practical. "You’re around the same age as me. Or maybe Dean. Not forty anyway."
"I had all that work done!" Impala said. "Complete body overhaul. After the accident." A truck. Man. She hated trucks. A rumble came from inside her stomach. "I think my gas tank's empty," she announced. "Can we talk over food?”
Dean gave a small shrug, lifting in his shoulders in that way that meant he was buying it, at least for now. Sam nodded and both turned their attention toward gathering together their stuff, hiding the weapons in the bags and balling up the clothes.
**
Impala felt Dean watching her all the way to the motel to stash their gear, then all the way to the diner to take a seat. He didn't grumble when they had to walk but she knew he felt the loss of her other form.
It didn't seem to stop him checking this form out at every opportunity.
"I can't believe it," Dean said finally, when they were seated in the diner, and sitting, that felt strange. Like she was occupying space she shouldn't be. Deep inside, she felt that part of her was wrong, like she was broken and needed fixing. Impala tried to shake it off. "I mean, I believe it but I don't believe it."
"Transfiguration like this...that's not easy," Sam said. "I'll call Bobby, see what he thinks. I've just no idea..." Sam fell silent. Oh boy. That wasn't a good sign.
"You'll figure it out. Usually do," Impala said. She glanced around the room. Being inside felt new too. Outside the window was a row of cars, patiently awaiting their owners, locked out of the conversations going on inside. She grinned at both of them, and thumped her hands onto the table. "It's good to see you. This way." She rubbed her eyes. "It feels weird."
"I bet." Dean's face broke into the first grin she'd seen. It was as if a cloud dispersed over him. He'd decided to enjoy it. That was fine with her.
"How do you remember stuff? When you're a car, are you, aware?" Sam played with the edge of the menu absently. He was questioning but his mind was somewhere else, flipping through all the books she had ever seen him read for help.
"I'm pretty sure that as a car, I'm not sentient. You don't have to worry." She smiled, flipped her hair back and saw them both follow it with their eyes. It felt good, sitting there with the two of them. It felt good having their attention. "But as a human, I have all those memories. It's odd." She pursed her lips. "I know that I’m supposed to be a car. Being a human," she cupped her breasts and watched color flush through Sam and Dean's grin broaden even wider, “that’s an adventure. But it isn't right."
Sam nodded. "We'll try and fix it. We will." He took his cell out but the waitress sashayed over, and he paused, clasping his hand around it.
"What can I get you?" She was wearing a short pink dress that just covered her ass. Impala saw both the Winchesters flick their eyes over her. Tiny movements, but they were there. She felt...jealousy. It could only be jealousy.
"A dress like that," Impala said. "See how that accentuates her curves?" She reached out a hand then stilled it. Humans didn't do that. "I want that."
"Well you can't have it!" The waitress, Donna, according to her name tag, laughed and stepped out the way.
"I'm sorry. She...lost all her clothes." Sam worked his puppy dog eyes and Donna grinned.
"You poor thing." She patted Impala's arm. "I have some old pants and a top I use for the gym. You want them?"
"Will they show off my curves?"
"We'll take them," Sam interrupted, frowning at her. "And we'll pay you for them."
Donna waved her hand. "They’re old. Just tip well. Make the other customers follow your lead. So what can I get you?"
They ordered. Impala had no idea what food would fill up her tank so she copied Dean - a steak.
Sam pressed a speed dial. "Bobby might have an idea."
Bobby. Impala remembered Bobby. He took care of her. He knew a lot about cars. "Say hello from me," she said. "Ask if that red beetle got fixed!"
Dean snorted. Impala glared at him, then softened. She couldn't be mad at Dean for long. He'd rebuilt her, after all.
"Dean. How are you doing?" She gave him a flirty smile.
Dean laughed. "Discovering my car's a sexy chick. It's pretty cool."
"As if there was any doubt!" She answered Dean’s puzzled face with a wink. “Any doubt that I would make a sexy woman!" Dean joined in her laughter, and his was deep and throaty. Their eyes locked then Dean coughed, pulling the menu toward him and resting his hands on it. Like he needed something to do with them.
