Thread: The Road so Far: Supernatural Soulmates (Krystal x Madam Mim)

How can it be the same thing? We took care of that guy, Sam insisted from the passenger's seat as they rolled through downtown Keene. Think maybe somebody stole the spell? The closer to Keene they'd gotten, the more agitated Dean had become. Really he'd been agitated since he'd found the case, but Sam couldn't for the life of him figure out why. He'd probed several times, trying to read Dean as he mentioned the town, the police force, the case. All of it seemed to have his brother on edge and he visibly tensed as he clammed up whenever the topic of Keene or anyone in it was touched. Whatever was wrong about this town, Dean wasn't telling his brother. So... Sam glanced sideways as they strolled through the parking lot of the sheriff's station, who do you think we'll be getting this time? 'Stupid feds leave us alone we can handle it,' or 'thank God you're here'? It was an old bet they had, one Dean was usually good at unlike rock-paper-scissors. When they entered the receptionist was gone from the front desk, so they stood awkwardly in the lobby and waited. Any luck, Sheriff? Jude sat a box of Dunks on the table with the coffee and their hot plates. She had been the secretary, receptionist, and general gopher extraordinaire at the Keene PD for years now. Nope, nothing. Sheriff Parker's fingers were buried in his hair as he pored over the case files. There had been another murder last night and still they had no leads. Jude sighed sympathetically and put a hand on his shoulder. You'll get there. You are New Hampshire's finest, after all. And she meant it. Jude believed in the inherent goodness of mankind and the potential for greatness in everyone. With a gentle squeeze she got herself a cup of tea before returning to her desk. And there he was. Judith McKinnon would have been certain she was dreaming again, were she not in her workplace with a cup of tea steadily burning her fingertips. She'd had this dream many times, but it never took place in her office and was usually much more... interesting . Of course he wouldn't look the same as he did when he was sixteen, but it was definitely him. The wind had blown Dean Winchester into her life fifteen years ago and they had raged like a wildfire for what she still considered the best six months of her life. And then he had shattered her heart, leaving without so much as a goodbye. She'd written a lot of terrible poetry and cried an ocean of tears, but she'd forgiven him long ago. With a shaking hand she slowly set her tea onto her desk, staring through the reception window, not taking her eyes off of his lest he disappear again. The receptionist was draped in gauzy, billowy shawls and a flowing dress more fit for summer than for the drizzly, chilly spring morning. The forecast was calling for snow later in the week, after all. She stopped and stared, mouth slightly open, and Sam figured she'd probably never seen an FBI agent before they often didn't in small towns like this. He cleared his throat and flashed his badge. Morning, ma'am. Special Agent Hendricks, this is my partner Special Ag-- Dean? Sam stopped midsentence, eyes widening a little. You ah...you two know each other? She ignored him. Oh. My. God. Dean Winchester! With a jangling of bangles she slipped her shoes back on and hurried around to the side door. Hair flying, jewelry jangling, the smell of lavender and orange trailing after her, Jude came flying out after fumbling with shaking hands at the lock that separated the lobby from the station proper and barreled into Dean with an enormous hug. Sam tried really hard not to laugh. I ah, I see you've met, he all but snickered as the tiny slip of a woman hugged his brother tightly around the middle.