The Story with Minnesota and the Possible Existence of Syrup Fairies
Title: The Story With Minnesota and the Possible Existence of Syrup Fairies Part 2
Rating: PG 13 for some dirty words
Characters: Dean, Sam, OC
Word Count: 11,300 (for total fic)
Summary: Sam and Dean investigate a case and revel in the delight of their brotherly relationship.
Disclaimer: I do not own these men or the concept of hot brothers fighting supernatural stuff.
The two of them slowly drove through the streets of the hilly town trying to find Ms. Collin’s house. All of the homes that lined the street had the same aged look to them, despite most of them being well kept up.
“So how are we gonna do this?” Dean asked while they sat at a light behind a large truck and in front of another even larger truck. He tapped steadily to the beat of ‘Bad to the Bone’ as the light finally turned green and he was allowed to move ahead at a steady speed of 15 miles per hour.
“Well we can’t just go in there all, ‘Hey so who do you know that really, really hates you a lot?’ ” Sam mentioned as he stared out the window.
“We can’t?” Dean asked quizzically.
Sam shifted his gaze over to his brother. “She might find it a little offensive Dean. It sort of implies that people might have good reason to hate her, which isn’t exactly flattering.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Dean admitted thoughtfully. “I remember this one time in Albany, there was this chick named Foxy, or Fawn or something, anyway we met up at this bar and started talking and I ask her one little question and she just flips out on me. Can you believe that?”
“Well, considering the fact that I know you…yes, I can absolutely believe that. And you probably deserved it. What did you ask her anyways?”
“It wasn’t even that bad! I swear,” Dean protested vehemently. “All I asked her was if she and her friend would be open to a little girl on girl action. And if maybe I could videotape it.”
“Okay that has like zero relevance to our actual case, not to mention the fact that it’s a little disturbing to me that no matter what the subject is you can always find a way to relate it to sex that you’ve had or almost had. Also, please tell me you’re joking and you didn’t actually say that.” Sam scrutinized Dean’s face trying to read him. Unfortunately, Dean was the master of the poker face. He had been since he was a fourth grader and had gotten his first girlfriend. (Whom he had then promptly broken up with for a girl in the fifth grade.)
“No, I seriously asked her that.” Dean looked vaguely confused as to why that was such an offensive thing to say.
“One of these days, you’re gonna get the shit slapped out of you and I am gonna laugh my ass off.”
“Ooh, better be careful Sammy. You don’t exactly have a lot of ass to spare there beanpole.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying, you’re kinda skinny. You don’t have much meat on your bones, so your ass is pretty much nonexistent. But don’t worry,” Dean comforted him, “I hear some girls really dig that undernourished adolescent look.”
Sam gaped at his brother. “Sometimes you’ll say something and I’ll think to myself, wow, that’s it, that’s the weirdest thing he’s ever said or ever will say. But then you start talking about how my ass looks, which obviously means that you’ve been checking it out, and you completely blow your old record away.”
“You done?”
Sam considered while his brother waited silently. “Yes, yes I am.”
“Good, then get the hell out of the car. We’ve got an interview to do.” Sam looked around and realized to his chagrin that Dean had stopped and parked at some point without him realizing it. They both exited the car unsuccessfully trying to avoid the piles of gray slush on the ground. Dean headed back to the trunk to do whatever the hell it was he did back there. Sam, however, stayed near the front and tried surreptitiously to look at his ass in the side mirror.
They walked up the cracked sidewalk and knocked on the old wooden door. The door opened and they were immediately greeted with the sound of swearing, very earsplitting swearing.
“Damnit! Hey there boys, what do you want?” The Latina woman who looked to be in her early forties requested after she finished her rant.
Sam stood uncomfortably out in the cold wind, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. “We’re looking for Jackie Collins.”
“Why?”
“I know her daughter,” Dean put in, “And she asked me to look into some legal trouble that her mom was having.”
“Oh, so you’re the private dick. Come on in then.” She moved out of the doorway and gestured them inside.
“Thanks,” Sam told her as they brushed past her. He couldn’t help but wonder at the smirk she had given Dean when she said ‘private dick.’ It made him slightly uncomfortable, like if he left the room he’d come back to find her with her tongue in his brother’s mouth. She took their coats and draped them over the stairway railing. “So can I get you boys anything to drink? Some Irish hot chocolate maybe or some Irish tea or Irish coffee?”
