| Date: 5 January 2008
Characters: Sally Sparrow, Dean Winchester Location: hotel hallways, hotel dining room Link to IJ: thread #25156 |
 She hurried past the stairs, grabbing the handle of a door, and slipped through it. A sudden brightness made her blink (and then wince and inwardly reprimand herself for doing so), as she stepped into what looked like a corridor. It was completely empty. She turned back toward the door warily, and stopped, astonished. There was just blank, damp wall where the door had been a moment ago. She turned back, staring at the room, which looked like a large cellar, comprehension dawning over her and making her groan and slump against the wall, sinking lower. One of the angels must have sent her back into the past, because she clearly wasn't where she'd been before.
The angels still had the phone box, and Larry couldn't help if she had the key. The angels might send him back too, maybe here or maybe not, given that Cathy was in 1920 and the Doctor was in 1969. Maybe she or the Doctor would live long enough to do something about it all, and maybe she could get a message to him or someone, anyone who could help. Either way, now that she was... wherever and whenever she was, she'd better start finding out where and when it was and work out what to do next. She stood up, brushing her hair back from her face, and started to walk along the corridor. There were breeze blocks and fluorescent lighting, so it couldn't be that far back. As she walked further, she made out a flight of stairs and hastened toward them. They brought her into a plain-looking stairway, and she continued to climb until she reached a door leading off it and opened that. She was in a hallway, carpeted and with several doors leading off it. The few furnishings she could see didn't look particularly old-fashioned. That combined with everything else she'd seen since arriving made her think she couldn't have travelled back far. She wasn't sure whether that was good or bad, but it probably gave her a fighting chance, so long as she didn't talk to the wrong person and blow up the universe or something. Further up the corridor she glimpsed movement, and she stopped and cautiously backed against the wall, pausing to consider what to do. She'd never find out where and when she was if she didn't look, and whoever it was might be able to help, assuming she didn't say anything mad like 'Hello, I've just been sent here from the future by a statue that was really an alien, what year is this?'. She called out, grateful that her voice sounded relatively steady, "Hello? Excuse me. I seem to be lost. Can you help me?" |
 Well. Helloooo, pretty lady.
Dean stopped looking over his shoulder, and turned around, a wide grin on his face. "Pretty sure I'm gonna be able to manage that one. You just tell me what you need, sweetheart." |
| Er...
Sally paused for a moment, contemplating how not to sound clinically insane whilst trying to find out something useful. Though the stranger's manner of greeting made her suspect he might not notice all that much. What did she need that wouldn't arouse too much suspicion? "I was wondering, is there somewhere nearby where I could get a newspaper?" |
| "I, uh...don't think there's anywhere to print them." Though, in his experience, that kind of logic didn't always stop things existing. Cause and effect were tricky little shits.
"Looking for the crossword?" |
| Ok, that was weird. Nowhere to print them? What era looked this modern and didn't have newspapers? News was almost as inevitable as death and taxes. Where could she be that wouldn't have newspapers?
"Well, more the actual news really. Though crosswords are good if it works for you." She paused, wondering what to do next now her clever idea seemed completely useless. "So, no crosswords and no news then? Pity. I had such an exciting few hours planned. Newspaper, coffee, comfortable chair, you know. I'm quite at a loss now." She took a deep breath, conscious that she was rambling a little. "I'm Sally, by the way. Sally Sparrow." |
| "Good to meet you, Sally Sparrow." Dean fetched out his most sincere smile, and held his hand out. "Dean Winchester, and I think we can manage two out of three."
Hell, if he couldn't track down a comfortable chair and coffee in this place, he wasn't worth the space he was standing in, and besides, instinct had kicked in. Never, ever leave a pretty girl looking lost on her own. Bad shit happened. Sometimes to the girl. |
| "Nice to meet you too," she replied, taking his hand and shaking warmly but briefly.
