Chapter 7:-

They'd just finished washing the breakfast dishes out when they heard the back door open and close, and felt the flurry of cold air rush into the room, chilling them quickly and thoroughly.

Angel stood in the doorway between the hall and the kitchen, cheeks pinkened by the cold air, giving her an almost healthy glow though she was still pale underneath. She was smiling and looked much better than she had a couple of hours ago.

"Hey," Sam said, helping her with her coat and moving her to sit by the fire. "Good walk?"

"You wouldn't believe how good I feel just for getting out of here for a while," she continued to smile. "Plus, Mrs. Medford made proper English-style porridge. Apparently it's guaranteed to stick to your ribs like glue… or so Mr. Medford informed me." She laughed softly, eyes bright and cheeks still flushed.

She looked pretty, and that's how Sam remembered her from their Stanford days.

"Did you find anything for breakfast?" she asked them, holding her hands out to the fire to warm them through.

"Sure did," Dean grinned, winking at Sam.

"Good. Well, if you two don't mind, I'm going to sneak off and call my husband and see if there's any chance he'll be able to make it home today." She got up from the chair. "And I might even go out again this afternoon. I'll see how I feel after lunch."

When she'd gone, Sam flashed Dean a warning look. "Dude, you have got to cool it with the winking and the innuendos and kissing and stuff…"

Dean just shook his head and sniggered. "Relax, Sammy. Angel is too wrapped up in her own problems to notice anything going on between us… and you know that." He crossed the room and draped his arm across Sam's shoulders. "You'll give us away with the constant guilty looks."

Sam nodded, knowing Dean was right. They didn't normally have to worry about anyone finding out about them, they'd long since given up pretending they were brothers to outsiders. People had always mistaken them as a gay couple, so why not play along with it? Only trouble was that Angel did know they were brothers and not too many people were okay with the idea of related people shacking up together, even less so when said relatives were brothers. And Sam knew had a natural talent for emo-angst without even trying.

"Hey," Dean said, distracting Sam from his current train of thought. "Heard back from Bobby yet?"

Sam shook his head, but pulled his cell phone to check anyway. "Not a word. Mind you, he did sound kinda busy when I called."

"Bobby always sounds busy," Dean agreed. "He'll call when he has something."

"Yeah," Sam said distractedly. "You know, I can't get it out of my head that if there's nothing supernatural in this house that's making Angel so sick, then the obvious cause is human. So that would imply that it's one of four people: her husband, Robert; her mother-in-law, Rosemary; or the Medford's."

"Well, she came back from the Medford's this morning looking like she'd spent a week relaxing on a beach somewhere…" Dean acknowledged.

"I know. I doubt it's them. I can't imagine they'd have much to gain from making her this sick," Sam puzzled. "It'd have to be either Robert of Rosemary. Which one would have the most to gain from… from…"

"Killing her?" Dean supplied when it was obvious Sam couldn't bring himself to say the words aloud.

"Yeah," Sam sighed the word out slowly. "I liked this better when this all seemed to be a supernatural cause."

"Yeah `cause I can never say this enough… Demons I get. People are crazy," Dean nodded vehemently.

Sam gave a wry tight-lipped smile. "So that, by default, leaves Robert and Rosemary. And we don't know either personally, but my best guess would be Rosemary."

"If I had to bet on it, I'd go with Rosemary. She's around more than the husband, and her thing with the solarium… making up lotions and potions and God knows whatever else…"

Sam nodded, agreeing. "After lunch, I'm gonna check that room out, see if I can't remember some of the botany Dad taught us."

"You remember that crap?" Dean grumbled. He'd hardly ever paid attention to Dad's lessons… that had been Sam's job, he thought, smirking to himself.

"I paid attention to the fact that some plants can kill you, yes. That they might look all innocent and shit, but one leaf could have the ability to knock you flat on your ass," Sam snickered at the memory of Dad giving them both a dose of Curare and then laughing as both boys bodies went limp from the reaction to anesthetizing properties of the plant. Thankfully, Dad had also seen fit to teach them about counter-reactions, and which plants could heal instead of harm.

"Yeah… well…" Dean did his best to look contrite. "Is it lunchtime yet?" he asked, and appropriate growl from his stomach accompanied the words.

