Chapter Three

"So are we going to Stanford University?" Dean asked his brother, as they sat in the room at the Stanford Inn, eating some fast food. Dean had talked Sam into having something unhealthy, and he was kind of proud of the fact.

"I guess..." Sam replied, looking down briefly. "We probably have to get there sooner or later, huh? Might as well be sooner."

Dean eyed his brother for several moments, but didn't say anything. He could tell that Sam wasn't really that happy with the whole thing; his brother really didn't look like he wanted to talk about it. "We don't have to go yet if you're not feeling up to it."

"No – but I think it would be better if we went there now," Sam replied. "Or soon, anyway. Can't put it off forever, can I?" He looked up when there was a knock on the door, and frowned. "Dean, who knows we're here?"

"Only Bobby – but I doubt he'd be outside." Dean stood up, and walked over to the door, but didn't open it. "Yeah?" he called.

"It's housekeeping," came the reply. "May I come in to drop off some towels?"

"Uh..." Dean turned from the door to look at his brother. "We got anything incriminating in sight?" Even as he asked that – in a voice barely above a whisper – he noticed that there was a gun in plain view on the bed. "Sam!" he hissed, gesturing towards the gun.

"Oh, right." Sam grabbed the gun, and shoved it into one of the drawers. "All clear."

Dean turned back to the door and opened it, raising his eyebrows at the tall blonde woman standing just outside. A slow smile spread across his face as he gave her a quick once-over. "Hi there. You want to come in?"

"I just need to drop off some towels." But the woman smiled as well. "Of course, if you'd like, I can come in – but just for a little while. I do have work to do."

Dean could just about see Sam rolling his eyes behind his back, but Dean smirked and took a step back to allow the woman access into the room. "Feel free to disappear for, say, half an hour or so, Sammy."

The woman stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind her. "I need to speak to both of you anyway," she stated. "When I learned there were two hunters in town, I knew I had to come and see you." She smiled, showing teeth that were slightly pointed. "I'm Mab. You've probably heard of me."

Dean opened his mouth to say that the name was familiar – but he couldn't immediately place it. However, before he could speak, he saw Sam – out of the corner of his eye – come to stand next to him. His brother was carrying an iron poker in both hands, wielding it like a sword. "She's a fairy," Sam explained, in answer to Dean's glance. "They're weak to iron."

Mab hissed – just like a cat – taking a step backwards. "Come on. If I'd wanted to attack you, I would have done so rather than giving you my name."

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, but Sam didn't actually lower the poker. "What do you want?" Sam asked.

"I need your help." Mab grimaced a little, temporarily closing her mouth over her pointed teeth. "Believe me, if I had a choice, I wouldn't be working with humans, let alone hunters. As it turns out, though, you may be the only two who can help me. There's a rogue fairy who will cause the destruction of the world. I sent one of my people to stop her, but he was murdered by her bodyguard."

"Why do you want our help?" Dean asked.

"Because humans can touch iron and we can't," Mab said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

"Don't trust her, Dean," Sam said in a low voice, before his brother could speak. "According to the stories about them, the fay can't be trusted. If she's here, she wants something from us; and that can't be good."

Mab glanced at Sam, narrowing her eyes a little. "You should brush up on your research, boy. The fay can't tell lies."

Dean looked at his brother. "Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "There's so much lore about the fay – I think the iron thing is the only part everything agrees on."

"Do we know any experts on fairies?" Dean grimaced a little. "That's a question I never thought I'd have to ask."

"Well, Bobby might know something – but we could always try asking Cass," Sam replied, still holding the iron poker in front of him. Even though he was talking to Dean, Sam didn't take his eyes off Mab. "You need to give us a few minutes to talk about this, and find out any information we can."

Mab frowned, a brief flash of annoyance crossing her face. Then, she slowly nodded. "Very well. I suppose I can understand your caution. When you have made your decision, call my name three times." With those words, she simply disappeared.

Dean let out a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding, and turned to his brother. "So why do you know so much about fairies?"

Sam shrugged. "Before I went to Stanford, I made it a point to brush up on knowledge about all possible supernatural creatures. That's why I knew about angels, even though both you and Dad said they could never exist." He actually smirked a little. "Turns out I was right about that. Anyway, after... Jessica... I started doing even more research; particularly after you went to hell."

"Just don't rub it in," Dean muttered, glancing at the spot where Mab had stood, before looking back at Sam. "So, what? We're gonna call Cass?"