Sam was quietly talking to Bobby, "No. This is not a joke."
"Hi Bobby! It's me! How is the red beetle?" Impala shouted. Bobby would need more convincing.
"No, I didn't pay her to say that. I am not kidding." Sam spoke sternly. Impala liked that tone of voice. Sam could be sexy when he was strict. Sam did some uh-huh-ing into the phone then said, "Right. I'll call back later. Thanks Bobby." He hung up. "Bobby says it's strong magic to be able to do this. Must have been caused by something or someone we ran into recently. So we have to list where we've been in last day or so. See if we can come up with anything. He's gonna research too." Sam sat back in his seat, glancing toward Dean then back at Impala. "He did say it's not likely that this is permanent. ‘Cause that would take magic so strong...it's likely to be temporary."
A feeling flooded through Impala. She was...relieved. She didn't want to stay this form. The sick, wrong feeling inside would never go away if she did. Of course, that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it while it lasted.
**
They had finished eating, but the boys insisted on chatting, asking her what she remembered. She repeated stories of old hunts and they laughed, kept giving each other small looks of I don't fucking believe this.
"You remember crossing the border, going to TJ that time?” Dean said. “That woman-"
"Yeah! She tugged on the handle and when you didn't open it, tried to smash my window!" Impala rubbed her left arm, although she had no real idea if that was where she'd been hurt or not. She squirmed in her seat. Reminiscing was fun, but the seat was confining. Sitting still was difficult. She felt fidgety, like she wanted to be soaring down an open road. "There was the time we went to get Sam. Man. We were so nervous..."
Their laughter died away. "Yeah," Dean said quietly.
Sam shrugged. "Ancient history. Lots of road covered since then."
"Yeah." Impala drummed her fingers on the table. She clasped the salt shaker in her hand, then put it down. Then picked it up again.
"Everything okay?" Dean's voice was soft, concerned. She liked it when he used that tone with her.
"I feel like I need to go. Be on the move."
"I'll go research," Sam said, reaching for his bag. "You two go for a run or something."
Impala met Dean's eyes. "Okay."
She changed into Donna’s gym gear and was happy to see that it did accentuate her curves. Enough so she felt Dean's eyes on her ass as they walked down the street, aiming for the patch of grass at the end.
"Checking out your car Dean? But when didn't you?" She winked, and took off down the road, running as fast as she could. She heard Dean's feet pad after her, and pushed further, taking the body for a test drive, getting used to how these feet worked, the difference between those and her wheels. She used her arms to pump harder; Dean caught up to her and she forced her muscles to keep up with him.
They ran into the park and Impala put the brakes on. Usually she parked at the edge of these things, peering in, longing to know what was inside. There was a lake with green fronds framing it. Beautiful flowers were arranged into a triangle, carefully tended to and looked after. Like she was. Most of the time. They were things she saw up close only when she was squashing them underneath. She knelt down and cupped a pink flower in her hand.
Dean padded back toward her, resting his hands on his knees. "Okay?"
"Yeah. It's beautiful. I usually... I destroy them. I don't mean to, but..." She let go of it. "But I do."
Dean touched her shoulder gently. "Dude. Don't sweat it. You're usually a car." He stared seriously into her eyes and she gazed back, then they both laughed at the same time, loud giggles becoming hysterical.
"Your life. Our life," Impala said, pointing at herself.
"Fucking weird," Dean agreed. He stretched his shoulders, smiled. "Feel better for the run?"
Impala frowned. "Not really. I feel like it's not quite enough." The noise of a car passing, a loud engine accelerating its way around the road's curves, took both their attention. Impala saw a young woman inside, waving impatiently at people to get out of her way. She pointed toward it. "I want to do that. I wanna drive."
**
Sam loped toward them, shaking his head even as he approached. "We're doing what?"
"Taking a car for a test drive, so Impala can get behind the wheel of something fast," Dean said, as if it was obvious. "Let's go look."
"I might know what’s done this," Sam said, stopping Dean in his tracks. "I put in a call, just waiting for a call back."
Dean and Impala exchanged glances. She felt sick with worry. She hoped it worked. "Who?" Dean said, danger brimming in his voice, oil mixed in with the water.
