"Son of a biiiitch!" Dean groaned as his baby accelerated. The highway was in the middle of nowhere. This was supposed to be safe. When planning for possible craziness, Dean had reasoned that there were no other cars around, just miles of open road. What could possibly go wrong? Dean had decided that teaching his best friend to drive would be a great, and useful early Christmas present. After all, Cas was living a lifestyle that was increasingly human. He should probably know basic skills, like driving a car. Of course, when thinking of the "open road" Dean had not considered the trees surrounding the damn road. Snow was drifting down in gentle flakes, in a way that seemed much too calm for the current situation. They were swerving dangerously, and the hunter, who after all fought monsters for a living, felt his heart accelerating almost as fast as his car. "Jesus Christ, slow down!"

"How?" Castiel asked in an innocent tone. He turned to look at Dean with wide eyes, and tilted his head to the side, making Dean's heart melt. Why did he have to be so goddamn adorable? A frost covered pine in the forest which they were approaching much to fast drew Dean away from his distraction.

"Oh shit! Cas, turn!" he cried as they came within inches of the pine. It was too late. The side of the Impala scraped against its bark. "Damn it Cas, just hit the brakes!" Dean snapped.

"Dean, I don't know how!"

"Just hit the pedal on the left you idiot!" Dean really couldn't believe it was possible for his baby to move even faster, but somehow, it seemed to be happening. "Other left!"

"What?" Dean clenched his teeth as he unbuckled and swung his leg over the angel's lap, slamming his foot against the brake pedal. There was a scathing screeching sound as Dean's baby skidded to a stop.

Both men where slammed forwards. Dean's head smashed against the dashboard, and he jerked back with a yell, slamming into Cas. He found himself leaning back and holding his hand to his head. He realized only after a few moments of blinding pounding pain, that he was in Castiel's lap, leaning against him. One of his legs was still in his own seat, and the other was still pressed against the brake. Shit, what if the guy was hurt? Dean still didn't really get how that worked, or if Cas could be harmed by things like this.

"Are you alright, Dean?" Cas asked. Dean slid the leg that was still in his own seat over so that he was all the way on the angel's lap. He twisted to look at Cas. Their faces were inches apart. Dean could feel himself pressed against the angel, sitting on his lap, and there was something happening in the hunter's lap as well…Wait, what the hell? NO. He should not be feeling what he thought he was feeling. What was going on with him? Maybe it had just been awhile, that was all. Dean tried to be subtle about covering his lap with his hands.

"Are you?" he asked.

"I am an angel of the lord. An incident such as this-"

"I just didn't know," Dean interrupted before he could hear more of Cas' bragging. What the Hell was he so proud of anyway? It wasn't like angels were all they were made out to be. They weren't righteous at all. Basically all of them except Cas were dicks with wings.

"Your head," Cas reached up, and placed a hand on the side of Dean's forehead with a carefulness that was amazing, considering the skills in battle Dean had seen his friend display.

"It's fine."

"If you are hurt, I will heal you."

"Thank you." With a touch of the angel's palm, the pain in his head vanished.

"Dean?"

"Yes?" Dean was pressed against the angel, shaking.

"Can you, um…Can you please climb off of me?" Dean felt his heart sink, for some reason he did not understand. He climbed into his own seat clumsily. Cas slipped off his trench coat, and Dean was confused.

"What the hell are you doing, you weirdo?" he asked. He rarely saw Cas take of the tan trench coat. He wore the damn thing twenty four seven for Christ's sake.

"Here," Cas handed Dean the coat. Dean just looked at it.

"Well I'm not going to hold this for you," he said. "Throw it in the back if you don't want to wear it." Cas rolled his eyes. Dean couldn't help but laugh at that. He was wearing off on his friend.

"I'm giving it to you to wear, you idiot," Cas said. Dean slipped on the coat. The cold still stung, but the thick fabric of the coat did help. It smelled nice, a little like sweat, and maybe laundry detergent. There was something else, something Dean couldn't place. It smelled like Cas, like his skin, his warmth, his presence.

"Thanks, I'm freezing," Dean said, as he wrapped the coat around himself. Why was his heart beating so fast? The danger was over.

"You're welcome," came Cas' reply. Damn, his voice was deep. Dean looked up, and found himself lost in the beautiful blue pools of Castiel's eyes. They gazed at one another for several moments before Dean remembered that Sam was waiting at the hotel with burgers, and, if the bitch actually remembered this time, pie. Sam was probably obsessively researching right now anyway. They were trying to track down something that was sneaking into people's houses through their chimneys and leaving lots of blood and a little chocolate along with a stench like death. Dean hoped his baby bro came up with something because this case had him pretty stumped. "We should go back."

"Perhaps you should drive on the way back," Cas suggested. No shit, Dean thought. He snorted as he climbed out of the car to switch spots.

"Perhaps," he muttered as he climbed into the driver's seat. "Nice word. You're such a nerd, Cas." Dean started the Impala moving just in time to swerve out of the way as another car came flying at them. He cringed as he heard the crunch of metal when the other car collided with the back of his baby. Dean could feel his shocked expression as he climbed out of the car to see who had hit them in the vehicle which seemed to have come from nowhere. He could see that the back of the Impala was badly dented, but fixable. He made his way over to the other car, which was pulled over a little ways ahead of them. Inside, a tall dark haired man and a short light haired man were arguing. It was the dark haired one that was driving, and he looked downright intimidating. Even Dean was impressed. The pleasant British accent took some of the edge off the dude's demeanor though.

"I told you, Americans are all stupid, John, this is an idiot nation."

"Sherlock, we haven't even seen if they're alright! Besides, you think everywhere is an idiot nation."

"Compared to me, I am right in thinking so. Does it matter?"

"If they're alright? Of course it matters!"

"It was still their fault."

"All the same, I think that we should-" the short, light haired man stopped speaking midsentence when he saw Dean staring into his window. "Hello there," he said.

"Hi," Dean said, struggling to keep his tone calm. "You guys hit us."

"You were parked in the middle of the road, you complete moron."

"Who are you calling moron jackass?"