Title: The Like, ONE Person Team Free Will Actually Helped Last Year: The Incredible True Genealogy of Castiel's Pimpmobile
Genre: het, humor, outsider POV
Pairing: Castiel's Pimpmobile's True Owner/Castiel's Pimpmobile's True Owner's Girlfriend
Characters: Castiel's Pimpmobile's True Owner; his girlfriend, Julia; a disgruntled colleague; and a Gas N' Sip!Castiel cameo
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: 1327
Summary: Luis can't believe he just had his car ripped off by the Gas N' Sip whiteboy who sold him breakfast. He was standing right there! Who even does that? It just ain't proper human behavior.
Notes: Written for this prompt at spn_bigpretzel's Outsider POV Comment!Meme #3.
He sees him drive off. He actually watches the guy drive off in the Guapomobile. He's leaves the keys in the ignition because he's at Ger's and he always leaves the key in the ignition, and he's just picking up his suit and it's just him and the guy from the Gas N' Sip across the street where he bought his doughnut and like, it's 5 in the AM and he's on his own turf for one and two you don't steal a car from a guy who's clearly packing, and clearly rolling with Los Lobos, and clearly about to bust a cap on your ass, and clearly five feet from the fucken car you're fucken stealing. It just ain't right.
"I mean, who the fuck gets their car stolen when they're standing at the fucken trunk, you know?" Luis tells Ger when Ger asks why the fuck he's banging on the door for the second fucking time.
"A dumbass," says Ger, without unlocking the screen door.
"It just--" Because Luis does feel like a dumbass. "Man, it ain't proper human behavior! So can I get a ride or not? Julia's gonna whup my ass if I'm late."
"Seein' your ugly mug at 5 in the morning ain't proper human behavior," says Ger. "Julia got a lifetime to whup your ass, so better get used to it bro. Bus starts running in fifteen; and yo, you want the 147B, not A. Never A."
"Ger, bro, c'mon--"
"NEVER A," Ger intones tenebrously. And Ger slams the door, cuts the porch light.
Luis wanders to the curb and gets on 147A. Fuck Ger. Fuck Gas N' Sip. If he didn't already have a date with city hall he totally woulda taken it out of the guy's ass. He totally would've.
Fuck 147A. It's 9:45 before he makes it the three miles back to Julia's, and she's noticed. She's got a Bible-length treatise streaming out of her mouth in the time it took 147A to drive a city block. "Ay, lucha, what's the matter with you? Where's your suit? We gots to be at city hall in like half an hour. Come on!"
Pale-faced, Luis explains in as much detail as he can get in edgewise: "She's gone."
Julia looks stricken. "Does this mean Ger's not coming?"
"What? No, why? Wait, was Ger coming? How's Ger coming if I'm gonna be wearing his suit?"
Julia leans against the house, though she flinches away from it when she remembers the paint flecks, dried and peeling from the wood and getting all over fucking everything. "How'd it happen?" she asks.
"I was standing right there," Luis foregrounds.
"Oh, baby," says Julia.
"And then this whiteboy just walks up and gets in, like it's his damn car! Just like that he's gone! And me standing right there!"
"Baby." Julia's eyes narrow. "Something tells me you ain't talkin' about Tia Celia's stomach cancer."
"What? No! Fuck no, why the hell--- Okay but I WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE."
Having recovered from the threat of obscure tragedy (seriously, Luis thinks, what the hell?), Julia takes off running again. The warm up: "Baby, you a dumbass, that's why. Now put your suit on cuz we the first appointment, and I ain't waiting in no goddamn line."
"My suit was in the car," says Luis, still shocked toneless. He can't believe he just had his car ripped off by the Gas N' Sip whiteboy who sold him breakfast. He can't believe she's actually gone. She had hydraulics, man. And he'd just repainted her. And she had that sweet-ass 70s body fuck.
"My suit was in the car, Hoo hoo," Luis repeats, because he's in mourning and his girlfriend won't shut the fuck up. She hears him this time, though, and for an uneven moment Julia goes very quiet.
Julia takes a deep breath.
Julia takes this in stride. Of course, stride is a relative term and in this case stride means Julia pacing the driveway in her baby cousin's stiletto heels from prom. Still, Julia's a sprinter, and she doesn't give a shit about the Guapomobile: "Oh my god, this is all fucked up you're not even s'posed to see me in my dress and I don't even have my face on and I just found out Mami bought that cheap-ass champagne for the reception, you know like the bubbly water one? I spent the last three hours tryna get curlers out of JJ's hair like, don't say you wanna be mommy's flower girl if you just gonna fuck up your hair, right?"
"You didn't actually tell her that?"
"She was cryin' about the hair already, she wasn't listening!"
Luis thinks about JJ sitting in the backseat of the Guapomobile. They didn't have a car seat or nothing so they had to be careful, but they were gonna get one. He was gonna raise his family in that car.
"Hang on, I'll get Cindy to come pick us up. She's got the cake in the back from Tia Marina's but that's all good, right? You been doing that thirty day slim down thing? I ain't never wanted to drive up to city hall in that gold teeth muthafucka anyways. What you think, like it's some kind of Vin Diesel or Dukes of Hazzard shit? New coat of gold-ass paint don't fix the transmission, baby. Stupid cholo who sprung it probably gonna blow up, anyway."
Gold teeth muthafucka his ass. "That car was an heirloom." That car was the most important thing in the whole damn world. Maybe she didn't look it, but she was heaven-sent, and she was family, she--
Julia sighs. "First of all, that prima Maria ballerina ho your cousin, not your gramma. Second, bitch is a fucken tweaker, and three, buying it back from a police auction don't make it an "heirloom." Maria woulda actually have to have given it to you for that, and then your ass woulda been in jail 'stead of hers! What's the big deal about heirloom, anyway y'know? Like, old shit pretending like it's all important. What that make Paolo then, you know? Like, my heirloom ex? And what about them tomatoes, huh? 'Yo these tomatoes old as shit'?"
Then Julia puts her arms around his neck. She's taller than him in her heels, taller even than she usually is, and suddenly all Luis can think about is how ridiculous this is gonna look in the wedding pictures. And he don't even got a suit for the pictures no more.
Then Julia's crying.
"Lucha, we're gonna be different, right?"
Luis squeezes Julia's waist and blows her hair out of his face. Her tummy's tucked into her bodice and isn't as accessibly sexy as usual, but he makes it work. He squishes. "We're gonna be different."
Luis has said this many times before. Julia's said it as many times. They haven't been yet--different, that is. That's why the marriage. That's why the honeymoon. That's why getting out of this fucken armpit of a city, taking JJ and driving the Guapomobile out somewhere fine and ritzy.
And ending up in a different armpit of a fucken city, headed toward a meet up with another one of Maria's stupid stupid fucking methhead friends, because JJ needs a Lunchable and Julia's OB said she needs supplements and he's still paying his last hospital bill from that fucken factory job and the Guapomobile's running on fumes again.
The Guapomobile's running on fumes again.
Man, he'd just filled her up. That fucken Gas N' Sip guy. Fuck him, and fuck the Guapomobile, fuck all of that tired-ass bullshit. They didn't need a car to keep them on that road they're on. They're getting out.
"We're getting out, angel," Luis says into Julia's hair. They don't got any more work to do now; they have a wedding to have.
They have a life to live.
Julia is borrowed from the rough draft of a fic I wrote where Meg possesses her body and picks up Lisa. She didn't get to talk in that one, because she was possessed, so she gets to talk now. And I'm pretty sure she dies in that one, so in this one she gets to live. \O/