The rules were simple. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. You don't take a joint from a guy named Don. No dogs in the car. Oh and the newest one, no angels ride in the front.

The Impala was a spacious boat of a car with ample trunk space and seating, but seven people…..well, four angels….even more accurately three archangels, one seraph, and three vessels/hunters/humans was pushing comfort levels so Gabriel had the tendency to ride on the roof of the car. One, because he annoyed the hell out of everyone(and that was saying something considering Satan himself was riding in the back), and two, it kept him occupied.

That left poor Castiel to sit between Michael and Lucifer, playing the part of barrier. It was kinda like placing a mesh fence between colliding comets and was as about as effective at times, but someone had to as they had found out by trial and error. 'Stop Touching Me' had been taken to new volatile and bloody levels, the kind of which took angel mojo to get all the stains out of the upholstery.

"It's like frigging baby angel preschool back there." Dean grumbled to his abused Baby(she didn't deserve this crap) before sticking his head out the window to yell at the archangel riding on top. "And quit with all the damn kicking. I swear to G…"

"Dad doesn't give two shits about your crappy car. I have that on good authority." Gabriel smirked around his watermelon flavored sucker. "Hey, anyone wanna play 'I Spy'."

"NO!" Six voices, three of which threatening to shatter all the glass in a near five mile radius, answered in unison, leaving a very grumpy archangel to amuse himself by transporting bad drivers to odd places on the opposite side of the globe. The Winchesters had made him promise no dismemberment, but no one had said anything about displacement.

"Dean….." Sam leaned over Adam to whisper, who was riding bitch between them and ignoring them both while doing so, his nose deep in medical text. "Cas looks….."

Dean didn't know why Sam was bothering to whisper with all angels in the backseat. It was about as effective and deafening as whispering in church, a thought that made Dean snicker despite his ill humor. "What?" he said at full volume to receive a look of bitch in return. Adam sighed deeply, his lap still full of moose that was jostling his book. The youngest brother adapted by using Sam's broad back as a table.

"Ummm….." and bless Sam's heart for trying to be all tactful, the manner loving little goober. Dean felt a small swell of pride for doing something right raising him. It sure as hell wasn't from John or Bobby. Not to speak ill of the dead, but neither hunters would have known social diplomacy if it bit them in the ass or brought them a beer.

"I'm fine, Sam. Please do not concern yourself about my comfort or well being." Castiel said in his usual blunt manner of not beating around the bush. Dean fell a little bit more love with him. Anyone who took a machete to red tape was good in Dean's book.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Michael said, coming alive for the first time today. The archangel had the bad tendency of imitating a mannequin of celestial intent once he got into a seated position, even forgetting to keep up fake breathing. It was disconcerting as hell but at least he was quiet about it. Lucifer was in solid second for 'most annoying angel in the Impala'. Not only did he kick the back of Dean's seat, he hummed. A lot. Pop songs. Off key. It was a new personal low to hear the Devil hum Beyonce's 'Single Ladies', and that was saying something from a guy who had spent forty years in Hell being tortured.

"I was going to say that he looks kinda squished." Sam grumbled aloud in more normal tones, apparently deciding to take up residence in Adam's lap and drawing a keen glare of interest from Michael for choosing to do so. Adam pointedly ignored them both, elbowing Sam in the back of the head to keep still.

"Aren't we all." Adam muttered into the pages of his book. Dean rolled eyes cause it would frigging figure that he would have another nerdy little brother.

"You know we can steal another car or…" Dean started to be hit upside his head with a book. "Ow! Watch it with that!"

"You have to actually read it to have any real impact," Adam snarked. "And who's going to drive? I'm legally dead and the angels can't."

"I can." Gabriel grinned, popping his head in through a window. Dean made himself refrain from shooting him in the face. The archangel would probably just eat the bullets to spite him.

"NO!" Six voices in unison shut that little notion down.

"Losers." Gabriel pouting, returning to his own made up game of seeing how long drivers who didn't signal while changing lanes could drive while being changed into octopuses.

