Chapter One: One late afternoon on August 7th, 2006

»There's someone I'd like you to meet. And in the spirit of full disclosure, I should probably mention that she ain't exactly the greatest fan of our kind. Probably, because most of the others either had the munchies for her or tried to hook the girl up with a pretty leash'n'collar set… Sooo you could say that she isn't as fond of that side of her family as they seem to be of her.«

»In the end she's a freak by your standards and a perfectly innocent oddball by mine. She's— Well, let's just say that we're still not quite sure what kinda swirl she is, but I can promise you this one thing: that girl will read you like a book. And you'll hate it — loathe it, even.«

»Worst part is that she won't even judge you for what she sees. She'll just trigger your inner conscience when you least expect it — ah, scratch that! She will tear into it 'til you decide that you really don't like her because that's just so much easier. So, next thing you know is that you're making up some ridiculous excuse to avoid her in the future. It's just that… «

»Betsy has always been weird like that — if not twice as much since that demon scum got to her… «

»Buuut how about you show me one person, deity, being —whatever, really— in this crazy ass world that you could actually call normal and get away with it! I mean… normality's just another convenient lie made for people who need such cuddly thoughts to put them to beddy at night — all of those deadheads who believe that this 'hot or cold, black or white' kinda thing is still all the rage nowadays.«

»It's because she just doesn't fit into any of their categories — hell, can't really say she fit into one of mine either cause she's just so freakin' compassionate at times.«

»… It's what makes her a royal pain in the ass, but she's my pain in the ass and that's the best excuse anyone's ever going to get for being obnoxious like that.«

»So, if you can find it in yourself to let her in, she'll light you up like the aurora borealis does with the northern skies. You'll feel tall, powerful and raw with the sheer beauty of things… it'll be like the good ol' days, Kali.«

»Now, mind, she's a little blinding at first, but please, by all means, just squint those lovely browns of yours and don't turn your back on her. After all, this is your chance to meet someone very special.«

»And who knows? Maybe you could become a very close second in her books when it comes to awesomeness. Because, let's face it — it's a given that I'll always be number one.«

— Loki, speaking to Kali just before introducing the goddess to Liz in 1952

Since it wasn't exactly a common occurrence to find a stranger sitting at Bobby's kitchen table, the salutatory gun pointing at the blonde's head just happened to be Dean's versatile version of 'better safe than sorry'.

Especially since he could tell with just one glance at the woman's profile that she was no more a hunter than he was a regular churchgoer. If anything, she looked like the one who had accidentally been copy-pasted her from some suburban church's community flyer on top of one of Bobby's kitchen chairs.

Had she been one of them… well, let's just say there'd be hell to pay for sneaking up on her like that.

With that in mind, the brothers slowly inched their way into the small room; all the while checking for more unexpected visitors as well as the man of the house himself. When they failed to locate the salvage yard owner, however, the Winchesters shared one meaningful look before aiming their growing suspicion at the only available scapegoat.

It certainly didn't help that the woman just sat there with pretty much the same justification as those dusty tomes towering on the chairs to her right and left; one hand hovering above the heavily yellowed pages which almost seemed to arch towards her inquisitive fingers.

'Like some sort of neglected pet'Sam couldn't help but think as he noticed how Dean was just seconds away from jumping to conclusions. It didn't really help that she calmly moved to take a sip from her steaming mug rather than offer them some sort of explanation as to why she was the one awaiting them.

What finally ticked his brother off, however, was the fact that the strange woman apparently simply chose to ignore them.

"Just who the fuck are you?" Dean demanded to know as he circled her, trying to catch a glimpse of her face.

After he'd spent hours cramped inside that randomly jacked car together with his brother —the one person Dean could never tell out about their father's last request— he couldn't care less for polite chit-chat.

To say Dean had been desperate to reach the sanctuary of Bobby's scrapyard would have been a bit of an understatement. Now, however, there was this strange woman, sitting in his seat at Bobby's kitchen table —a seemingly insignificant detail that bothered him no less— and pretended like they didn't even exist.

Part of Dean even wanted to ignore the fact that he couldn't detect even the slightest evidence of a fight —something which Bobby would have been sure to put up— just so he had a proper excuse to vent some of his pent-up anger on her.