“I could really go for that Irish hot chocolate myself,” Dean mentioned, already warming up to the woman.
“Um, I’ll have cocoa too, but hold the Irish.”
“Okay,” Ms. Collins said giving Sam a funny look.
“Don’t mind Sam, that’s just the way he is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean,” Sam hissed as Ms. Collins meandered into the kitchen to make their drinks.
“Figure it out genius,” Dean replied with a snort.
Sam chose to ignore his brother’s statement. Sometimes he just didn’t understand Dean. He looked around the room and decided it was very cozy, the sort of place where anyone would feel at home. His eyes jerked over to his brother and he amended his statement to exclude Dean, as his brother was looking around the room with a combination of fear and repugnance. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable in the unfamiliar setting of an actual home instead of just a house. Sam moved over to look at a painting on the green and white striped walls just as Ms. Collins strolled back into the room with a tray full of drinks and some cookies.
Dean’s eyes immediately lit up at the sight of the baked goods. Though Sam had to admit they did look delicious and when he took one he was ecstatic to discover that they were incredibly soft and tasted of almond.
Sam and Dean settled onto a purple flowered couch, with Dean sitting gingerly on the edge. Ms. Collins sat across from them in a matching armchair. She didn’t waste time with preliminaries immediately questioning. “So what do you boys need to know?”
“It might help to know if anyone’s been acting strangely around you for the last few weeks,” Sam inquired politely.
“Not that I’ve noticed.”
“Can you think of anyone who might profit from defaming you?” Sam watched her as he took a sip of his hot chocolate and discovered there were miniature marshmallows in it much to his delight.
“Not really, it’s not like anyone’s after my job or anything, at least that I know of. I mean I’m not exactly high up on the totem pole, you know.” She set her now empty mug down and leaned back in her chair contemplatively. She looked over at Dean and smiled. “So there’s obviously something you want to ask me that your brother’s too polite to hit me with.”
Dean shrugged. “You got any mortal enemies, anyone that really hates your guts?”
“Well I wouldn’t exactly call them mortal enemies,” she answered him obviously amused by his phrasing. “It’s more like we have a mutual dislike of each other.”
“So who might these people be?” Sam inquired.
“Well, the pastor at Grace Lutheran Church for one.”
A laugh escaped Dean’s mouth. “You’re definitely my kinda lady. How’d you manage to piss of a holy man?”
“I accused him of misappropriating church funds.”
“Was he?”
“Oh yeah,” she answered Sam smugly. “He had to pay restitution and give a huge public apology to the congregation. It was probably pretty embarrassing for him.”
“Probably pretty embarrassing?” Dean repeated with amusement.
Sam noted that Dean was filled with glee at the thought of a corrupt church official getting his comeuppance. “So who else might be holding a grudge against you?”
“Well,” she replied slowly as she thought about it. “The pastor is probably your best bet, but I suppose Jason Harkman could be the one.”
Dean leaned forward and clasped his hands together giving her his undivided attention. Sam watched and wished that sometimes Dean would look at him like that, focused and ready to talk seriously without joking around.
“I found out he was taking bribes from students who wanted to get better grades.”
“I’m guessing you turned him in.”
“Hell yes,” she replies emphatically. “He’s an asshole. Kids are in school for a reason, it’s not helping them at all if they’re getting a free ride.”
“I completely agree with you Jackie.” Sam had always worked his ass off in school to get the grades he did. Whenever he heard about a student cheating through the rumor mill he immediately got pissed and if he found out who it was, he turned them in. Anonymously of course.
“So…” Dean was cut off as a black rooster shuffled into the living room and over to Jackie.
“Uh...” Dean and Sam both stared at it with confusion. “So, what’s up with the chicken?”
“Rooster,” Sam corrected him automatically.
“Oh, don’t mind Gus. He’s a house bird, more of a pet than livestock. He lives here inside the house with me instead of with the other chickens in the coop out back.”
“Why?” Dean asked in bewilderment.
“Well he’s actually pretty good company. Plus the little shit just refuses to leave the house, lucky for me he’d already been trained by someone to use a litterbox. I just found him in here one day sitting on the couch. I think he wandered in through my screen door. It was all busted up at the time. I had a small accident with my snowmobile trailer.”