"That magic shop we stopped at yesterday. Bobby said she has lots of power. He's heard of her anyway." Sam shrugged. "I can't think why she'd do it, but I put in a call. We'll see."
Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder. "Good work Sammy. Now, let's go find a car."
They wandered inside, Sam and Impala letting Dean do the talking. Impala wanted a moment with Sam. There’d been lots of anxiety that Dean would leave, that it would be just Sam and her. She had to tell Sam that they’d be okay. The need to speak to him thrummed through her. She hung back and made a hissing noise. Sam walked back to stand next to her. "You okay?" He spoke softly. "I will fix it, I promise."
"That's not it. Only it." Impala gave a quick glance over to where Dean was quizzing some guy about the cars. It didn't matter which they got: none of them were a Chevy Impala like her. She'd handle any of them well. "It's Dean."
"What about Dean?"
"All that, teaching you how to fix me stuff." A smile broke over Sam's face, then started to fade. "It's cause he's dying, I know, and-"
"I'll fix that too," Sam said quickly, determinedly.
"I know." Impala stepped closer, and rested a hand on Sam's arm. "I believe you will. I believe you need to." She made sure Dean wasn't approaching "Dean gives too much, that way." Sam gave a small nod. "I wanted to tell you that whatever happens, we'll be together, right? Even if I am a car. Dean, the car," she struggled to put how she thought Dean felt about her into words, "the three of us will still kinda be together. You know? You and I, we'll look out for each other."
Sam grinned, leaning down and pulling her into a hug. Touching him, resting into his strength, letting him cup her body, felt strange, like the roles were reversed. But correct too, like she was used to it.
"Hey, we got a car. What's going on here?" Dean stood a little way away, waved toward a nearby Porsche. "It's a fucking Porsche, but the guy said we can all take it out for an hour."
"Nothing. Just promising to fix her," Sam lied. He stepped toward the car. "Let's go."
**
This is where Impala belonged, on the road, speeding toward some unknown destination. She floored the gas, taking the bend too fast and shrieking as the adrenaline coursed through her. Dean laughed, and she could feel his admiring eyes watching her every move. Sam coughed nervously from the back.
There was only one thing missing.
Impala reached for the radio, flicked it on, searching for anything that sounded like rock. Dean's fingers closed over hers.
"I'll do it. Sam's having heart failure that you've taken your hand off the wheel."
Impala giggled. "I can control this car easy. Find something decent Dean, and turn it up loud!"
The music pulsed through the car and through her body, flowing through her veins like motor oil. She wound the window down and felt the wind whipping through her hair, crashing it into her face. She leaned across and patted Dean’s knee, needing to share the moment with him even more. He squeezed her hand lightly and let go. She put her hand back on the wheel and grinned at Sam in the mirror.
This was how it was supposed to be.
The time ticked by too fast, and soon she was parking the car back into place. The excitement ebbed away as quickly as it came, and the gnawing feeling that all wasn’t well came back. Dammit.
"Have fun?" Dean asked, sounding amused.
She gave him a small grin, wanting to show she appreciated it. “Yeah! Not long enough!”
Sam's cell rang as they scrambled out of the car. "Hello? Yes. Yes ...you did this? Why?" Dean reached for the cell, clicking his fingers angrily but Sam shied away, moving around the rear of the car. "Is there... I see. Sunrise. Okay. Thanks." He hung up.
"You hung up? I wanted to talk to her." A muscle jumped angrily in Dean's cheek. "Ask her what she was playing at."
"It's temporary. At sunrise she goes back to normal." Relief again, flooding through her. It would soon be over. The gnawing feeling would go away. "She did it ‘cause you picked up those groceries for her Dean.”
“Because I what? Picked up some damn apples?”
Sam nodded. “She said no one ever does her a favor so she thought she’d do one for you. She said she saw how much you loved your car and thought you'd appreciate it."
"Thought I'd-" A faint blush spread over Dean's cheeks. There was a brief silence between the three of them. Sam slid his eyes from Dean to Impala to back again.
Impala laughed to break the tension. "Sunrise then. Time for a drink?"