As if she'd sensed the direction Dean's thoughts had taken, the woman finally turned to acknowledge them and something about her gaze prompted at least the younger of the two Winchesters to lower his dagger.

Sam couldn't quite tell whether it was the somewhat unruly halo of wispy blond hairs framing her open face, or the look of childish innocence that made him do so. It just surprised him to see such artlessness on the face of a person who so obviously wasn't a stranger to find herself at the wrong end of a barrel.

Her eyes travelled between the two of them, seemingly indecisive of what should be done about those weapons pointed at her.

"Oi, I asked you a question!" Dean barked loud enough to make anyone jump. She didn't. And similar to how the blonde simply refused to be intimidated, she showed absolutely no inclination to introduce herself.

Eyes darkening, Dean took another step forward; his tense figure growing at the mercy of his thinning patience, "Listen here, you freakin' barbie doll! If you don't—"

"How about ya drop the pleasantries, Dean? Might as well just pour that holy stuff on her if ya really think I'd allow one of those demon bastards to just merrily skip over my doorstep" Bobby's gruff voice interrupted them none too kindly as he emerged from the living room with another stack of books in his arms — looking decidedly unenthusiastic about having to remedy the situation.

He stared at the brothers with an expression that clearly told them to either give him a good reason for their dramatics or drop their act altogether. "I'd suggest that you put that damn gun away if you don't wanna nose the barrel of mine, boy. There're no special rules for frequent nuisances — a guest's a guest."

To Dean's credit, it only took him about a split second to change from his positively threatening demeanor to one of poorly veiled annoyance.

"Guest? Since when do you invite people over for freakin' tea parties?" Dean scoffed, even if he did eventually stow his gun away — if only to properly cross his arms as he waited for an explanation.

Sam meanwhile couldn't help but notice that the body language of Bobby's guest had visibly changed when the old hunter had introduced her as such. While the soft look remained on her face, the slender set of shoulders straightened as she regarded the older hunter; her fingers curling protectively around a mug of herbal tea.

"Well, that was before you boys came around deciding to be all charming and polite, you dimwit!" the older hunter retorted as he walked over to the woman who met his eyes with a small smile on her lips. "Sorry 'bout them, dear. Here you go."

But instead of taking a look at the growing pile of tomes in front of her, the woman focused her expectant gaze on Bobby, who had, at some point, moved to stand in front of her — effectively shielding her from the Winchester's inquiring stares.

When the silence remained, Dean's sceptic frown only deepened. Unsure about whether to take action, he threw a glance to Sam who only shrugged. It wasn't like his brother knew what to make of this situation either — not to mention that Bobby himself was behaving somewhat strangely.

"How 'bout you explain this to us then, Bobby?" Dean finally suggested; already fed up with having to deal with this on top of everything else. Pressing two fingers to where he felt a major headache building beneath his temple, he added, "When I called, you didn't mention anything 'bout hosting the local church's book club tonight."

While Dean had not cared whether or not he came across as rude before, he now fully intended to show just how much he appreciated meeting goody two-shoes over there. That he felt slightly bad about succeeding so easily —she really looked like his words made her uncomfortable— was something he simply shoved down with all of his other emotions.

It could hardly be his fault.

Bobby, however, knew exactly what Dean was up to, "Look, Dean, I get it. And I am sorry that this came up right now, but I ain't gonna turn people away who come to me for help. I know what I signed up for and so do you!"

With his jaw set in defiance, Dean simply refused to let Booby win the staring contest which inevitably ensued. Especially when a small hand suddenly made an appearance on Bobby's arm; giving it a slight squeeze before the rest of the person appeared at the side of the salvage yard owner — fully presenting herself for the first time.

And then, it just clicked.

Her strangeness, Bobby's attempts to shield her from them…

This wasn't just a small town's poster girl. This was actually so much worse.

While Bobby's guest couldn't exactly be called short, there was something about her figure that made her appear frail in the dim light of the kitchen. It just so happened that her pale skin and the soft features only added to her image as she regarded them with unguarded curiosity; a picture of perfect ingenuousness dressed in an old-fashioned pale summer dress.

