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“Bring her back in one piece!” You heard Dean call after you and Charlie.
Of course he was referring to his car. You and Charlie were heading out on a supply run and Dean had graciously lent you Baby for your travels.
“Don’t worry,” Charlie yelled back. “I’ll take good care of her.” She threw a wink in your direction and you didn’t know whether to laugh or melt so you let out a quiet, strangled giggle.
******
Supply runs like this doubled as “dates” because it was the only time you two could spend alone together outside of the bunker. Ah, the romance of grocery stores. Half the fun was actually driving around Kansas with the Impala windows rolled down, singing and laughing at the top of your lungs. Sometimes it was Dean’s cassette tapes, sometimes it was your phones plugged in, playing either playlists specifically compiled for one another or whatever came on shuffle. Sometimes you even went the extra mile and made actual mixtapes for each other to play on the road. There was something about having this tangible item in your hand as opposed to a playlist that exists only in cyberspace.
Tonight, it was the latter. A mixtape you had put together was playing as you drove, jamming out anything from the Buffy musical soundtrack to Carly Rae Jepson. Charlie’s fingers were tangled in yours, her red hair blowing smoothly in the breeze. You stole glances at her at the risk of crashing Baby, but it was worth it to soak in the (metaphorical) angel sitting beside you. Plus, it was late so not a whole lot was happening on the road. Not much of a party town, Lebanon.
Whatever song was playing before it happened, you couldn’t say. All you know is that the minute you heard that ba ba ba ba, it was immediately followed by Charlie’s laughter.
“The Partridge Family?” she choked out. “Really?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle yourself, regardless of how much this song slapped.
“What’s that?” you asked, holding a hand up to your ear. “I can’t hear you.”
You reached down and turned the dial to the right, drowning out the sound of Charlie losing it in the passenger seat.
I’m sleeping
And right in the middle of a good dream…
You sang along dramatically, serenading your cackling girlfriend, who couldn’t believe the absurdity of what she was witnessing.
…screaming out the words I dread
I think I love you
You were practically shouting the words at this point and by the chorus, Charlie had joined in, the two of you howling with laughter.
I think I love you
So what am I so afraid of?
I’m afraid that I’m not sure of
A love there is no cure for
Grasping each others hands in faux passion and corniness, your left hand remaining on the wheel and your eyes only half trained on the road at this point, you really did love her. The way she threw her head back laughing at you, the way she joined in on your ridiculousness without hesitation, the way she belted every lyric to the song she was making fun of not a minute before. You wanted to wrap her and this moment up in a bulletproof, water-resistant box forever and never let it go.
…Do you think you love me?
I think I love you…
As you pulled into the practically abandoned parking lot of the local grocery store, you started to quiet down and let The Partridge Family do the talking. But the minute you put the car in park, Charlie slammed her hand on the off button, cutting them off. She softly grabbed your face and kissed you. You melted under her touch and grabbed her wrists in return. When she pulled back a couple inches, she searched your face until she found your eyes.
“I think I love you,” she whispered, stifling a laugh.
“I know,” you returned in the most Han Solo-y voice you could muster. You dropped your head to her shoulder as you both succumbed to a fit of giggles.
This wasn’t your first time saying “I love you”, but the two of you couldn’t resist getting all dorky with each other every chance you got.
Eventually the giggles subsided and your lips found each other again, escalating things quickly. Stumbling into the backseat together, you shed whatever unnecessary clothing you could in the cramped space. Charlie was on top of you, drawing sounds from your lips as she touched you exquisitely in all the right places. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. It was pure bliss. The windows would have immediately fogged up, had you remembered to close them after the drive over.
******
“Honey, we’re home!” Charlie announced as you slammed the bunker door behind you.
Sam and Dean came to take some of the plastic shopping bags from you. They both looked at the two of you questioningly.
“What the hell took you so long?” Dean asked. “You didn’t even get that much stuff.”
Charlie looked at you and shrugged.
“Took us forever to get out of there.” She jabbed her thumb in your direction. “This one couldn’t keep her hands off the merchandise.”
You nearly dropped every bag in your hand. How the guys didn’t catch this innuendo, you have no idea, but you were grateful when they simply helped bring the groceries in and moved on.
******
The next morning, you were all up early to chase a new lead. Charlie the Tech Goddess hung back to continue the research portion of the case while you, Sam, Dean, Cas, and Gabriel hit the road. You weren’t even gonna be gone long, but your codependent ass needed a minute to say goodbye to Charlie. The guys headed out to the Impala, reminding you to make it snappy, not sappy, before leaving the two of you alone.
In the car, Dean sat behind the wheel with Sam in the passenger seat. Cas and Gabriel slid in the backseat, leaving room for you in the seat behind Dean. When all the doors were closed, Cas and Gabe exchanged a look. Cas’ eyebrows were furrowed in his classic confused baby in a trench coat kind of way. Gabe, however, was almost smirking. He let out a low whistle.
“Wow, someone’s been getting down and dirty in here,” Gabe teased. “Deano, you sly dog.”
Dean turned to face the rest of the car, confused. The smell hit his and Sam’s human noses a second later.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, looking around. For what, he didn’t know.
Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably while Gabe continued to throw inappropriate jokes at Dean. Cas stared at his lap silently.
“Dude, it wasn’t me,” Dean said. “I’m not in my 20s anymore. I can’t just crawl in the backseat like that.”
Dean’s eyes bulged and he looked Sam up and down, disgust painted on his face. Sam did a double take and immediately put his hands up.
“Hey, woah, don’t look at me!” Sam said defensively before Gabe could switch aims. “I can’t even fit back there.”
“Well, then who the hell’s been banging in my car?” Dean was becoming more agitated by the second. “Because it reeks of sex in here, Sammy, and I swear to go-“
Before he could finish his threat, the back door swung open and you plopped into the seat behind him. A silent realization dawned on the four of them. After a moment, Gabe was the only one who could look at you. He shook his head, impressed, and you looked at him questioningly. When he started to smirk, you looked to Sam for answers. He only glanced your way awkwardly, not even looking directly at you. Dean went from surprised to angry again and stared out the windshield. Cas, speaking for the first time, broke the silence.
“It would appear there’s been some,” he paused then looked you directly in the eye. “Activity going on in here.”
Your eyes widened at the emphasis on the word “activity” and you quickly turned your gaze out the window. Gabe continued to snicker to himself.
“So much for taking care of my car,” Dean mumbled as he turned the key in the ignition. Before pulling out of the garage, he pressed play on the radio to put an end to this horrifying moment. But that only made it worse.
…I think I love you
(I think I love you)…
All eyes turned to you; some amused, some confused, Dean’s disgusted. You slumped down in your seat.
“You boned to The Partridge Family?!” Dean shouted incredulously.