**
The drink dulled her circuits, impairing her motor function. She laughed a lot too, giggling at everything Dean said, one upping every story he had with another memory that rumbled out of her.
"Then there was the time we had to get out of...I don't remember where. Some small bar in Utah. Dean hit on someone he shouldn't. Man, I don't think he ever drove me so fast!" Impala laughed and Dean and Sam joined in with bewildered throaty chuckles. She waved her hand, knocking the beer over. “Sorry.” She leant forward, felt herself fall too far, somehow banging her shoulder into Dean’s. She cast her eyes up. “Sorry again,” she said, but she didn’t move. It was good feeling Dean’s shoulder against hers. He was warm. Sitting around the table not touching, that was too hard. She angled her body so that she was resting into him more, not taking her eyes off his. Dean’s body shuddered beneath hers. She leaned up, wanting more connection. Dean’s head closed the gap and soon she was taking his lips in hers.
Impala opened her mouth wide to his, allowing his tongue to move inside, to meet her own. He was soft but firm, like his hands on the wheel. He was in control but there was an edge to it - that promise of a race, of more to come. It couldn’t come fast enough. She moaned into his mouth and he pulled away, unsteadily running a hand through his hair. They both glanced over and saw Sam uneasily lifting his body out of his seat. “I’ll be, over there,” Sam said.
Impala scrunched her hands into Dean’s shirt, working a button undone. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m…you’re my car,” Dean said helplessly, shifting his body weight away so that her hand slid off.
“And your problem is?” Impala tugged at his shirt again, pulling him closer and pressing her lips to his. Dean hesitated, then leaned in toward her, molding his body against hers.
**
It took them a long time to get back to the motel. Dean said it was because they had to frickin’ walk, and he said it with a smile like it was her fault and she should be punished. Which was fine by her if he said it with eyes like that. Impala said it was because they stopped every two feet to kiss, and she figured she was right.
They reached the motel in the end, tumbling in the door and bashing into the wall. Dean pressed her against it, the length of his body squeezing her tight against the wall. She kissed him hard, wanted to be part of him, for him to be inside her. That was normal, that was right. The kiss wasn’t deep enough; Dean was holding back, somehow. His hands skittered across her body, not settling on any one place. She broke off. “I won’t break,” she growled, and pushed back, kicking at his legs as she did.
They crashed to the floor in a tangle. She saw Dean’s eyes flash and a wall fell away. He tore at her top and she fought the clothes that kept him from her, ripping them off, kissing any spare piece of flesh she came across. Nipping a little, eliciting soft moans from Dean as she did. She breathed in his scent, good to have it close, filling her up; cologne and sweat mingling together. She rubbed against him roughly. Dean kissed her bare shoulder, ran a hand maddeningly down into her pants and paused before pulling them down. He twisted a finger into her and she felt her juices flow. He started a rhythm, moved it up a notch, then slid another finger in. A moan rumbled out of her.
“Man, I’m well lubricated,” she panted. Dean snorted. She dug her nails into his back. “I need more,” she croaked.
Dean paused, lifted himself off her just as her hand slid into his boxers and palmed his cock. She’d seen it before, in the back seat, but this felt different. Holding it made her thrum with energy. With need for them to get going. She took him in her hand, stroking him. “Why are you stopping?” She stroked him again, then pushed his boxers completely away.
“I don’t know, if… I need.”
“A condom?” She guessed and he winked. “No idea. May as well. Pregnant car might not be worth dealing with.”
Dean chuckled, and she unwillingly slid her hand away and let him reach to rifle for his wallet. Impala squirmed, impatient to continue but soon he was back, readying himself to enter her, then he was sliding into place. Being connected felt right, made her engines hum with desire and want. Dean breathed out loud, then moved. This was a completely different way of having him inside her and she couldn’t get enough of it. She grabbed at his ass, pushing for him to go harder, and he answered her. She bit his shoulder and he moaned. She ran a finger down the crack of his ass and he let out a loud breath. He answered her every move with one of his own.
They went hard and fast, full speed ahead.
**
“I half thought you’d be a virgin,” Dean said into the quiet silence. “Seeing as the body’s new.”