Now that she was feeling a little less flustered and a lot more curious, she took in more of his appearance, trying to decide whether he was the sort of person she should wander off with in a strange place. Then she reasoned that if he was taking her in the direction of coffee that probably meant other people around, and they were currently the only two people standing in an otherwise deserted corridor. Coffee was safe. She smiled tentatively at him. "Two out of three sounds good." |
| Rather than letting go of her hand, Dean tucked it over his arm and patted it. His daddy had drummed manners into him about escorting women, not to mention if she was some kind of demon, getting one of her hands out of action was a pretty good idea. "Well, okay then."
He let the smile widen into a grin, met her gaze for a practised second too long, and turned in the direction of the restaurant he'd passed earlier. "Don't suppose you've seen a guy wandering around, taller than me, shaggy dark hair, kind of goofy looking?" |
| "Sorry, no. Actually you're the first person I've seen here." |
| Dean nodded, rueful grin curving his lips. "Fair enough, thanks."
Always worth asking. "I kinda lost him. Again." |
| Sally found herself warming a little to his dispirited expression.
"I think I lost someone too today." More than one person, if she thought about it. It hadn't really hit her yet, she knew that, and now was probably not a good time to let it. "You lost him again? He makes a habit of being lost then?" she paused and hopefully added "That implies he makes a habit of coming back again." |
| "You think?" Dean queried, eyebrow arching. Losing people was generally a case of losing or not losing, not much think about it. "And yeah, Sammy ain't too good at not wandering off. My brother," he added, to clarify, as the lobby came into view. "Sammy's my brother."
Was his brother. Shit, still is, someplace out there. |
| "It was... complicated. Confusing."
It was also really hard to say it in a final sort of way that meant she'd have to feel it too. She was determined to find out where and when she was and come up with some sort of a plan before that was allowed to happen. "Anyway, you have a missing brother. I'll gladly help you look for him or ask around if you like, but I won't mind if as soon as you've pointed me in the direction of coffee you want to go off and find him by yourself." |
| "Oh, I'm not gonna desert a beautiful woman," Dean protested, with a wide, open smile. If he'd seriously thought he'd got any chance of finding Sam, he'd have deserted her in a moment, but as it was..."I'm pretty sure he's not here. Got left behind when I was...whatever the hell happened to bring me here."
Yeah, he'd got enough manners not to call the place Bumfuck to a lady. |
| Sally smiled at him. "Nobody told you never to judge a book by its cover, did they?"
Then she digested the rest of his words, an odd feeling starting in the pit of her stomach. He didn't know how he'd got here, and Sally was beginning to think that perhaps she did. "Bring you here? Where were you before?" |
| "Little ass end of nowhere place called Cold Oaks." Dean ignored the comment about judging books by covers. He'd dealt with demons who looked a hell of a lot sexier and sweeter than Sally Sparrow. Not that she wasn't a sweet piece, with that little smile. Million times as sweet as that damned crossroads demon, and not a hint of cold to her eyes.
Least, not yet. |
| "And you mentioned you're not sure how you got here? Do you remember anything at all odd happening before you did?"
She left the 'there didn't happen to be a stone statue near you at all' unsaid for the moment. |
| Pausing, Dean thought, opened his mouth, thought again, and stopped. Odd, huh? Well, that was pretty much everything that had happened. "Sweetheart, odd is pretty much my life," he replied wryly. "Restaurant's right this way." |
| Sally supposed that it depended on how you defined 'odd', but thought her life had been pretty much normal until the last day or so.
"Good odd or bad odd?" |
| "All kinds of freaky shit." Whether good or bad was pretty hard to define. "Most of it not fun for ordinary folk, but it's okay." He flashed a reassuring smile. "Me and Sammy, we take care of it." |
| That could include a whole lot of things, possibly angel-shaped or possibly not, though Sally wasn't sure being sent back into the past would be okay by anyone, unless they could time travel and had their time machine with them. The fact that nothing was yet making sense was starting to worry her, but she didn't seem to be in any immediate danger and maybe she just wasn't asking the right questions yet.