~ O ~

After a light lunch of tuna sandwiches and potato chips, Angel wrapped herself up once again and set off to hike across the snow covered fields to her mother-in-law's home.

There was still no word from Bobby and Sam debating calling him again, but declined when he remembered the last time he'd gotten impatient waiting for information and Bobby had just about bitten his ear off through the phone.

So, instead, Dean took Sam to the solarium that ran along the side of the kitchen. You'd miss it if you weren't deliberately looking for it. It was small and tucked tidily away out of sight of the main house. Perfect for what it was being used for.

One side was almost like a small greenhouse. The wall was made from glass sheeting, and shelves lined the wall. Earthenware pots spaced evenly along them, plants at varying stages of growth… none of them named or labeled.

In the middle of the room stood a long marble table scattered with all sorts of things, from vials and bottles and jars, to different sized pestle and mortar combinations and what looked a lot like a coffee bean grinder. A hand-written notebook lay to one side of the table. It looked old and well used, the binding tattered and partly torn. Sam raised the front cover and saw row upon row of neat writing, faded to an almost sepia color only slightly darker than the ancient paper itself. There was a detailed, intricate drawing above it, highlighting the part of the plant to be used in the recipe.

On the opposite wall was a large cabinet, or rather the cabinet was the wall, so to speak. Every inch of the wall was lined with drawers and glass-fronted cupboards. Each filled with various dried roots, leaves and seeds. One cupboard was full of more notebooks, recipe books and even ancient herbal text books that had seen better days.

"You know what?" Dean announced, looking around the room again. Without waiting for Sam's reply, he carried on: "This room reminds me of that Practical Magic film with Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman… Man, all the way through I thought those two were gonna get it on…"

"Dean," Sam chided sharply. But he had to admit, that's what the room had reminded him of too. But without the porny bits thrown in. Though Sandra Bullock was hot in that film, he conceded.

"What?" Dean rolled his head on his shoulders, but managed to look suitably guilty. "I'm just saying… two hot chicks… and they were sisters, you know… and we're brothers…" He winked, wiggling his brows suggestively.

"I know what you were saying. Now shut up," Sam snapped, snarkier than he meant to sound. But seriously, sometimes… his brother…

"So, huh… you recognize any of these plants?" Dean swiftly and smartly changed the subject.

"Some. Most, I guess. I bet there's a plant book around here that'll identify the ones I don't know." His fingers ran along the spines, his eyes tracking the words written on them.

Dean's eyes lingered on the delicateness of Sam's fingers. Long, thin with only the bumps of his knuckles dividing them. Fingers that make Dean melt with wanting. He wondered, momentarily, if he had always wanted Sam like this… or if it was something that happened gradually along the road that mapped out their broken lives. He wondered, sometimes, if Sam had any idea of just how much he really meant to Dean. And often, Dean just wondered…

Sam pulled a book off the shelf at the exact moment his cell phone started playing some song by some band Sam liked but Dean couldn't remember the name of.

Sam had the phone at his ear and relayed everything to Dean. "It's Bobby… laptop… meet us on the webcam…" Sam shrugged along with Dean at that request. "Got something to tell us… ten minutes…"

A few minutes later, they were sitting on Sam's bed, laptop booting up, and the filched plant book on the small desk under the bedroom window. Dean was trying to convince Sam that they had time to 'at least kiss if nothing else' while they waited for the laptop, and Bobby…

…But then Bobby's voice had them flying apart…

"Oh fer the devil's sake…" Bobby's voice drifted out of the laptop, tiny but no less gruff than normal. "If I wanted gay porn – which I don't – I'd chose my own."

"It's good to see you too, Bobby… and yeah, why the webcam?" Dean snarked good-naturedly, even if a little sarcastically.

"Haven't seen you boys in months. Half wondered if you were still alive," Bobby scolded, hinting that a simple phone call every now and again would be kinda nice.

"Sorry, Bobby. We've been kinda busy lately," Sam explained, his tone suitably serious.

"Well, good fer you. Food other than tongue sandwiches is useful, you know. And before ya start, I don't care what you boys do, just so long as you don't do it in my face," Bobby gave them a smirk… at least it looked like a smirk but it was hard to see beneath the beard.

"So, what've you got for us," Sam asked, hoping Bobby would let the other subject slide.