“Didn’t anyone come looking for him? I mean he couldn’t have wandered that far away from his first owner, right?” Sam asked her.
“That’s what I figured too,” She shrugged, “but I went around the neighborhood and asked if anyone’d lost a rooster and I didn’t have any takers, so I just kept him.”
“Huh, weird,” Dean said as he grabbed a few more cookies off of the moose shaped tray on her coffee table and crammed then into his mouth.
“Like I said, he’s surprisingly good company and besides, I already have a rooster out back. If I put them together they’d probably peck each other to death.”
Dean scrunched his eyebrows together. “Well that’s all really interesting Jackie.”
“No it’s not,” she contradicted him.
“Yeah,” he admitted, “it’s really not.”
“You have like no social skills at all do you?” Sam asked his brother in exasperation.
“Not really, no.” Dean stood up and leaned across the table to shake Jackie’s hand. “Well it was a pleasure meeting you Jackie. You’re a woman after my own heart.”
Sam stood as well and shook her hand. “Thanks for the cocoa and cookies. They were really good.”
“Eh, no problem. I really didn’t want to eat them myself. They came from the batch that I dropped on the floor.”
“Seriously?” Sam asked.
“What do you think?” She smirked and somehow the two of them ended up out on the front stoop next to a closed door.
Sam sulked as they walked wordlessly down the street looking for a coffee shop or café with WiFi until eventually Dean cracked.
“Alright Sam, what the hell is the problem? The interview went good and we haven’t fallen on our asses again. So what could possibly be wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied sullenly.
“Seriously Sam, I’m not in the mood to deal with who knows how many days of you brooding and sulking and just being generally all emo. So just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it. Or, if you like I can pinch it out of you.”
“It’s just.” Sam sighed forlornly. “Do you really think my ass is scrawny?”
“Seriously?” Dean asked flatly. “This is about your ass?”
Sam looked over at him with a quivering chin and soft doe eyes from beneath his bangs.
“Seriously?” Dean whined. “Fine. No I don’t actually think your ass is scrawny. I’m sure it’s actually very lush and grabable.”
Sam sniffed theatrically.
“Jeez man what do you want, a cookie or something? Huh? Would that make Sammy feel all better?” He patted Sam’s shoulder condescendingly.
“Get offa me Dean.” Sam swatted his hand away and proceeded to somehow give his bitch face to his brother without actually looking at him. “I am well aware of the fact that you’re being facetious. But actually, yes, I would like a cookie you asshole, a soft one. And I want it to be peanut butter. Make it happen.”
The two of them sat in the Impala down the street from Grace Lutheran Church eating cookies and going over their game plan.
“Alright, so here’s what we’re gonna do.” Dean licked his lips and referred to the blueprints in his hand. “We wait a few minutes until it’s completely dark and then we slip in through this backdoor here,” he said jabbing his finger down. “It’s a mortise lock, so it shouldn’t be a problem. And from what I was able to find out they don’t have a night watchman or any sort of security system, so breaking in should be a breeze. Then we go down this back hallway here and through the rectory and from there we’re right by the door leading to the business office, which will also need to be, ah, assisted in opening. From there you do your magical hacking thingy to the pastor’s computer while I keep lookout and maybe steal some holy water. Sound good?”
“Yeah…or we could just go in through the front door right now like everyone else is doing.” Sam pointed further up the street where he could see a large crowd of people congregating around the wide open church doors.
“What the hell! It’s six o’clock on a fuckin’ Friday,” Dean hissed as he opened his door and slid out gracefully. “Why are there so many people here? Shouldn’t they be at a quilting bee or something?”
Sam followed his brother’s lead and unfolded himself out of the car as well. “I’m not sure those actually exist anymore Dean,” he informed him as they walked up to the church.
“Do I look like I give a fuck Sammy? All I care about is why they’re here now!”
“Well we’re having a potluck tonight,” a large hearty man in a flannel shirt told them after appearing out of seemingly nowhere. Sam noticed Dean was looking around hastily to make sure he hadn’t missed anyone else infringing on his personal safety zone. “You planning on joining us for dinner? Lots of great hotdishes this year.” Dean and Sam glanced at each other.
“Uh, hotdishes?” Dean questioned hesitantly.
“They’re like a casserole I think,” Sam explained uncertainly.
“Oh no, they’re a hell of a lot better than a casserole,” the stalwart man said with a smile and a wink. “Now I gotta say, I don’t think I’ve seen you boys around before. I’m Mark Markovich.”