"How long have you been here? Have you found out much about this place? I take it you're not 'ordinary folk' then? Military?" |
| "Couple of days," Dean commented off-handedly, letting go of her hand to open the restaurant door for her. "Most I've found it that the folk here aren't from here, every one of them I've met or heard of has been brought in."
Which made his spine crawl, way too familiar from what happened to Sammy, and he wasn't going to stop looking over his shoulder for demons any time soon. |
| "What do you mean, nobody here is from here?"
Sally was getting more confused by the second, or rather by the answer to her questions, and was starting to wonder if questions were a good idea. Then again, she had just asked rather a lot of them at once. "Sorry, confused, really confused. Slightly worried that the world's going to end because of things that happened today. Possibly just need to sit down for a few moments, so lucky we're here really. And babbling. Way too much. I'll stop now," she finished, looking around the room and hoping not to see anything else strange just yet. |
| "Whoa, whoa. Okay, there." Dean stopped, warmth filling his voice, and turned to rest both hands on Sally's shoulders. "Whatever's going on with the world, Sally, you can't help it right now, you're gonna be okay."
Shit, should have remembered how much that kind of stuff came as a shock to ordinary people. He'd spent too much time with Jo, obviously. "Just...let's get you sitting down, right? Not gonna fall over on me?" |
| Feeling slightly embarrassed at the momentary descent into panic, Sally took a deep breath.
"No, I think I can make it to a chair easily enough. And confusing and weird is fine, when I have a moment to get used to it." |
| "Okay." Dean wrapped his arm around her shoulders anyway, at least partly to make good on that not falling over thing, steering her over to a chair. "Okay, you just sit there, breathe deep, and I'm gonna be right back."
He paused two steps away, looked back, and winked at her. "With coffee." |
| Sitting down at last, Sally managed a smile.
"And they say chivalry is dead." She chanced a more thorough look around the restaurant. There were a few people, some sitting alone and others deep in conversation, but it was mostly empty. It would almost have been better if the chairs rested on the walls instead of the floor, or all the tables were shaped like elephants. This ordinary appearance of everything, when the place was very obviously not ordinary, was a little disconcerting. Nevertheless, it did seem to lack murderous statues as a decorative feature, and she was quite possibly safe for the moment. |
| Chivalry was dead, Dean was certain of that. He'd lit the match to the rotting bones about a month before while Sam intoned the rites over the burning corpse.
Fucking good job, too. Didn't mean that he didn't know good manners, though, and when he returned it wasn't just with coffee, but a tray containing a plate of sweet muffins as well. "Figured you might not have caught breakfast yet," he offered, setting the tray on the table and settling into the next chair. "Don't worry, there's no Persephone stuff going on." |
| "Pomegranate seeds in muffins would probably work," Sally replied, taking a muffin, which tasted fine and not at all like pomegranate. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. Possibly breakfast the previous day. She settled comfortably back into the chair and sipped coffee.
"You mentioned you'd been here a couple of days. Have you had much time to look around?" |
| Raising an eyebrow, Dean nodded in acknowledgment. "You know your legends." And with luck, she'd never have to know that they were any more than that.
The restaurant stayed the same, anyway. Did a pretty decent cheeseburger, but all he wanted right then was a muffin. Oh, and coffee. Fat, sugar and caffeine, the three basic food groups. "Ever been to Disneyland, Sally?" |
| "Myths and legends fascinate me. I've always thought they say more about the people who thought of them than any history book could," she replied. "History's painted the way the artist wants it, and of course the artist was hardly ever there. People reveal far more of themselves than they know when they're hiding behind fiction, and if it doesn't all have some root in truth it must have come from somewhere."
She took another bite of muffin. "Disneyland? I always mix up Disneyland and Disney World. Which is the one in Florida? I've been there, but that was a long time ago." |
| People, what the hell, didn't matter, every damn myth or legend Dean had come across and a few more he was believing as reality until they proved otherwise. Hadn't happened yet.
