Title: How the Apocalypse 2.0 Was Really Averted
Good Omens, Supernatural.
Night's Fang
Bentley/Impala. Yes, you read that right, Bentley/Impala.
In what would forever be known as the most mind-boggling plot twist, in the end the Apocalypse wasn't stopped by heroic sacrifices, witty plans, any development of eleventh hour superpowers, or even simply hugging it out. It was averted by 'Mating Season' for supernaturally affected cars kicking in, and Bobby and Adam Young being the only sane men around.
Word Count:
Pure ungodly utter crack.
I don't own Good Omens or Supernatural. No, really.

The Impala gave a very enthusiastic purr as it slid itself even closer against the Bentley. If that was even possible anymore. The two cars were already touching door to door. The Bentley gave what sounded like a very happy honk in reply.

All around on the battlefield of the Apocalypse 2.0, everyone had stopped fighting to observe the scene in morbid fascination.

The cars had started to snuggle – well it was assumed that what they were doing was snuggling – about an hour ago. They didn't give any indication of stopping any time soon. And sometime after the first fifteen minutes all the angels, demons, and various other supernatural entities present – Michael (who was using Adam Milligan as his host) and Lucifer (still using Nick as his vessel) included – had noticed, and started to find it more interesting to watch than what they were currently doing. Curiosity was after all not restricted only to humans and animals. Demons and Angels by nature were equally curious. Actually as much as they would deny it, they were probably more curious.

And probably more sexually repressed than anything else in this universe, but only Gabriel could get away with saying that.

Besides giving lengthy monologues about good, evil, and the pros cons and beauty of humanity, and attempting to hack each other into pieces was boring anyway. Watching two cars hit on each other? That was fucking priceless. It was also kind of cute, in the whole brain breaking, what-the-fuck-is-going-on-here way.

Team Free Will had taken a while to catch on, killing a few dozen demons each before they realised that the demons weren't attacking any more.

The Impala honked, blinked its headlights twice – the car version of fluttering eyes, and gave another purr of the engine. It sounded far too seductive a noise for a car to ever make.

Everyone else waited in baited breath to see how the Bentley would respond.

The Bentley immediately turned on its tape-deck and started blasting Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.

Some cheers were heard all around the battlefield. Dean looked positively horrified. Crowley looked like he was about to have an aneurysm at the fact that his Bentley was serenading another car. Castiel and Aziraphale were immediately at their respective friend's sides trying to comfort them. Although how one was to go about comforting a friend about their cars coming alive and hitting on another car, in the middle of the Apocalypse no less, was still a mystery to them. They were working on it, and making it up as they went.

Crowley had already known his car was somewhat alive. Any object having had constant prolonged exposure to the supernatural would start to develop a mind and personality of its own. His Bentley stuck to never needing any gas, air, and turning all the music he owned into Queen. And apparently, that list now included serenading 1967 Chevrolet Impalas. Dean however didn't have the luxury of knowing that fact. It meant that this was his first exposure to it. And understandably, given the current situation he was in, he was at a loss for how to react.

Somewhere else in the battlefield Gabriel appeared, probably hoping for a surprise attack to both his brothers, and the ability to goad them. He took one look at what was happening and disappeared again. He re-appeared, this time with popcorn and chocolate bars in hand, obviously intent on enjoying the show.

The Impala also turned on her tape-deck and started blasting Metallica's Enter Sandman.

Dean groaned and looked like he was about to faint. Castiel shook him awake. Crowley had gone catatonic, much to Aziraphale's dismay.

Sam, who had the misfortune to be standing next to Lucifer because the devil had trapped him there before Michael himself using Adam as a vessel had shown up to distract him, was completely confused. One minute everyone was fighting each other wanting Heaven or Hell to win, the next they were unanimously cheering for Car Porn. That was just strange, even for Sam who'd grown up neck deep in strange.

The actual Car Porn was decidedly stranger.

He jerked when he was tapped softly on the shoulder. Thankfully, he turned his gaze away from the cars, who had abandoned snuggling and serenading each other and were now both revving their engines enthusiastically, to meet the owner of the hand tapping his shoulder. A blond man, who looked to be Dean's age, and like a carving of Michelangelo come to life wearing everyday clothes was grinning back at him. Behind him, Bobby who was looking much better than he had fifteen minutes ago when he was knocked out by a demon, shrugged. Before Sam could even react, the blond held a finger to his lips indicating he be quiet, undoing whatever mojo Lucifer had placed on him trapping him in the first place. He experimentally moved his legs, before sneaking away from Lucifer's side.

In reality, Sam could have even clumsily tripped over his own two feet and onto Lucifer, and the Devil would have absently steadied him and let him go away. The show in front of them was that interesting.

Bobby, muttering about how now was the perfect time to get the job done, pulled him away, and towards the altar where they had to trap Lucifer. The church around it had become rubble in the first ten seconds after they'd arrived here. The blond who'd freed Sam had gone back to Lucifer's side, which in Sam's mind was probably suicide. Bobby was drawing the circle require for trapping Lucifer. The next fifteen seconds were a daze. All Sam's remembered was vaguely registering Nick's body crumpling down and maybe inhumane screams of rage coming from the altar. Honestly, he was more fascinated by what the cars were doing, in the way humans were naturally fascinated while watching train-wrecks. The Bentley was partially on top of the Impala, and there are noises that were far too suspect.

"Are they?" he asked no one in particular. Though, if he'd paid attention to his surroundings, he'd realise that it had emptied out about five seconds ago.

"Yeah," Bobby's voice replied gruffly. Oddly enough, he seemed completely unfazed by this whole thing.

"Won't they mess up their paint jobs if they continue doing that?" And really at any other point in time he'd hit himself on the head for asking that question above all questions. However, he'd been under Dean's influence for far too long, and it was the Apocalypse, and he was currently watching two cars fuck.

"I think so," the blond who freed him replied, coming to stand next to him, "But they don't seem to care about that, though."

Bobby shrugged, and clapped Sam on the back before heading off towards where Dean and Castiel were. Probably, to help Dean deal with what he was seeing.

Sam only then realised that the area around them was empty. No Lucifer, or Michael or demons or angels. Just them or Team Free Will as Dean called them. It took barely a second to register and sink in. Then Dean's voice broke his train of thought, before Sam could react to the epiphany.

"Dude your demon car is fucking my Impala!" Dean, who had regained his voice, composure and over-protective father like nature for his car, sounded outraged enough that he'd probably have ripped Michael a new one if the Archangel were to currently appear in front of him.

"Oh sod you Winchester! It's not my fault your car is a slut." Crowley yelled back, but he kept glaring at the Bentley. If looks could kill, both cars would've been in ashes right about then.

For a moment, Sam wondered if he was stuck in some odd dream. To be perfectly honest, he'd thought that the end of the not-Apocalypse would've been different. More gore, heartbreaks, human-entrails and sulphur covering him. Really, considering how it had started no one could have possibly faulted him on that.

The Bentley made a sound that would haunt Sam forever, and the Impala gave a whine, and – oh good lord was that engine oil?

"If my baby gets pregnant I will smash your car to pieces you Snake Bastard," Dean yelled.


Somewhere else in America, Chuck repeatedly kept banging his head on the table trying to erase the image from his mind.

A/N: Yes, I know, it's brain breaking crack.