Aziraphale gave the woven basket one more look before looking up towards the second level of the house he and Crowley owned.
"Are you ready yet?" Aziraphale called.
"Almost. Gimme one more minute, Angel," Crowley responded.
Aziraphale sighed fondly. "I'll wait for you in the car."
"No, wait, I'm here!" Crowley responded, speeding down the stairs with a dark red picnic blanket in hand.
"Oh, I almost forgot we needed that. Thank you for grabbing it, Love," Aziraphale smiled and kissed Crowley shortly. "Anything else?"
"Not that I can remember. I think we're good," Crowley said.
The two exited the house, walking to the old Bentley parked outside. Of course there were quicker ways to get to their destination, but the couple found they rather liked long car trips like the one to Tadfield they were about to take. They'd gotten together less than a year after Armageddidn't and had gotten married after ten years of dating. It'd been fifteen years since Apoca-let's-not and they were happier than ever with both heaven and hell out of the picture and they were free to be who they wanted.
They mentored Adam in how to use his powers safely, helped with his schoolwork, and generally became a second set of parents. Anathema and Newt got married three years after meeting and had three kids, the oldest going on eight and the youngest three. They had a rocky start, but everything was going smoothly. Both Brian and Pepper moved out of Tadfield at one point, Brian moving with his parents to a bigger city because of a job opportunity when he was sixteen, and Pepper for college, getting a degree in law. She was determined to make a change to the world, one way or another. Despite that, The Them kept in touch and talked regularly.
The car ride to Tadfield was nice, as was the weather. A perfect day for a picnic. The two were meeting with Anathema, Newt, Adam, and Wensleydale to catch up. It was always nice to see what they were up to. And Aziraphale had a story about something he'd witnessed in a shopping center about a week ago that he really wanted to tell. A lady fell flat on her face and not wanting the lady to be embarrassed, several other people followed her example. It was both the sweetest thing and the funniest thing the angel had seen in a while. (Thing that Crowley hadn't done or initiated, of course. He always knew exactly what to do to get a funny or sweet reaction from people. It was nice.)
They finally reached their destination, even a bit early thanks to Crowley's efficient (reckless) driving. Shortly after, the others arrived. It all went as usual, telling stories, catching up.
Adam said something about a case Pepper said she was helping with and how people made strange decisions, which caused Anathema to respond, "Right? I have a friend who works at this school as a teacher and two different coworkers of hers were murdered recently. I just don't get how people can do that to another person. She's completely freaked out, understandably. Taking some time off to get herself together."
"Oh, the one from New York?" Aziraphale asked. At Anathema's answering nod, he continued, "That's too bad. From what you've said before she sounds so nice. If you'd like, we can go check on her? Offer some protection just in case?"
"You sure it's not too much trouble?" Anathema asked.
"Oh, of course it's not! Anything to help someone. Just a short trip, right Dear?" Aziraphale turned to Crowley.
Crowley raised an eyebrow, not challenging Aziraphale as he knew that Aziraphale would go whether he approved or not, but silently questioning why he had to go too. "Yeah, sure, but.. After lunch, okay Angel?"
"Okay," Aziraphale smiled.
Sam looked through the local papers of the New York town that he and Dean were passing through, searching for any possible cases. So far he'd found one, pretty close by too. Two teachers KOed in one night, both alone in their classrooms, the school closed and the doors to the classrooms locked. One teacher looked to have been bludgeoned to death with the amount of bruises around his body and the pile of (fairly bloody) dictionaries surrounding him. The other had been crushed by one of the ceiling lights falling on him, which hadn't been enough to kill him, but the shattered glass cutting into him did that well enough on its own. The light, upon further inspection, seemed to have been tampered with, specifically the bolts holding the thing up.
School was let out for a few days, understandably. So Sam and Dean conducted their own investigation, going through their normal routine, interviewing police, the coroner, coworkers, students. Elizabeth Rolen was just another person to go see.
She was a rather short woman, mid thirties with shoulder length dusty brown hair. When they went to see her, she was a mess. On alert constantly, wearing pajamas, squinting at everything (though that might have had something to do with the fact that there was a glasses case on her coffee table but no glasses on her face.). She even looked like she'd been crying, but it was hard to tell with her hair brushed in front of her eyes.
"Officers Isaac McKinley and Andrew Michealson, FBI," Dean said when she opened the door.
"Oh, I guess you're here about Don and Richie. Come in," Elizabeth said, opening the door enough to let the two in.
As Sam stepped past the door frame, he felt something shift under his foot. He looked down. "Salt?"
"I have a friend who's well versed in witchcraft. Salt's supposed to keep out demons and spirits. It's all superstition, really," Elizabeth said, looking mildly uncomfortable.
"Right," Dean muttered as he entered the room and sat on the couch.
"So, was there anyone who maybe held a grudge against either of them?" Sam asked.
"Well, there are a lot of unhappy students.
They've been around a while, both of them were my teachers when I went to middle school. Both really set in their way of doing things. But I can't imagine a student who would want to kill either of them, much less actually attempt it. As far as personal lives go, I don't know much. I don't think so, but neither were really the type to advertise their failures or regrets," Elizabeth answered.
"Any strange rumors among the students that could mean anything? Perhaps someone who's isolated from the others?" Sam asked.
Elizabeth thought for a moment. "Not any with credibility, but I once heard a student tell another that he thought Don was sleeping with another teacher's wife. The things that teens come up with is astonishing."
"...Was he?" Dean asked.
"The other guy is both gay and single," Elizabeth deadpanned.
"Oh," Dean blinked. "Did either of the victims act weird before they died?"
"No, both normal as far as I could tell," Elizabeth said.
"Did you notice anything weird about their classrooms?" Sam asked.
"No, but I didn't go in them much so there could've been," Elizabeth said.
"Alright, well, thank you for your time," Dean said, standing up.
"One last question? The friend you mentioned earlier, the one familiar with witchcraft, what's their name?" Sam asked, standing.
"Anathema. Why? You don't think she had anything to do with this, do you?" Elizabeth asked, sounding annoyed.
"Well we have to cover all of our bases," Dean answered.
"Well consider it covered, she lives in England," Elizabeth told them.
And with a final goodbye, the two undercover hunters left.