"Well Adam, that's what fake ID's and social security numbers are for." Dean patronized. "You're gonna have to lose that damn chip on your shoulder about being dead. Seriously, it's like a Winchester rite of passage at this point. Die bloody, pick up the 'get outta Hell free' card, ride the winged railroad out, collect emotional baggage and $200 dollars past go."

"I don't get the…" Michael and Lucifer started, their brows furrowing in confusion.

"Shut up, all of ya." Dean snapped, getting fed up with angel ignorance to all things pop culture. Watching the Earth in God's absence, his ass. A lot of angels had dozed off taking their turn at it.

"I get the reference." Castiel said quietly smug, looking very pleased with himself.

"How many times did you have to play Monopoly in the day room for that little gem to stick, Angel Interrupted?" Gabriel pointed out because he liked to stir the pot especially when making faces at people at high speeds got boring.

"Fuck off. He got better." Dean snarled. "At least he isn't some douche bag who missed out on the entire Apocalypse."

"On the account of being dead. Pretty solid hall pass for skipping out." Gabriel shot back, banging on the Impala's hood just to hear Dean's blood pressure rise in answer. Everyone very carefully did not look at Lucifer for an awkward moment.

"You seriously wanna cookie for that? Welcome to the club. Who here hasn't been dead at least once? We should have t-shirts made up or something." Dean griped to no one in particular. Well no one except Castiel. He could at least always count on him to pay attention to him, even if it was the creepy 'stare holes into the back of his head' kind of attention. Apparently, the 'urban cowgirl' of eye sex was making everyone else uncomfortable as well, to the point the two archangels on either side of Castiel were starting to give him concerned looks(Sam didn't count or even really notice. He had years of practice to build up this kind of tolerance.)

"That's it. I'm going to sit in the back." Adam sighed, wiggling out from under Sam who seemed to be setting up shop in his lap for some reason. It was a hell of a time to find out that Sam was a cuddle monkey, an overly big, heavy monkey of cuddly plaid goodness.

"Oh hell no. Rules of the car, short stop." Dean made to grab for the back of Adam's jacket to get almost kicked in the face for his efforts.

"Don't be bitter cause you can't sit with your angel." Sam muttered, giving Adam a helping hand by shoving him over the seat while Dean sputtered out nonsensical sounds of denial.

"And just where do you plan on sitting? Hate to break it to you but the ark is full." Dean pointed out after mentally regrouping, glancing in the side mirror to appraise the capacity of the back seat. "Cas, don't start. It's a saying."

"Michael." Adam settled in said seat of a very pleased looking archangel who allowed himself to be rearranged to make a more comfortable seat.

"Oh, that's safe." Dean snapped, telling himself that he was not jealous, not even a little. Not at all.

"Yeah, Dean. It is. He's only a fucking archangel so let's compare. Crappy manmade seatbelt of an ancient car or I dunno, the Sword of God. I don't know about you but I'm gonna go with Michael on this one." Adam pointed out before going back to his book with Michael resting his head in the crook of his neck, the archangel mentally checking out on them again. Dean didn't like to think about what Michael was actually doing when he was a blank slate but it wasn't messing with them so fuck it.

"And where are you going?" Dean asked but Sam was already climbing out the window of the moving vehicle.

"Roof." was Sam's parting word, his and Adam's space filled with a very relieved Castiel. A backward glance told Dean that the Devil was missing, which was never a good thing for anyone. He might have gotten his wings back while on parole from the Cage but old habits died hard. Lucifer still tended to smite first and ask questions later.

"He's on the roof as well. Sam is quite secure between them at the moment. I think you refer to it as being 'the meat in the sandwich'." Castiel informed Dean with air quotes, who really wished he hadn't. Brain bleach was a daily requirement for mental health now with all of them paired off with angels.

"Of course he is and of course, they are." Dean sighed, sticking his head out the window once more. "Hey jackasses, remember to turn invisible this time before you get all hot and heavy. I don't want to get pulled over again."

"C'mon, that was fun." Gabriel answered for the trio, peeking over the side. The other two on the roof were presumably too busy at the moment to answer as Dean noticed Sam's pants go flying off into the Impala's dust to hit the asphalt of the lonely road they were traveling on.

"You scarred that cop for life."

"He had it coming."