"Doesn't matter which, point is." He gestured with a piece of blueberry muffin, and then tossed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Not bad. "Point is, people go there. Some of them aren't sure why, but people go there, they stay a while. People work there. No one lives there. That's kinda how this place is." |
| That feeling of every answer deepening the confusion she felt wasn't going away yet, but she was starting to feel more than slightly intrigued, and suspicious of her conclusion that the angels had sent her here.
"If people stay for a while... does that mean they can leave and go back to where they were?" Not that she was sure she wanted to go back to a place where she'd utterly failed to stop the end of the world. It'd just be good to know. |
| "Seems like." Some people, anyway, Dean hadn't tracked down a way home yet or he'd be right the fuck out of there and back with Sam. Working out what the hell had happened in Cold Oaks. |
| Suddenly Sally could hear and feel blood pounding in her ears. What if it wasn't too late?
"I don't suppose you know how to leave?" |
| "Drink your coffee," Dean told her firmly. "Don't want it getting cold, right?"
And to set an example, he took another gulp of his, hot, sweet and black. Hell, wasn't like he had to worry about the state of his liver or his teeth now. Hooking an arm over the back of his chair, he glanced around again, few solitary souls sitting eating, drinking. Reading. He'd bet his life Sam would be reading if he were here now, shit, he missed his baby brother. "No." He avoided meeting her eyes, watching the service counter instead. "No, if I knew how to leave I'd be gone, seems it's different for every one of us. Something you need to get back to?" |
| The pounding blood had been joined by a slightly sick feeling, because the world could be ending and she was sitting here drinking coffee.
"Er, yes, there was something. Might still be something, if I haven't wasted too much time here. Long story, but it does involve the end of the world and me really needing to do something about that." |
| Damn, the girl was turning green. "Sounds like we've got something in common," he replied, setting his mug down and reaching across the table to close his hand over hers, warm and solid. "Sally, listen to me, everything I've heard, everything I've got from people that come and go is that they always go back to the same place. There isn't any time to waste, because here, it's not passing."
Fuck if he understood how, but he'd buy the theory and cling to it stubborn as hell if it meant getting back to Sammy in time. |
| "Time isn't passing?" she repeated slowly. "You mean, I could spend days here and I'll still end up back when and where I left?"
That put a slightly different perspective on things. "Ok, now I'm not sure I want to go back any time soon. Considering what I'd be walking back into, I think I may just stay here for a while. It's quiet, and there are no homicidal statues anywhere, at least none that I've seen. And there are muffins, which can't be bad." |
| "'S how I see it." Dean tightened his grip on her hand, offering her his best reassuring smile.
It was a damn good smile. He'd used it a lot. "Homicidal statues is a new one on me, though. I'll see your statues and raise you a passel of demons trying to take over the earth." |
| The smile was good, but Sally got that a lot, and was more distracted by the mention of demons than anything else.
"OK, I'm sure this is where I should be telling you that demons are ten a penny where I come from and expressing surprised disappointment that you don't have killer statues. Except that... well, unless you count traffic wardens and tax inspectors as demonic, I really have to ask. There are real demons?" |
| "Sorry, sweetheart." Never good news to bring anyone, but Dean figured that if Sally was facing homicidal statues, she'd probably need to know about demons. "There are real demons."
But more importantly, great muffins, and he broke off another piece, washing it down with a swallow of coffee. "Some of 'em are even traffic wardens." |
| "Ok, I'm going to be really careful where I park my car in future," Sally responded slowly, looking thoughtful. Then she took a sip of coffee, because coffee was probably the answer to most things.
"So, you were saving the world from demons before you were so rudely interrupted by being brought here then?" |
| "Me and my brother, yeah." Which wasn't the greatest conversational topic, shit, Sammy had better be okay after all that or Dean would have to kick some ass. Sammy as well as demon. "Actually, we'd pretty much managed it," except for the several freaking hundred that managed to get through, "and I was right onto the saving my brother bit of the evening's entertainment. You were saving it from statues?" |
| "I was trying to," she replied, flushing a little. Partly because she wasn't the sort of person to go around saving the world much, but mostly because she'd obviously brought up the wrong topic of conversation. "They weren't really statues. From what I can remember, they were creatures who turned to stone if anyone looked at them, so they couldn't be killed."
