There had been very few things more important to Dean than tracking down his car after arriving in this ass backwards place; and screw using the bracelets, didn’t trust ‘em, wasn’t happening. Probably one reason why it had taken him this long; and honestly, coming across it tonight, that was pure chance. He’d been working a case, your standard gank and go variety creep, and decided on stopping at the bar before hitting the road. Could always use a little cash, hustling pool usually saw to that.
And that was when he came across the impala. Sitting in the parking lot; matching license plate, all the little details matching that let him know, there was no doubt it was his car. “Oh baby, what’d they do to you?” Surprisingly, it looked like she’d been taken care of, and…was that a bra in the backseat? He slid his hand over the hood, affectionately, inspecting for any damage. “Don’t worry…I’m not leaving you again.” No, he didn’t care how it sounded. It was his car, damnit.
Stepping around, Dean tried the door, just to find out it was locked. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath. It was looking like he was going to have to break into it. “I’ll be gentle,” he assured the impala before a familiar voice caught his attention. Whirling around, he came face to face with Faith, eyebrows lifting just a touch. “So you’ve been drivin’ my car.” Stepping closer, he held her gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching before pulling into a smirk. “Thank god, I thought some douchebag stole her.”