“Only it’s not is it?” Impala laughed. “Been ridden in lots of times.” Dean rolled his eyes and she poked him. “Don’t tell me you weren’t about to make that joke.”
“You know me too well,” Dean said, reaching his hand over to trace a lazy circle around her belly button. “Which is…different.”
“I know.” Which was why Impala felt she had to talk to him. There was a message she felt compelled to try and get to him. She reached for his hand and stopped its distracting circles. “Dean?”
“Yeah?” He propped himself up on his elbow. “What is it?” He glanced toward the window. “Is it that you’re gonna change?”
“It’s Sam.”
“Oh.” He lifted himself up fully, giving her a quizzical look.
“It’s about the deal.”
“Oh.” Dean put a hand flat on her stomach. “I’ve been teaching Sam how to look after you, you know that? Once I’ve gone.”
“It’s not that.” She frowned and sat up. “I know that. I know Sam’s been fixing me. He tightened some things too tight, inside somewhere.” She rested her hand on Dean’s knee. “I want you to let Sam look out for you.”
Dean sighed. “Not you too.”
“Neither of us want you to go anywhere. Just…promise me you won’t get so mad with him.”
Dean tightened his face. She glared back at him and raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” Dean said finally, leaning forward to kiss her, tumbling them both back onto the bed.
This time it was leisurely and slow. His hands were gentle as they traced down her body, outlining every bend as they went. Her curves felt like they fit exactly against his body, and when he cupped her breast in his hand, it fit exactly. The groove of her hip received his other hand gratefully. She dug her hand into his hair, pulling him close for a kiss.
Dean broke off, kissing down her body, tracing every curve with his tongue. He reached her clit and she buried her hands in his hair as he tasted her, licking slowly, maddeningly, not picking up the pace enough. She bucked up against him and he laughed, leaning up to kiss her. She tasted herself on his tongue.
They clicked into place again, riding it out, drawing it out as long as possible. She wished there could be no brake, that there could just be a slow speed down the asphalt to the finish line.
**
”Time to call Sam,” Impala said, gazing out of the window at the dark sky. “Not long to sunrise. I wonder where he is?”
“In another room I hope, as there’s no car to sleep in.” Impala nodded, and thought of all the times in the future she’d give them a secure place, without even knowing it.
Sam arrived quickly and she spent her last couple of hours chatting to them both, hearing them laugh and trade stories, watching their faces crease with giggles or become solemn if the subject required it. It was good looking at them with these eyes, it felt fresh and real in a way she knew it never would be again.
Impala saw the sun starting to break over the horizon. Not long. She stood up. “We should go outside. Don’t want a car in your motel room.”
They trooped after her, pausing at the sidewalk. She reached toward Sam and pulled him into a hug. He held her tight, and gave her a squeeze. She pulled away and gripped his hair in her hands. “You keep on doing what you’re doing Sam. And you know, you and me, if we have to, we’ll take care of each other.” Sam gave a small nod, reaching down to give her a soft kiss.
Impala turned away, toward Dean who immediately pulled her into a tight hug. She pressed her body against his, feeling him taut and muscular in a way she wouldn’t be able to again. She tilted her head back and freed her hand to poke him in the chest. “You listen to your brother sometimes, you hear?” Dean smiled. “And take me for a long ride when I’m a car again. Work out the kinks.” Dean kissed his assent, long and lingering.
“I want my car back, but I will miss-“ Dean began, but she cut off the rest of his sentence with a kiss. She knew what he was trying to say.
Impala pulled away when she felt a bright light coursing through her. “I’ll miss seeing you this way,” she told them. “But this is for the best.” They both nodded. She backed away, and felt light and heat bursting through every atom of her body. She saw the Winchesters fading away, and knew it was her fading, her change happening.
It was scary but she let it consume her, consoling herself with the thought that soon she’d be back with the two of them, on the road.
**
I would love to know what you thought.
I ticked the Explicit Adult Content box! Am I supposed to do that? Do I have to go back and label all my old fic?
This was the last Outside POV in the 30 I wrote for MiniNano. Here is a link to a table of everything I wrote
*Falls down exhausted*