He was looking a little less tense now, so she carried on, rambling to try to lighten the mood. "They can't move if you are looking at them, but if you turn away or even just blink, they can somehow send you back into the past and live off the rest of your life. There was a man they sent back who had some sort of time machine, and the not-statues were trying to steal it. I was supposed to send it back to him so they couldn't, but I haven't found it yet. Actually, when I got here I thought it was them and I'd been sent back in time, but maybe when I go back I can still find the machine." She wanted to ask about his brother, but really wasn't sure that was a good idea. |
| "So these statue things can't do anything if you're looking at them?"
Dean considered that one for a while. There had to be a way around that one, because everyone had to freaking blink some time, even demons, though he wouldn't mind setting a few demons against those, though time travelling demons was not the most fun thought ever. Neither was a man with a time machine, for that matter. "What happens if the statues get the time machine, then?" |
| "I'm not sure exactly," she replied, "but I gather it isn't good. The Doctor said something about them switching off the Sun I think. I never really paid attention in science lessons, but I'm fairly sure that wouldn't be a good thing." |
| "Switching off the sun?" Dean checked a little at that, another broken piece of muffin midway to his mouth.
Switching off the sun sounded pretty freaking bad to him, considering how many demons came out under cover of darkness. |
| "I think so."
It was every bit as worrying as Dean appeared to think, but as far as Sally knew, they still hadn't managed to break in yet. That was the thing to keep reminding herself about. "I think they have the machine but they haven't managed to get inside yet. I've got the key, and hopefully I can get to it before anything else happens." |
| "You've got the key."
The muffin resumed its journey to Dean's mouth, but it might as well have been cardboard for all he tasted it as he chewed and swallowed, washing it down with rapidly cooling coffee. "You've got the key with you here?" |
| Sally took a sip of coffee, then gulped the rest down on noting its temperature. "I expect here is probably the best place for it. Completely useless to anyone while the time machine is in a different world." |
| "Yeah, for sure." Dean paused, set his mug down, shot her a look. "Can I see it?" |
| "I hope you're not expecting anything impressive," she cautioned. "If you are, you'll be disappointed."
She reached up to grasp the string around her neck, and slid her fingers down it until she could pull the small piece of metal from where it rested under her shirt. Then she held up the utterly unremarkable Yale key by the string. |
| He looked from the key to Sally's perfectly serious face, and back to the key.
"No. No way, you have got to be shitting me. That's the key to a time machine?" |
| She shrugged. "So it seems. I think it's supposed to be inconspicuous. Both the key and the machine seem to have been designed to blend in with 1930s England, which seems like an odd thing for a time machine to do but there you go." |
| It was ridiculous enough that it almost had to be true. "So this machine, that can go anywhere and anywhen in time and space - and it blends with 1930s England."
His voice was tinged with amusement. "Man, that's just...doesn't it kind of stand out? Like, everywhere else in eternity?" |
| "I expect it probably does," she replied. "It certainly puzzled the police when they found it. Has the wrong size windows apparently. I wondered if perhaps it was built in a time where it would have looked inconspicuous, and the maker had no idea it wouldn't in any other time." |
| "So it doesn't even fit where it's meant to," Dean mused, almost to himself, automatically reaching out to touch the key, one finger tracing the shape of the teeth. "Kind of fits with this whole time travel thing." |
| Sally tensed automatically at him touching the key, then reminded herself that it was safe here so long as she didn't lose it, and no use to anyone else. "Maybe if you can travel in time you don't fit anywhere any more. Still, it'd certainly be interesting." |
| "Spend your life travelling anywhere, you don't have a place to fit," Dean agreed, and let the key fall, grinning as he gently patted it against her chest.
Still not blind, and Sally was definitely a fine looking young woman. |