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Metropolis stinks.

Rachel's a bitch.

Jo's still doing her own thing. Jo's always doing her own thing. Dean shouldn't mind that so much.

He misses Sam.

However, there's always good food on the Cooper farm. So guess where Dean and the Impala are headed?

Wouldn't hurt to check up on that kid with the interest in demons, either.

(He left a message with the usual hunter's channels -- still in existence, even here where they don't use the term 'hunters' -- for Jo. Figures she'll tell Rach, the two of them so freakin' buddy-buddy.)

So -- eventually, somewhere between Metropolis and the Cooper farm's entrance gate -- there's a 67 Impala growling its way along the dirty roads, belting out Metallica.

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"I'm kinda worried about that myself," Dick says, frowning. "What do you mean, 'get rid of,' pal? If we find her body she's gettin' back in it."

Dean blinks, taking a step back and reaching into his jacket automatically.

"You're raising zombies? Rach said somethin' about -- What the hell makes you think that's a good idea?"

"Who's he calling a zombie?"

The general opinion of all Gothamites in the vicinity is that Dean's not a very nice guy.

"You'd better found my body before it dies, Dick. You hear me?"

Yes.

"Her body," Dick explains very carefully, "isn't dead. Someone stole it. You seem pretty au fait with this kind of thing, but please pay attention. Nobody. Is. Getting. Rid. Of. Jubes."

Dean blinks. For a minute, and then another.

"... she's not dead?"

Squid.

Jubilation golfclaps for the slow, tall (kinda hot) guy.

The EMF meter pulses slowly. Dean turns a sharp glare on it and points it at Jubilee.

"Shut it, you."

Dick tries (and fails) to hide an amused grin.

"No zombies. Sorry. Yeah, someone snatched her body and left her with his. Which wasn't, er, in the best shape."

The pulsing stops.

Jubilation shakes her head and sits back on the bike, folding her arms.

"Tell my story to everyone with a doctored Walkman, why don't you?"

"Hey, at least this guy actually believes you exist," Dick points out, rolling his eyes at thin air. "He might be our best chance yet."

"Assuming I'll help!"

"Yeah, well, he's not exactly Bill Murray, is he?"

The EMF peaks a little because Sparrow's waving at it dismissively.

"Total amateur outfit."

"Hey, I heard that." Dean glares at her. "You want me t'help, little ghost, you better act nicer."

A breeze blows quietly between the two men.

Jubes has her arms folded, and is sulking at the both of them, because frankly, it's not fair.

"You give me a body and I'll totally upgrade your equipment."

"Your body," Dean says, scowling. "Not just any body."

Dick blinks disbelievingly at Dean.

"... I don't think she wants anyone else's, buddy."

"He really doesn't like me, does he?"

In the distance, a bird sings. Presumably training has started again.

"Com'on, Wingman. He can't help."

Dean glares at them both.

Dick shakes his head -- and smirks. "All right. Let's head back to the farm -- I'm taking her there to ask Oracle and Dinah."

"The farm?" Dean sighs. "Hippie central. Least the food's good."

"Right, rub it in to the girl who can't eat."

Jubes sticks her tongue out at Dean, and leaps onto Dick's shoulders. It's easy when you're weightless.

"If there's something strange and it don't look good, we know who not to call."

And then they done sex.

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