"Okay. I got a hunter buddy out that way whose brother works in the big hospital in town. As a favor to me, he'd test the whatever it was. Only trouble you boys'll have is trying to get into town in this snow you got up there. He told me the smaller roads are mostly blocked and even the main roads are packed."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. He bit his lip while he thought.

"He said you can drop a sample of the stuff when the roads are clear, which should be just a couple more days."

"Thanks, Bobby. That's great. I just hope whatever's going on doesn't get worse before then," Sam explained.

"This girl in danger then?" Bobby asked, frowning.

"I think so. Dean couldn't find a supernatural cause for what's happening to her, so the only other explanation is human."

"Well, then, it's a good thing you're both there. Listen boys, a heads up now and then wouldn't kill either of ya," Bobby growled gruffly, all bluff and no bite.

"Yeah, thanks. We'll stay in touch," Dean promised.

"Huh… Where are you both?" Bobby puzzled, peering into the webcam and making his face distorted at the other end.

"Massachusetts. Thought I'd mentioned that," Sam frowned.

"Ya eejit. Where abouts are you exactly?" Bobby growled.

"In Angel's house, on Sam's bed," Dean answered, eyebrows arched and eyes wide.

"Both of ya, move so I can see that headboard better," he demanded.

Sam and Dean crawled off the bed, giving each other disbelieving looks as they did.

"Right, ya can get back on now," Bobby's disembodied voice growled from the back of the laptop.

"You like the headboard?" Dean asked, completely perplexed at Bobby's interest.

"I've seen those markings before, but I can't seem to recall where… or why… Anyways, I got stuff to do, so I'll be seeing you two… soon?" He dipped his head questioningly.

"Sure. We might be passing your way sometime soon. Never know where the next job's gonna happen," Sam told him.

"You two take care," Bobby said, by way of a goodbye.

The webcam screen went blank, leaving Sam and Dean to pass baffled looks between them.

"All righty, then," Dean chuckled, pushing Sam back down onto the bed and all but crawling on top of him. "Make out time."

Sam snorted. The last few minutes had been interesting, but now he just kinda wanted to check out what plants he did – or didn't – recognize from the still room, and work out whether or not Rosemary was deliberately or accidentally poisoning her daughter-in-law. He only realized he'd said it all aloud when Dean pouted.

"But Sammy, I wanna make out now," Dean whined, sounding like a five year old begging to go to McDonald's for a Happy Meal.

"While I have the laptop already booted up, I may as well collaborate the information and look up the plants and their uses," Sam told him.

"Why did I have to go and fall for Geekboy?" Dean mused, kissing Sam anyway, linking their fingers together above their heads.

Sam smiled against Dean's lips, hands trailing along Dean's back until they reached his butt. He gave a sharp squeeze, and then slapped hard.

"What'cha do that for?" Dean grunted, but making no move to get off Sam.

"Because you can't stop at a kiss, and Angel could get back at any time… and I don't wanna get caught with pants around my ankles and your cock buried in my ass. `Cause that'd take some explaining, 'kay?" Sam grinned, cheeks flushing a soft pink and his eyes sparkling.

Dean snorted loudly. He hoisted himself reluctantly off of Sam and adjusted the crotch of his jeans. His hard cock bulged obscenely against the zipper, giving him a salacious look. His fingers, though, were still linked with Sam's.

"Okay. Okay. Well, while you're being all hot and sexy and studying, I'll be downstairs fixing myself a snack," Dean huffed, without any real heat in his sharp words. Then softer, he said: "You want I fix you something too?"

Sam nodded, smiling, thumb tracing a lazy circle across the back of Dean's hand. The touch sensual, light, but hot and seductive at the same time.

"I'll bring you a soda and a sandwich, then," and with that, he pulled away from Sam and went downstairs.

Sam grabbed the book from the floor and opened it at the beginning and flicked through, looking for the plants he recognized straight off. Most of the ones in the solarium appeared to of the poisonous variety and Sam had a very sick feeling about letting Angel take the tonic that same morning.

He rolled off the bed and lunged towards his messenger bag, fumbling through it for a pad and a pen so that he could make some notes. He didn't like this at all, and he was starting to believe what Dean always said about people being more crazy that demons. In this case, it seems he was right.