Title: This is How the Cool Punishments Go
Author: SCWLC
Rating: PG. I'd go lower, but better safe than sorry.
Summary: You take the car without permission, you suffer for it.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Please.
Notes: Okay, so you can all thank strangevisitor7 for this. I'd been reading Dude, Where's My Car? and got an ending I hadn't expected. Which led me to writing the ending I had been expecting. Anyway, long story short, she suggested that I rewrite and post to spawnfic, which I have duly done. I'm really not sure I'll be a presence here, simply because kids are not a thing I am good with writing. One other thing. If someone wants to take this as a starting point for a fic, please do so. I'm really not going anywhere with this, it exists in a vacuum. Seriously, I can hear the motor running.


The sound of cursing echoed through the neighbourhood.

"Dean?" Sam asked as he poked his head out his front door. "What's . . ." He trailed off as it became apparent what was going on. The 1967 Impala, parked in the driveway the night before, was missing, leaving only the 2009 edition black Impala ("You've gotta be kiddin' me Sam," Dean had said when he'd come home with it, declaring it to be the second car they now needed for hunting. "It's an abomination.") to be seen.

"It's gone, Sam," Dean said in fury. "And you wanna know why? Because your kid decided he needed it to pick up his date."

Sam blinked. "How do you know that?"

"He left a note," Dean groused.

"Are you pissed that he took the car or that he actually left you a note which means he chose to get caught?" Sam asked, not really wanting an answer. He still got one.

"Both. If you're gonna break the rules, you don't leave a big honkin' sign saying 'I'm breaking the rules'," Dean bitched.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Look. It's your car and Mark took it, so you can punish him however you like."

Dean frowned, then suddenly perked up. "Really? No whinin' from you about how it's a dumb punishment? No telling me I should be grounding them or whatever?"

"I didn't mean-"

Dean pouted. "Come on, no take-backs Sammy," he whined.

"He's my son, Dean. I can't pass off punishing him to you just because I'm tired of him telling me you're punishments would be cooler than mine."

The elder brother raised his eyebrows. "What?"

Sam shrugged. "Not much to it. Every time I ground him, Mark always claims that your punishments would be cooler than mine and that he wishes you were the one to do it."

"So let me," Dean said. "Maybe he'll get that punishments are supposed to be punishments if I whip his butt."

"Dean, no whipping of butts."

"Metaphor, dude."

A deep sigh escaped Sam's throat and he closed his eyes in a bid for patience. "Okay," he said. "Ground rules: No corporal punishments, nothing that will interfere with his soccer game later this week, Mark's their best scorer and his team's playing in the championships so it wouldn't be fair to them as well as him and nothing that will get me and Natasha called into anywhere for a parent-anything conference." He glared at his bother. "Got it?"

Dean just smirked. "Well then. Sit back and watch a genius at work." Sam sighed, but he'd come up with the idea and he was a little curious about what Dean would come up with. So, he plonked down on the porch steps to wait.

Dean stood by the curb for a few minutes with a devious smile on his face. When Mark pulled up, stepping sheepishly out of the car, the look had changed from deviltry to something positively angelic. If Mark had known Dean for as long as his father had, he would have been worried. As it was, he took the look to mean that Dean was close to okay with him borrowing the car.

"So what's the reason you just had to borrow my car?" Dean asked with admirable sangfroid.

"Hey, I know I should have asked, but you never would've said yes," Mark told his uncle with what was supposed to be a charmingly disarming smile. "And I'm pretty sure you would've done the same thing if you were in my shoes," he added.

Dean's face remained neutral as his nephew spoke. "You're right that I never would have given you permission, and you might even be right that I would've," he said. A slow smile crossed his face. "So what's this girl like?"

Mark grinned, now certain he'd dodged a bullet. "She's awesome, Uncle Dean. She's really hot, and she totally loved the car. I think it even turned her on a little, you know?"

Dean's smile transformed into a grin. A more perfect segue he'd never found. "Funny you should mention getting girls turned on, dude," he said. "See, thing is, when I get a chick in the back seat--"

Mark's eyes widened a little. He didn't exactly want to hear this. "Well, you know, I just--"

He didn't get another word out as Dean flung an arm over his shoulders and guided him into the car saying, "You just need to hear about all the right techniques with the ladies man," he said and steamrollered right over Mark's objections. "In fact, I'd better sit you down right here and make sure you have a solid grounding of what you're gettin' into when you borrow my car." He hopped in the car, started the engine and headed off down the road.

Out on the open highway Dean began to give Mark The Talk. Illustrated by Dean's multitudinous personal examples and experiences.

Not only did Mark have to suffer the indignity of having the facts of life explained to him, he was given a solid grounding in technique, style and practical advice on what to do to get a girl in the sack, and what to do with her when you got her there.

Mark had never felt so traumatised in his life. Dean may have been the cool uncle, but he was still an adult of a close to parental type. He never wanted to imagine his parents or anyone like a parent doing . . . stuff. It was so wrong. It was the worst punishment he could imagine, and his uncle just didn't stop. Half an hour into Dean's version of The Talk, Mark realised that his dad was not exaggerating when he talked about Uncle Dean's way with women. One hour in, Mark wanted to claw his ear drums out.

In the end, they were on the road for three hours before they got back to the house. Mark flung himself out of the car, and got as far away from his uncle as he could in the short term. The words following him through the door, "You know, if you borrow my car again without permission, I'll have to have another chat with you about things. I mean, the car is such a chick magnet, I gotta be sure you know what you're doin' when you take it."

Dean grinned in satisfaction as Sam approached him, eyebrows raised in curiosity as he got to his brother. "What did you do? I don't think I've ever seen Mark look so spooked."

The grin deepened. "Remember when you were fifteen and Dad got drunk that time in Thermopolis, Wisconsin?"

Sam frowned as he dug through his memory, then winced. "You mean the time Dad told us everything about his honeymoon with Mom and scarred us both for life while trying to give me The Talk?"

"Yep."

"Wh- Dean! What did you do?!"

A couple happy bounces on the balls of his feet punctuated Dean's reply. "Just spent a few hours, shootin' the breeze with my favourite nephew," he said. "Yep, just chatted about women and cars. And women in cars."

"Dean! You were supposed to punish him for taking your car! Not encourage him to have extramarital sex!" Sam flung his hands in the air in outrage.

"I'm pretty sure he feels punished," Dean told Sam with a sparkle in his eye. "I mean, he just had to listen to three hours of the great exploits of Dean the Magnificent." He smirked at his brother. "You could never take more than fifteen minutes of it, I had him on the highway with me for a couple hours."

Sam glared. "You know, I said you should punish him, not fulfill some sick fantasy of yours to scar my kid for life."

"He knows taking the car is wrong and he's suffered for it," Dean said. "And I didn't even have to do anything uncool like grounding. I am awesomeness itself." Sam squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that Dean had won this round, because grounding his son after three hours of Dean telling stories of his sexcapades was too much punishment enough for anyone. "And you said you would support whatever punishment I came up with," he added smugly.

Closing his eyes as he searched for patience, Sam knew he'd walked right into this, letting Dean be in charge of the punishment. "When he calls because he's gotten caught by some girl's parents with his pants down, I'm sending you to get him."