Please read A.N. It's not as long as it looks and it clarifies why this story is as it is.
A.N. Welcome to my new multi-chapter Supernatural story. This is a full case fic and I have intentionally not gone diving straight into action and high drama.
I wanted to treat this as a complete story, beginning right at the start with the events which, down the line, lead to a case for the boys.
I also wanted to focus on the characters and their interactions more than I usually do, as well as the processes the characters would possibly have to go through before setting off on the actual field work.
I don't intend to rush this (not by my standards anyway), I want to let it take as long as it takes to complete. Don't worry, that might mean weeks, but it certainly won't be months.
It might be selfish, but I think I'm writing this one as much for myself as anything, including designing the cover illustration.
That said, I hope that there are those of you who will join me in accompanying the boys on this journey, and I hope that we can chat along the way.
P.S. If anyone wants to offer to beta this for me, I'd love to hear from you!
OF WOMEN AND WITCHES or WHY DON'T PEOPLE EVER LEARN?
The women huddled around chatting to one another whilst, between them, two of their group carried a sizeable wicker hamper out of the house, setting it down on the lawn next to a long picnic table. The table itself was covered with a cheerily hand embroidered cloth and held a variety of sandwiches and home made cup cakes, along with half a dozen or so bottles of wine, plastic wine glasses at the ready.
The hamper carriers straightened and turned to face the other eleven women. One, a woman in her 50's who certainly fit the description "handsome", took a step forward and clapped her hands together, bringing to an end the chat.
"Thank you ladies...It's lovely to see you all tonight and I'm sure you will join me in showing your appreciation to Clare who has provided the refreshments for this month. Clare, you bad girl! You're absolutely about to ruin my diet you know!"
Clare smiled and bobbed a jokey little curtsy in response to the applause of her companions. The speaker waffed both hands to bring the group to order again.
"We also owe a huge thank you to Sandra."
As she spoke, the woman beckoned forward the second hamper carrier to come and stand beside her.
"As you know, our Sandra here has been hard at work since our last little gathering. Isn't that right Sandra?"
Sandra, a petit, shy looking woman in her 40's blushed and nodded.
"I'm delighted to announce that all her hard work has paid off and there is a robe for everyone in the hamper. One size fits all, right Sandra?"
"I'm hoping so Ruth."
Ruth gave a short laugh and laid a hand on Sandra's shoulder.
"Let's put our hands together for Sandra ladies."
The applause this time was accompanied by a couple of loud whistles.
"Right. As you all know, we've got an extremely exciting agenda this evening, so I'm declaring the refreshments open. Could each one of you collect your robe from Sandra and be ready to start the meeting proper in 20 minutes? Thank you ladies."
A smattering of applause greeted Ruth's announcement and the chatter started up again as the women began moving toward the buffet.
Barbara grinningly gave her friend a nudge with her elbow.
"I didn't know you could whistle like that Becky!"
Becky returned Barbara's grin.
"Oh...you know. It's just another one of my amazing talents. Did you see Ruth though? I'm thinking she's had a dose of the old Botox since last month. What do you reckon?"
Barbara glanced over her shoulder toward Ruth who was now stood with Sandra by the hamper handing out robes.
"She's definitely lost some of those stress lines. Course, that doesn't necessarily mean she's had Botox. Maybe she's secretly gone and found herself a younger man to, you know, de-stress with."
Becky's eyebrows motivated upwards and her mouth formed a small "o". She moved closer to her friend.
"Barbara Harlison! Have you heard something I haven't?"
Barbara shook her head as she burst into laughter.
"No...but you should've seen your face! It was priceless!"
Before Becky could answer, Ruth's voice carried over to the two women.
"Barbara? Becky dear? You're huddled together like naughty school girls. Come over here and get your robes darlings."
Barbara and Becky answered in unison,
Becky fought her way into her robe. She grimaced at the feel of the cheap quality satin, the static it created already playing havoc with her hair. She held out her arms and twirled around in front of Barbara.
"Well? What do you think? Should I wear this to the golf club's annual ball?"