“I’m Dean and this is Sam.”
“So where’re you boys from? You visiting family here in town or do you have a cabin?”
“The second one,” Sam declared swiftly, knowing there was no way they’d be able to pass themselves off as anyone’s family in a town this small where everyone knew everyone.
“Oh, which place do you own?”
“Uh, well we don’t actually own exactly,” Sam vacillated.
“Yeah, we’re actually in town to buy,” Dean cut in smoothly.
“Really,” Mark boomed out obviously as pleased as punch. “Which lake are you looking at?”
“The…one right outside of town,” Dean said jerking his thumb back in a direction that Sam really hoped boasted a lake.
“Oh, White Iron then. Good lake, good lake,” Mark replied nodding his head in approval. “Shorelines pretty rocky though, can’t alter it anymore either. If you boys want beach, you’re gonna have to buy a place where one’s already been made. What properties are you looking at?”
Dean’s eyes widened slightly as the man just kept talking and luckily Sam knew his brother well enough to realize that he was this close to making some smartass comment or just plain making a break for it and saying screw the rest. Which wasn’t really a surprise given Dean’s limited tolerance for polite and inane chatter, especially when it included questions directed at them.
“That new one that just went on the market,” Sam said crossing his fingers as he took over the conversation from their side.
“The Sorensen place or the Eklof place?” Mark questioned further.
“Sorensen,” Sam answered him wishing that Dean would calm down and get himself back under control. Sam just didn’t have the natural skill at weaving lies that his brother did.
“Great! That’s a real nice cabin, big lot. Lots of shoreline, and definitely a nice beach area. You know, there’s even a good solid boathouse grandfathered in.”
“Yeah, it’s a pretty sweet place,” Sam said agreeably.
“So will both you boys be moving in?”
“Oh heck yeah,” Dean broke in with a bucket load of false enthusiasm, having apparently suppressed his annoyance and decided to play along. “Me and Sammy here are damn near inseparable.”
“Well that’s just great. We don’t have too many gay couples, but I’m sure you’ll fit in like a cat at Christmas,” he hurriedly assured them.
“Oh no, no, we’re not-” Sam started to say.
“A cat at Christmas?” Dean repeated puzzled.
“Not a couple at all, we’re just brothers,” Sam told him firmly.
“Well,” Mark smiled indulgently, “however you want to play it boys.” He winked again. “Now why don’t you come on in. We don’t want them to run out of lefsa, now do we?”
“Lefsa?” Dean asked questioningly.
“What, you don’t know what lefsa is?” He looked more upset then they had thought possible given his natural exuberance. “Don’t you boys have any Scandinavian in you?”
“Well,” Dean thought for a minute, “I think we might be part Danish.”
“Danish? Well I’m sorry about that,” Mark consoled them as he strung his massive arms around their shoulders and led them through the mass of people to the doors. He shook his head dolefully and repeated, “Danish. But don’t worry; the lefsa will help cheer you up. And I heard there was even gonna be some old fashioned homemade lutefisk.”
“Lutefisk?” Dean mouthed silently trying to match the name to the food.
“Isn’t that some kind of fish?” Sam inquired.
“You bet,” he told them. “Fish soaked in lye. Real tasty.”
“Lye?” Dean mouthed apprehensively.
“Isn’t lye a poison?” Sam asked as they entered the church doors leaving only the echo of his alarmed voice in the air.
They entered a lobby that looked like it was still stuck in the eighties and were immediately greeted by a bustling elderly woman. “Hey there Mark.”
“Hi Bev,” he returned with affection.
“And who are these strapping young men?” She asked smiling warmly.
“I’m Dean and this is my kid brother Sammy,” Dean said.
“Sam.” Dean was immediately corrected by his brother.
“Well it’s nice to meet the both of you. Though I have to say, you don’t look too much alike for brothers,” she pointed out. Mark leaned over and whispered something in her ear. “Oh,” she said knowingly. “Right. Brothers,” she emphasized. “I gotcha boys.”
“Uh,” Sam started to correct her, but was abruptly cut off.
“So do you folks have these dinners a lot?” Dean inquired.
“Oh you betcha. At least once a month,” Bev told him.
“Well I have to admit, that’s a powerful incentive for us to join up,” Dean said earnestly.
