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It was a night on the road like any other. There was no case—they’d wrapped up the last one a day ago, and so far nothing new was on their radar. Baby liked these nights best. They were just driving, no real destination. She had a full tank of gas, smooth asphalt below her wheels, and clear, star studded skies above. They’d drive until they found a motel, or if they didn’t, they’d pull over and bunk down on her bench seats. She’d keep them cozy and warm until morning, because that was her job and she took it seriously.
It was a typical night, too, in the glances Sam threw Dean every so often. Not too often to be noticeable—by Dean, anyway. He wasn’t always the most observant guy. Of course, Dean glanced at Sam almost as often, quick and casual, as if he could just be checking the mirrors. Ever since Dean had brought Sam back on the road, she noticed both brothers had a hard time keeping their eyes off each other. It was as if they were afraid the other would disappear if they didn’t keep eyes on them at all times. It was sweet, and a little sad. She wished once in a while they’d look at each other and realize they wanted the same thing.
There Sam went again, looking at his brother. Did he even realize the softness in his eyes, the half smile decorating his face? She never saw Sam look like that except when he was looking at Dean. Dean, for his part, was nodding along with the song on the radio—Guns and Roses’s “Think About You.” She wished he’d take a clue from the song and see how the love that Axl was singing about existed right here, between him and his brother, and maybe even take some of that action he was famous for. But no, it seemed she’d spend the rest of her life watching them watch each other with nothing to show for it.
Suddenly, she got some inspiration. Maybe there was something she could do about it. She concentrated, and turned the radio dial. GNR gave way to Randy Travis. Not bad. “If you wonder how long I’ll be faithful, I’ll be happy to tell you again. Forever and ever, amen.”
“What the hell? Country?” Dean groused mildly. Baby smiled. He was such a hypocrite. He’d sing along to Johnny Cash and the Dixie Chicks, too, if no one else was around. He reached for the radio, but she changed the station first. Late-period Elton John crooned, “Can you feel the love tonight?”
Sam chuckled. “We must be going through some kind of radio hot spot.”
Dean huffed. “Then let’s get out a tape.”
Sam sighed and reached for the box of tapes, just as Baby moved the dial again. Celine Dion was belting her heart out about “the power of love.” He paused, his hands hovering over the tapes.
“Come on, let’s do some AC/DC, Motörhead, anything, dude,” Dean urged.
“Right, sure,” Sam said, carding through the tapes slowly. Baby smirked. He was a Celine fan from way back.
Finally, he grabbed one and put it in the tape deck. Baby tensed, ready to spit the tape back out if necessary, but Foreigner came on, singing, “I wanna know what love is.”
“Foreigner? What tape is this?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know, I just picked something randomly,” Sam said defensively. “Besides, I kinda like this song.”
They listened for a while and Baby thought she knew why Sam liked this song. Dean was mouthing along with the chorus. Again—hypocrite. “I wanna feel what love is. I want you to show me.”
Sam was looking at Dean again, but he looked away just as Dean glanced over at him. Baby was losing patience. What else could she possibly do?
“You want to stop soon?” Sam said. “It’s getting pretty late.” His voice was full of warmth and softness that Dean couldn’t—or wouldn’t—hear.
“Sure, let me find a place,” Dean said, his voice smooth and comforting.
Baby shook her head. Bobby was right—they were both idjits.
“I wanna feel what love is. I know you can show me.”
Dean pulled off the road and onto a wide shoulder, tucking her against the farthest berm from the road. No other cars were around, anyway. “Grab the blankets?”
“Yeah,” Sam said, already moving to the trunk, leaving the passenger door ajar.
Dean, alone now, dropped his head forward onto the steering wheel with a clunk. “Idiot,” he muttered to himself. “He doesn’t want—”
Yes! Yes he does want, Baby wanted to scream. Instead, she mustered all of her energy to keep the tape running as Dean shut off her engine. “I know you can show me.”
Dean looked at the stereo. “What the hell?”
Sam was holding two blankets and staring through the open door at the tape deck. “That’s strange.”
“I want you to show me.”
Dean looked at the key, very definitely in the off position. “Huh.” He looked at Sam.
“I wanna feel what love is.”
“Has this ever happened before?” Sam asked with curiosity.
“No,” Dean said, sounding perplexed. “But maybe I got some wires crossed when I did the rebuild?”
“I know you can show me.”
Finally, the song ended and Baby couldn’t hold on anymore. She let the tape deck go dead. She’d done her best. The rest was up to them.
The last strains of the song seemed to echo in the still night air. Sam handed Dean a blanket through the open door. Dean’s fingers skimmed the back of Sam’s hand. Sam let out a small, involuntary noise.
Get in, get in, Baby chanted, but Sam shut the front door and got into the back seat alone with his blanket, just like he had since he and Dean got too big to curl up together back there.
Dean hummed a little bit of the song before stopping himself. “Fucking Foreigner,” he muttered.
“I always kinda liked that song,” Sam said again, softly.
Attaboy, Sam. It was weak, but it was something.
“Yeah? Well, it’s better than Celine Dion,” Dean said, trying to get comfortable behind the wheel.
Sam let out a huff of a laugh. “Sure.”
They were both silent for a moment. Then Sam whisper-sang. “I wanna know what love is.”
Dean popped up to sitting and glared over the bench seat at his brother, who was propped up on an elbow trying to arrange his blanket. “Don’t you start.”
“Sorry,” Sam said, sitting up all the way. “Stuck in my head now.” A beat, then he sang, “I want you to show me.”
“Sam,” Dean said, a warning.
“Dean,” Sam returned. They stared each other down. They were actually looking at each other at the same time! Baby wondered if they could see in each other’s eyes what she’d been seeing for months. Years, maybe.
“I know you can show me,” Sam sang softly, off key but recognizable, still holding his brother’s gaze.
Dean’s eyes flicked unmistakably down to Sam’s lips. “Sam.”
“Dean,” Sam said again. And then he leaned forward. He was leaning! Baby couldn’t contain her excitement, until she realized Dean wasn’t meeting him halfway. Oh no, she wasn’t going to get this close only to fail now. Again, she summoned all her remaining strength and rocked her chassis as hard as she could, making the car jolt and Dean lurch over the seat back, his face ending up half an inch from his brother’s.
“Sam,” he said again, not moving, but sounding tortured.
“Dean,” Sam said again, and this time he erased the millimeters between them and pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips.
Baby held her breath until she was sure Dean was kissing back. When he clambered into the back seat, she let out a whoop.
Dean lifted his head from where he’d been ravaging his brother’s mouth. “Did you hear something?”
“I think the horn honked,” Sam said breathlessly. “Weird.”
They exchanged a glance, shrugged, and went back to kissing. When the chassis started rocking again due to the activities of the brothers in the back seat, Baby decided that was when she should turn in for the night. She loved them, but she didn’t love them. Not the way they loved each other. And she drifted off to sleep with a smile on her grill.
The End