Dean had to admit that she was pretty, though in an elfin way that he didn't really care for. Especially since the hunter in him recognized the otherworldliness about her. Not the kind that promised immediate danger but a strange sort of radiance that just spelled trouble and Dean didn't want any of that standing this close to Bobby.

The dimly lit kitchen only seemed to further add to the contrast between the worn hunter and the supernatural being. Even if the female creature made it quite obvious that she felt perfectly at ease here — faced with three hunters and the possibility of winding up as this evening's casualty.

"Boys, this is Liz" Bobby introduced her — still somewhat reluctant. It almost seemed as if he had a vague premonition that he would come to regret ever having brought them together. "She's an ol' friend of mine. Liz, I told you about Dean and Sam."

While the Winchesters didn't exactly bother to hide their suspicion, the woman named Liz smiled warmly at them — dimples quick to form on her heart shaped face. It was hard to imagine how Bobby's mention of them being old friends and her simple-minded happy-go-lucky attitude could even fit into the same room.

Dean, who seriously started to get creeped out by her whole persona, chose to conveniently wrap his uncomfortableness with one of his snarky observation, "'She mute or what?"

"Dean!" Sam finally interjected, deciding that his brother's crudity was as good a moment as any to speak up for the first time since entering the kitchen.

"Alright, that's it!" Bobby snapped, though the thought of why the boys were here made him keep his voice level. He would give them the peace and space they needed, but he just couldn't allow Dean to turn John's death into an excuse for acting like such a douche. "Go unpack your stuff or find something else to make yourselves useful! Just buzz off!"

"Hell no! First of all, I want to know what this is about, Bobby!" Dean demanded without any inclination to back down as he took a step towards the odd pair. "What about crazy-pants here? 'cause if I didn't miss the memo about you openin' some sort of monster guesthouse, I'd say she messed with your head old man! Since when do you invite strange creatures over for frickin' tea?"

Sam, who sensed that this conversation quickly headed towards a very dead end, stepped forward until he stood next to his brother with his raised hands. "Bobby, we really don't want to meddle with your affairs, but—"

"Well then, how about tryin' to mind your own damn business for a change?"

"—but how about a quick heads up? Like, giving us a bit more than just a name to work with? — I mean, no offense, Liz, but we've had a bit of rough week and it would help if you two could just… tell us what you're up to?" Sam finally shrugged a little helplessly while Dean looked like he would like to add a few less diplomatic demands to that, if necessary.

When Bobby took a deep breath, some of the tension eased out of the room.

While he didn't care for being forced to explain himself —in his own home no less— the more reasonable part of him, the one who had tried to make the best of the situation after supernatural beings had clawed their way into his life, understood where the boys' suspicions stemmed from.

Before the old hunter could however relent, Liz beat him to it.

I am terribly sorry to intrude on you. — said the note she had hurriedly scribbled inside a notebook before showing it to the two Winchesters. If I had known that Robert expected you, I wouldn't have bothered him. I usually just drop the items I collected over time and then stay for a cup of tea.

She was completely oblivious to the look Dean exchanged with Sam before both of them turned on Bobby.

"Robert?"

"What does 'usually' mean?"

Pausing her eager scribbling, Liz turned to the old hunter just as he simply shrugged, "Met her during a case in the nineties… There were news of a trickster and at first, I thought that Liz here had to be the culprit. 'sure was wrong about that" Bobby admitted with a wry smirk and Sam was admittedly caught off guard by the fondness that colored the old hunter's next words, "Liz took good care of that bastard before I even had a chance to figure it out myself. Since then she's been dropping in once or twice a year."

"Oh come on!" Dean groaned and when the other two hunters in the room frowned at him, he gestured dismissively towards Liz. "Just because she looks like that doesn't make her anything less of a freakin' monster!" When Liz frowned at him, he scoffed uncaringly, "Just calling them as I see them…"

Ignoring the prominent vein on Bobby's throat, the older Winchester turned towards Liz almost conversationally, "What are you anyway?"

Even if Sam disagreed with his brother's choice of words, he couldn't deny that he too was curious about the nature of the one supernatural being which had been given free rein in Bobby Singer's house.