“Oh I hope you boys do. It’d be nice to have some fresh faces around here on a regular basis, instead of just the one week tourists,” Bev told them with a smile.
“Are you planning on living here year round or just summers and weekends?” Mark asked.
“Oh year round definitely,” Dean told them. “We’re computer programmers, so we can do our jobs from just about anywhere.”
“Oh, computer programmers? Well we should hire you boys to take a gander at our computers here.”
“Yeah, we’ve been having all sorts of trouble with them lately,” Mark agreed.
Sam and Dean both gave each other a ‘there’s no way it can really be this easy’ look. “Sure,” Sam said quickly. “We’d be more than happy to take a look.”
“Free of charge, of course,” Dean told them sweetly.
“Oh no, we ought to pay you something.” Mark protested sincerely.
“Absolutely not.”
“Wouldn’t hear of it. Why don’t we just consider this fine dinner our payment?” Dean suggested.
“Well, if you’re sure.” Bev looked conflicted.
“Definitely, it’s not often two bachelors get to eat this well,” Sam said gesturing to the tables laden with food. And man was that ever the truth. His last four meals had consisted of Doritos, hot pockets and beef jerky. Which, although delicious, tended to get old after awhile. The food set out on the tables definitely looked like a viable and delicious alterative. He still wasn’t completely clear on what a hotdish was, but they sure as hell smelled mouth watering. To be frank, he was surprised Dean was still managing to restrain himself and hadn’t yet raced over to the food and gorged himself on it like a wolf. Sam could tell just by looking at him that his brother was waging an inner battle between the job and the food. And…it looked like the food was the winner and still undefeated champion. Sam looked at Mark and Bev and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that, he’s kind of a foodaholic.”
“That’s alright dear,” Bev assured him. “It’s good to see a young man with such a healthy appetite. The both of you are too skinny.” She looked at him with raised eyebrows and then back over at the food pointedly.
“So, I’ll just go get some then, shall I?”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Mark said as he gave Sam a hearty clap on the shoulder before wandering off.
“Come see me after you two are done eating and I can show you the computers. Take your time though and make sure you try the lefsa. Butter and sugar taste the best and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“Sure thing Bev,” Sam told her. He then ambled over to the table where Dean was still loading up his plate. Scratch that, his second plate. There was another one sitting on the buffet table in front of him already filled to the edges and Dean himself had a huge hunk of cornbread stuffed in his mouth. “Got enough food there Dean? You think you should maybe save some for everybody else?”
Dean shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something unintelligible.
Sam sighed and grabbed the cornbread out of his mouth gingerly. “What?”
“I said, it’s survival of the fittest Sammy. If these people are too lazy to come and fight me for the food, it’s their own fault if they starve to death.”
“You really worry me sometimes, you know that?”
Dean just grabbed his cornbread and crammed it back into his mouth before snatching a bottle of soda and sticking it in his armpit. He then grabbed both plates and headed over to one of the tables. Sam looked after him for a moment before shrugging and turning back to the table to fill up a plate of his own.
They eventually finished off their meal after going back for seconds and ambled over to find Bev. Unfortunately they found her in a large crowd of elderly women who then proceeded to demand to be introduced to the two handsome young men. It took about forty-five minutes of chatter and cheek pinching before they managed to get away and be led to the computers.
“So here they are boys,” Bev said gesturing to some machines that looked pretty aged. “You take all the time you need, we’ll all be here for a few hours yet. And if you need more time you can come back anytime you can while you’re still here. Just come on back to the main hall when you’re done.” She exited the room leaving Sam and Dean with unlimited access to not only the church computers, but the pastor’s office and personal computer as well.
“Seriously, it cannot be this easy,” Dean said in disbelief.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed looking around uneasily. “I keep waiting for something to go wrong.” They both stood there for a second just in case before heading into the pastor’s office. Dean immediately started rifling through his filing cabinets and the papers on his desk, while Sam took charge of his computer. He was amazed to find that the pastor had no password protection at all. But hey, easier for him, and it was kind of a nice change to be investigating something without having random objects thrown at him or being choked in some way. Not breathing wasn’t as fun as it sounded. Usually. Much to their dismay, they found nothing incriminating, although Sam did manage to fix the problem with the computers. So that was a plus.
Part 3
http://nilequeenpatty.livejournal.com/2463.html#cutid1