Barbara stood back, a serious expression on her face as she studiously looked her friend up and down, finally she pronounced her opinion.
"I would say most definitely you should go ahead and wear it...if you want to be banned for life that is."
Becky stopped her posing and looked down at herself.
"I don't know about you, but somehow I expected them to be black, or scarlet, or even dark purple; but urine yellow? Soooo not my colour."
Barbara began to pull her own robe over her head as carefully as she was able.
"Pat told me that Sandra got a cheap deal on it, half the sale price for the job lot, 'cos no one else would buy it even at the sale price."
"I wonder why? Oh...I think we're about to get started, everybody's begun to form up. Shall we?"
"After you my dear."
Bobby phones with a job for the boys.
Sam looked across from where he lay to his brother's bed. Dean was still sound asleep, laid on his belly with one leg stuck out from under the duvet and dangling off the bed. Sam smiled, he loved to see Dean sleeping so peacefully, his rest undisturbed by the haunted nightmares or worries which so often plagued them both. Sam turned away and for a while he simply lay on his back, eyes closed, enjoying the luxury of a comfortable bed in a clean and pleasant motel suite with no pressure to rush to get somewhere, or to have to run to escape unwanted attention. Things between himself and Dean were good right now, they were both relaxed and were enjoying one another's company. There were no arguments, just brotherly teasing and a sense of being close to each other in a way that they had both missed. After a while, Sam roused himself, quietly climbing out of bed and pulling on sweatpants and a baggy tee. Scribbling a quick note to Dean, he let himself out of the apartment to go fetch breakfast for them both.
As the door closed softly behind Sam, Dean opened one eye and grinned. He rolled himself lazily over onto his back and stretched, cat like. As he lay he softly trailed the fingers of one hand down over his bare chest, carrying on to brush across his stomach and, finally, moving his hand down under the waistband of his jogging bottoms. He felt himself growing hard in response to his own touch, and he moaned quietly as he began to slowly and gently stroke himself.
Dean had not long since finished when Sam returned. Sam took one look at Dean's relaxed expression as he lay on his back in bed, hands behind his head, his pupils still large, his smile soft, and he grinned.
"Do you need me to go out again and come back later?"
Dean's smile grew wider.
"Is that just your own opinion?"
"Hell no! There's a trail of ladies who'd confirm it for you. You fetched breakfast?"
"Yeah, but you can go wash your hands before you eat."
Dean gave Sam a mischievous wink.
"Sure you don't wanna come over here and lick them clean for me?"
Sam shook his head in complete disbelief, at the same time screwing up the paper bag that had contained their breakfast and throwing it, bouncing it off Dean's forehead.
"You are a total deviant...you know that?"
Dean laughed out loud at his younger brother's horror and began to get out of bed.
"I know, but you gotta admit, I'm lovable with it!"
Sam pointed a finger in the direction of the bathroom.
"Go...get cleaned up you pervert, before I hurl over your breakfast!"
Dean was still laughing to himself as he disappeared into the bathroom.
By the time he emerged, showered and dressed, Sam had the table laid. The coffee maker was chugging happily, filling the kitchen diner with it's slightly spiced aroma, toast was buttered and the breakfast was plated and keeping warm in the small counter top oven. Dean stood, eyes closed, breathing in deeply through his nose, sucking up the smell of fresh coffee and bacon; Right now, right at this moment, I could die a very happy man. Opening his eyes, he noticed that Sam had his cell held to his ear. Knowing Sam would fill him in if it was anything important, Dean headed to retrieve their breakfasts from the oven, madly blowing onto his fingers as he quickly carried the two very warm plates across to the table. As he put Sam's plate down in front of his brother he mouthed "Who is it?". Sam mouthed back, "Bobby".
"Ok.,.,.,.got that. You going to text the address through?.,.,.,.,.,.Yeah. We can be there by this afternoon. Did these women have any clue what they were getting into?.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.Great! What was your friend's name again?...Barbara, right. What I don't get Bobby, is why people think they can play with this kinda shit and not suffer any consequences.,.,.Fine.,.,.,.And you're sure it's a witch?,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.Crap Bobby! You're kidding me! Is that likely?"
