if you're gone hell baby you need to come home [sam]

[eitherwilldo]

Hopefully Sam has a pinpoint, because what's that he's being texted by Cissa? That would be pinpoint coordinates, yes.

He'll find the diminutive blonde on a park bench with a picnic basket, throwing a stick for the puppy (her name is Medea and she's just what Cissa needed, you know, while in the middle of trying to relocate -- thanks Dante) and

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[so_not_harker]

Sam does have a PINpoint, as a matter of fact. When he gets the text, he frowns for a moment before leaving a message for Dean. Then he inputs the coordinates.

He's maybe a little overdressed for the park, meaning wearing a couple of layers. Still, he smiles and raises an arm when he sees Cissa, trotting over to see her. "Hey, Cissa. Wasn't expecting to hear from you."

[eitherwilldo]

"I expect you weren't," she says, and it'd be difficult to read her expression for just about anyone. She smiles, though, and stands up with her basket. "Come and sit with me. I have sandwiches." And lemon meringue pie and a bottle of wine and fruit and cheeses and really, Cissa doesn't do things by halves. "I thought we ought to speak."

Well, that bodes well.

[so_not_harker]

Well, he wasn't expecting to hear from her because she's Dean's...whatever. He's not even sure what they're calling it this week.

Sam's a little bit wary, but...well, he's a Winchester. Which means that food is always welcome. "All right," he says, walking over to her side. "Where to, then?"

[eitherwilldo]

She leads him out of earshot of the other park goers, to a shady tree where no one is likely to bother them. Humming something, she sets up the picnic blanket and unloads the basket, kneeling on the fabric.

"Dean came to see me some days ago," she says, conversationally. "At my house." Which, Sam may be aware, is entirely a first for them.