Sam shrugged. "We could try calling Gabriel – but I don't know if he'd hear us, or even come. We'd probably be better off speaking to Cass; though he did warn us to stay away from this case..."

"If there's another apocalypse coming, though, we can't exactly stay out of it. We're already trying to stop Lucifer." Dean paused as a thought struck him. "Hey... maybe we can make a bargain with Mab. We help her with her problem, and she can help us against Lucifer."

Sam shook his head sharply. "Dean, we can't make bargains with these things. I know I suggested trying to make a deal with the Trickster, but this is different. At least Gabriel only went after those who deserved it – us being exceptions. The fay delight in having power over other people. If we end up being indebted to them, that's only gonna be a bad thing."

"Any worse than you letting Satan ride your ass? Cause at least this way, we'd both be alive." But Dean had to admit that his brother had a point. Look how well the past bargains made had gone. Dean couldn't regret trading his life for his brother's, and he guessed their Dad probably felt the same way. However, even knowing that he'd do the same again – despite what his time in hell had cost him – he knew that making a bargain with something else could only be a bad idea. "Okay, okay. You're right. But let's at least talk to Cass to get any information he has." Without waiting for a reply, he took out his cell phone – but then paused and glanced at Sam. "You still want to go to the university? Find that witness?" He was giving Sam an out. They didn't have to go and speak to the witness – maybe they could get by just with information learned from Mab and Cass.

But Sam was shaking his head. "We need to get information from all possible sources. If you want to call Cass, we can find out anything he knows; and then tomorrow, we can go to the university and talk to the witness."

Dean grunted. "Your choice, Sammy." He dialled Castiel's number but frowned when it went to voicemail. "Hey, Sam? You ever had Cass not pick up when you've tried calling?"

"I don't call him nearly as much as you do, Dean." Sam sat down on the bed, resting the poker next to him but still keeping his hand on it. He frowned. "He's not answering? I thought you and he were like bosom buddies or something."

Dean ignored Sam in favour of leaving a message on Castiel's phone. "Hey, Cass? We're kinda stuck right now. We need all the information you've got on fairies." He disconnected the call and looked at his brother. "I'm guessing he's busy with the whole searching for God thing." Dean couldn't help feeling a little concerned, though. Since Castiel had rebelled from heaven, trying to get hold of the angel had been successful every time. Maybe he was just really busy... but Dean was still concerned.

"So what do we do?" Sam asked. "Wait? Try to call Gabriel?"

"I'm not really sure I want to start talking to him," Dean replied. "Gotta admit, he's screwed us over more times than I can count. Also, do you really think he wouldn't be able to find us if he wanted to help us?"

"I guess you're right..."

"Better believe it." Dean flopped onto one of the beds, smirking.

"Make sure you don't have any more dreams about vampire swans." Sam grinned.

"Bite me," Dean said as he rolled his eyes before closing them. It wasn't long before sleep closed them, letting sleep overtake him.

Philip walked back to the lake, hoping that Ryssa would be there. He'd asked if she could return to the lake alone, but Ryssa had seemed a little uncertain about whether or not she would be able to do so.

It had been close to a moon since Philip had met Ryssa for the first time. She held his interest and captivated him far more than any other female in the village – but each time he'd attempted to raise the prospect of marriage, Ryssa had gone pale and asked that they speak of something else.

Perhaps the best thing to do would be to ask to speak to her father. Philip hadn't yet met him, but he couldn't imagine any reason why the man wouldn't see him as a suitable suitor. After all, Philip had his own house – and he could certainly feed a wife as well as himself.

As he saw Ryssa step into view next to the lake, Philip just watched her. It appeared that she was alone – but Philip was still a little hesitant about stepping out of the trees immediately. He remembered Ryssa's words about her sisters and didn't want to risk them seeing him.

When Ryssa knelt beside the lake to trail her fingers in the water, though, Philip couldn't wait any longer. He moved towards her and smiled when she looked up at him. "You were able to come alone?"

Ryssa nodded slowly but looked down at the water again. "I know what your intentions are." She spoke in a low voice, devoid of any emotion.

Philip felt the cold hand of fear on his back – but when he spoke, nothing of that came through in his voice. "If you know my intentions, do you have an answer for me?"

Ryssa stood up slowly and stepped nearer to him. She reached out with fingers that trembled slightly and took his hand. "I am here, am I not? Do you need me to answer with words that I will consent to be your wife?"

Philip smiled and reached out to draw her into his arms, trying not to notice the way her form shook within his embrace.