Author's Note: My friend made a joke today that inspired this. Just a fun little one-shot. Enjoy. ;)


Driving Lessons

Dean had absolutely no idea what had spawned this new insanity. He clutched at his seat, ignoring the bead of sweat sliding down his face as anxiety clenched in his gut. The muscles in his neck were rippling with tension from keeping his neck from snapping back and forth for the last hour.

"Gas," he said through clenched teeth.

"I AM pushing the gas!"

"No, that's the BRAKE!"

"What is the difference?! Why do you even bother with these mundane things?"

The car shot forward like a bullet. Dean shouted in surprise and braced his hands against the dash. "Brake, Cas!" he bellowed as they shot head-first for the pole in the center of the parking lot.

Castiel stomped on the brake, sending the little stolen Honda skidding in a deadlock across the parking lot. "I pushed the right one!" he said, slight enthusiasm hinting his tone.

Dean took a deep breath and hoped for patience. "Let's start over," he suggested, forcing himself to talk normally. He had no doubt that in a head-on collision with a pole Castiel could walk away perfectly fine. He, on the other hand, would be in the ICU or paralyzed for the rest of his life. He reached over and turned the car off.

"Step one?"

"Turn key," Castiel replied robotically.

"No."

"Excuse me?" Castiel's voice was dark and deadly.

"I mean, no. First step?"

"It's logic, Dean. The vehicle must be started before the whirly thing under the hood will work."

"Engine."

"What?"

"It's called an engine," Dean said absently, resisting the urge to bang his head against the window in frustration. "If you're so sure, go ahead, Mr. I'm-an-Angel-of-the-Lord-and-I-know-everything."

Castiel stabbed the key in the ignition and tried to turn it. "It's not working," he said through clenched teeth.

"No kidding," Dean deadpanned. "Try putting your foot on the brake, genius."

The angel did as he requested, annoyance flashing on his face before it smoothed over as the engine came to life.

"See? We mud monkey's aren't as useless as you think."

The engine revved loudly when Castiel impatiently slammed on the gas. "It's not WORKING."

"Well, put it in drive, genius. I told you that thirty-six times. Jesus!"

"Well, at least Jesus is easier to understand than you!"

Dean took a deep breath again. "Alright, calm down. Let's try this again."

Castiel made a noise somewhere between a growl and frustrated grumble. He slammed his foot on the brake, started the car, and put it in drive.

"Now, hit the gas."

The car shot forward again.

"BRAKE! CASTIEL, BRAKE, BRAKE, BRAKE!"

"YOU SAID TO HIT THE GAS!"

"IT'S AN EXPRESSION, I DIDN'T MEAN TO STOMP ON IT!" Dean roared. "Whoa!" He ducked instinctively as the car shot way too fast towards the corner of the parking lot, headed directly for a pole.

The car peeled around the turn, narrowly missing the pole as the car teetered on two wheels, dangerously stuck for a moment before slamming back onto the pavement hard enough to jostle the occupants, Castiel wide-eyed and Dean as pale as a sheet.

"BRAKE!"

"Which one is the brake?" Castiel yelled in frustration.

"THE LEFT ONE!"

The car accelerated more.

"The OTHER left!" Dean bellowed as they narrowly missed another pole.

Castiel hit the brake, skidding to a halt three inches from the next pole, Dean smacking his head against the window and cussing loudly in protest. The angel took the keys out of the ignition and threw them at Dean.

"I prefer my methods of travel," he said emotionlessly, back to his usual cold-as-hell demeanor. He yanked his trench coat straight and disappeared with a whoosh of air that knocked Dean against the window (again) and the quiet flutter of wings.

"I'm starting to agree with you," Dean grumbled, struggling to slow his racing heart and ignore his now-pounding headache. And then, caught up with the absurdity of the situation, he threw his head back and laughed.

For an angel…Castiel was really quite clueless.

And, apparently, a terrible driver.