It took her some time, but finally Liz handed them her notebook.

That's a very good question.

If Dean felt like just strangling the woman by this point, he overplayed it surprisingly well by handing the notebook to Sam and proceeding to give Liz the best 'I've-known-you-for-like-five-minutes-now-and-I'm-already-so-done-with-your-bullshit'—stare he could muster.

Sam meanwhile only raised his brows before handing it back to the encouragingly smiling girl.

"You wanna tell me that you have not the slightest idea just what the hell you are?" Dean finally asked, his voice taking on a patronizing touch to convey that he'd call bull on anything that would come out of her mouth. To Sam, however, his brother sounded like he was talking to a person he considered mentally retarded — which happened to be the same conclusion that Bobby reached in about that exact moment.

Before the old hunter could however step in, Liz finally dropped her smile with a sigh and used Bobby's shoulder as support for her notebook; effectively stopping the man from defending her as she scribbled her next message.

I've been hunted for longer than I care to admit and for the sole reason of being different from any other supernatural being I encountered. It's about time that I find answers and while I am sorry for my bad timing, I can't put it off any longer.

If Liz' words made Dean feel even in the least bit guilty, he easily squashed that feeling in favor of sending Bobby a long inquiring stare.

"So… you're going to help this unknown supernatural freak creature with her… existential crises while none of us knows what she's really capable of… Does this sound about right, or did I miss any of the small details which you oh so conveniently chose to ignore, Bobby?"

Instead of pointing out how he was more than capable of making decisions on his own, Bobby calmly but clearly explained, "I offered her to help with the research and Liz will stay here while we try to find an answer."

Dean nodded as if the thought of having her around didn't make him taste bile in his mouth.

"How long this gonna take?"

Bobby returned his stare for quite some time; his raised brows and widely opened eyes a fair warning that he was on the verge of raising his voice again. "We'll see."

Not once taking his eyes off Bobby's strange new friend, Dean stomped past that persistent, if somewhat timid smile on Liz' face to take a beer from the fridge before disappearing outside.

His muttering about the dubious merits of "—inviting freakin' supernatural mental cases to one's own home—" could easily be heard inside and it caused both Bobby and Sam to sigh simultaneously.

The younger Winchester however finally gave himself a push and extended his hand towards Liz, "Sorry about my brother. Dean's usually not as— well… it's just a bad day for meeting new people, I guess. I'm Sam by the way. It's nice to meet you, Liz."

Judging by the way she took his hand with such obvious delight, Sam could tell that this small gesture meant a great deal to her. For some strange reason this observation made him feel both guilty and at the same time pleased to have reached out all — even if it had been an unconscious move.

When Liz handed her scribbles to Bobby only a moment later, he scanned them quickly before shaking his head with a grumbling sigh.

"He'll get over it, girl, maybe give him some space and enough time to work on his car… just promise me that you won't go and try to apologize to the idjit."

The way the older hunter spoke to Liz hinted that there had to be some a story behind this peculiar remark and judging by the look on her face, Bobby had been right about her train of thoughts.

It was just then that Sam realized how well the older hunter knew Liz. And while he too would have preferred some time without strangers, he understood where Bobby came from.

Also, the idea of busying himself with something —anything really— seemed more sensible than going after a brooding Dean right then. He was aware that he'd have to deal with his brother and his own loss at some point, but the chance to figure out the true nature of Liz sounded like a good challenge for now. At least Sam would be able to find out more about this strange woman — all while making sure that she definitely didn't pose any threat.

"Hey Liz. Mind if I help with the research?"

Author's note: So, this happens to be an idea that's been on my mind long enough to have my fingers itching. I have to admit that I don't know where I plan to take this yet, but I got a few fun ideas and I really felt like Gabriel could use a crazy little patchwork family on earth, so there's Liz (and some more members whom I plan to introduce later on). Liz is a strange one, but I seem to be quite fond of writing those. I hope you will like her too!

The story starts at the beginning of season 2, after John's death, and with the arrival of the brothers at Bobby's. I intend to mostly follow the storyline with a few small (or maybe not so small) changes here and there.