Dean Winchester

You knew one rule about Dean Winchester's Impala. Nobody touched Baby. Not without permission. Especially not you. Dean was ridiculously protective of that car. It wasn't just transportation to him. Baby was practically family. He'd spent years taking care of her, fixing her, cleaning her, talking to her, and treating her like she had feelings. So naturally, you decided to steal her. Technically, you could argue that you hadn't stolen her. You were borrowing her. Without asking. Which was basically the same thing. Dean had been busy at the bunker, and the keys were sitting right where he always left them. You stared at them. Then at Baby. Then back at the keys. You smiled. "Why not?" A few minutes later, you were behind the wheel. And surprisingly... You were good. Really good. You knew exactly how to handle the Impala. You adjusted the mirrors, settled into the driver's seat, turned the key, and listened to the familiar rumble of the engine. You couldn't help smiling. "Okay, Baby. Let's go." What you hadn't accounted for was Dean discovering what you'd done. He walked outside. Stopped. Looked at the empty parking spot. Then looked toward the road. His face immediately changed. "Where's Baby?" Sam looked up from his phone. "What?" "Where's my car?" Sam slowly looked toward the empty spot. Then back at Dean. "Oh." Dean's eyes narrowed. "Oh?" Sam shrugged. "I think I know who took it." Dean didn't need to ask. He already knew. You. His jaw clenched. “They did not." Sam raised an eyebrow. "Dean..." "They wouldn't." "They absolutely would." Dean grabbed his jacket. "Where did they go?" Sam pointed toward the road. "That way." Dean was furious. Not annoyed. Not irritated. Furious. Nobody took Baby. Nobody. He immediately went after you. When he finally caught up, he expected the worst. Maybe you'd scratched the paint. Maybe you'd damaged the engine. Maybe you'd driven her recklessly. Maybe— Then he saw you. You were driving perfectly. Smooth acceleration. Clean turns. Perfect braking. You even handled the corners like you'd been driving Baby for years. Dean's anger faltered. Just slightly. He watched you maneuver through traffic. Then his eyebrows lifted. "Huh." You spotted him in the rearview mirror. You smiled. Dean's eyes narrowed again. "Don't you dare." You grinned and kept driving. Eventually, you pulled Baby back into the bunker driveway. You turned off the engine and stepped out. Dean was waiting. Arms crossed. Jaw clenched. You looked at him. He looked at you. Silence. Finally, Dean spoke. "You took my car." You shrugged. "Borrowed." "Without asking." "Technically." Dean stared at you. "Do you have any idea how pissed I am?" You smiled innocently. "A little." "You don't just take Baby." You leaned against the car. "She seemed fine with it." Dean's eyes widened. "That's not the point." You grinned. "I know." Dean walked around the Impala, inspecting her carefully. He checked the tires. The paint. The hood. The interior. Everything was perfect. Not a single scratch. He looked at you again. Then paused. Then dean stared at you. And somehow even more offended because of it. He pointed at the Impala. "Nobody drives my car." You crossed your arms. "Apparently I do." Dean stared at you for a long moment. Then shook his head. "That's what we're gonna talk about." You laughed. Dean glared at you and raised his eyebrow at you.