Dean, who had already curled his lip in distaste when he heard the word witch, now stopped eating, giving his full attention to Sam's side of the conversation.
"Yeah but, it can call itself anything it wants to, doesn't mean it's true.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.You know us Bobby, when do Dean and I ever take unnecessary risks?.,.,.Well, ok, but that's just Dean.,.,.,.,.Don't worry Bobby, we'll be careful. If it is her possessing this Ruth woman! Well, we're potentially gonna be faced with a whole new level of nasty."
By this point in Sam's conversation, Dean was madly miming at Sam to put the phone onto speaker, and acting out what he would do to his brother if Sam didn't. Sam waved a hand at Dean, wanting his brother to back off and wait. Dean began to mime throttling Sam.
"Bobby? I'm gonna fill Dean in before he pisses his pants. I'll call you when we've set off. Bye."
"Sam! I swear sometimes you make me wanna kick your ass into next week! What was that all about? What the hell has Bobby got us lined up for?"
"You sure you want to know?"
Recognising that he was in imminent danger of having Dean's breakfast thrown at him, Sam conceded.
"Ok, ok. Bobby's had a call out of the blue from the wife of a guy he helped out a few years ago. The guy's dead now, but he and Bobby kept in touch up until the guy died of an everyday heart attack around 18 months ago. At the time Bobby helped him, the guy was an assistant D.A. This guy's wife, Barbara, was lead to believe that Bobby was a Psychic who had been brought in to help out with a case..."
"So, now her husband's spirit's possessed some witchy bod and she wants rid of it?"
"No. If I can finish? Seems she and some friends have been getting together and playing at being white witches. Only instead of mixing up the usual love potions and stuff, a couple of months ago they had a go at a summoning. At first they thought nothing had happened and they all went home thinking it had been a bit of fun. Now though, this Barbara thinks the group leader, a woman called Ruth, was, and still is, possessed by the spirit of a witch."
"Great. It had to be a witch didn't it?"
"Oh, it's even better than that Dean. The spirit? From what he's been told, Bobby thinks it could be Hecate."
Dean froze in the middle of reaching for a piece of toast and stared at his brother.
"Please...tell me you're shittin' me!"
"Hey, I'm just telling you what Bobby's told me."
"Sonova...Does he really believe that?"
"He thinks we should work on the basis it is Hecate, but keep seriously hoping that it's not."
Dean sat back, toast forgotten.
"Chrissake Sam...Hecate! The Queen Bitch Witch herself!"
"I know. And let's not forget her other hobbies. Goddess of Hades, Ruler of the Crossroads and so on."
"Oh...now that's just not fair!"
"See? Now I can't decide whether to really enjoy this breakfast as if it's my last meal; or whether I can't eat it 'cos I've just lost my freakin' appetite!"Sam looked down at his own plate of food.
"I know exactly what you mean dude."
Dean eventually came down on the side of enjoying his breakfast, purely on the basis that wasting food is evil, especially given that his sausages had been made in Heaven, or so he proclaimed. Meal over, Sam stood up with his coffee,
"Well. I fetched it and prepped it, so I guess that means you're washing up while I go sort us a route out...Actually, you know Dean, there could be an up side to this job."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Proper home cooked meals."
"Ah...didn't I mention? We're going to be staying with this Barbara woman while we work the case."
Dean stopped in the midst of gathering the breakfast plates up.
"What? No Sam...You didn't mention that tiny part of the whole deal! What happens if I wanna go out? You know...socialising? Crap Sam. This's going to be totally awkward! I swear, if I have to sleep under chintz blankets and make polite conversation while I sip on my one glass of Cava 'cos that's all she's got...You an' Bobby better go into hiding for a few centuries! Why can't we find a crappy motel like always? No way are we going to keep off Hecate's radar if we're staying with one of her coven!"
Sam shrugged at Dean's dismay.
"She offered, Bobby accepted. Done deal man."