'So, what did you need it for?' Dean asked from by the door, keeping one eye on the street outside.
Seamus had said he needed a fireplace, a real one, so they had broken into a large, fireplace supporting, mansion. Castiel had gone out earlier, by order of Seamus, to find a house with a fireplace and on the mantle of that fireplace a bowl of fluorescent green powder. It was a strange request, but he had asked no questions. Not even when Seamus lured the inhabitants out of their house with a fake phone call.
'Don't worry about that, just watch the door.' Seamus grumbled, fumbling with a piece of paper. He had been sitting on his knees by the fireplace, wand to his right and the green powder on his left. Sam was watching the backdoor, Dean the front and Castiel was on the roof, watching for any sign of the owners coming back.
'Everything alright up here!' Castiel yelled down the chimney.
Seamus rolled his eyes and continued with what he was doing. He hadn't actually done it before, but what were the chances of it blowing up in their faces, literally?
He mumbled the words and threw a pinch of green powder into the fireplace. Rather unsurprisingly, it failed, throwing ashes out of the fireplace onto the floor and Seamus and sending a big cloud of black smoke up the chimney, right into Castiel's face. They heard the angel cough and Dean laughed at the sight of Seamus covered in ashes. The wizard glared at him.
'What happened?' Sam came in and looked from an ash covered Seamus to a, now, innocent looking Dean.
'I did nothing.' Dean said, in his own defence.
'Was that supposed to happen?' Sam asked Seamus.
'Of course not.' Seamus said, brushing himself clean of ashes. 'I must have mispronounced something…' He mumbled and picked up the piece of paper. 'Let's try that again.'
'Do you think…?' Sam began, but Seamus had already started.
He mumbled the words and threw another pinch of green powder into the fireplace. This time he edged back slightly, anticipating another burst of ashes. Instead the fireplace lit with dancing green flames. 'It worked.' Seamus laughed.
Dean and Sam exchanged confused looks, but before either could say anything, Seamus stuck his head into the flames. Dean's eyes grew big and Sam gasped. When the wizard didn't pull back his head right away the brothers walked closer. Seamus' head seemed to have disappeared in the flames. After exchanging looks Sam carefully moved his hand towards the flames, when suddenly Seamus called out Dean's name.
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After his head had stopped spinning Seamus opened his eyes. He found himself looking up at an office, lined with red and filled with beautiful wooden furniture. On the desk stood a gold plate with a name on it and he knew he was at the right place.
'Dean?' He called out carefully, nothing. He swallowed and called again, louder. 'Dean?!'
The door at the far end of the room opened. 'Yes, that'll be alright. Thank you, Megan.' In came a tall young man. His back was turned to Seamus so he could only see his suit and the back of his black hair, but he'd recognize that voice anywhere.
The man closed the door and turned around. 'Oi, Thomas.' Seamus grinned.
The man looked up and a wide grin spread on his face. 'Seamus Finnigan.' Dean Thomas, Seamus' best friend, walked towards the fireplace. 'To what do I owe the pleasure?'
Seamus' grin faded. 'Something rather unpleasant, I'm afraid. I'm in America and there is a slight problem with Susan.'
'Slight problem? She didn't reject you again, did she?' Dean joked.
Seamus didn't laugh. 'I'm serious.' Dean wanted to make another joke, but he stopped him. 'She's been abducted.'
Dean stared at him, his expression turning serious, worried. 'I wouldn't call that slight. Was it death eaters?'
Seamus shook his head. 'No, something else, long story. Look, I know you can't do much if it's not death eaters, but I need your help.'
Dean nodded. 'Of course. What can I do?'
'Can you find her for me? Find where they're keeping her, some general direction?' Seamus sighed. 'She could honestly be anywhere in the world by now.'
'I'll do my best, but I can't promise anything. Do you know if she has her wand with her?'
'It'll probably be around there somewhere, yeah.'
Dean nodded. 'I'll get the information to you as soon as possible.'
'Bout that. I won't have this fireplace available much longer, but you can call me.'
Dean shook his head. 'No, if they trace that I can say goodbye to my job.' Dean bit his lip and looked at the door. 'I know a fast track though. Where are you staying?' Seamus gave him the address of his motel room. 'Perfect, you'll probably have the information by tomorrow evening.'
Seamus smiled. 'Thanks, I owe you one.' He felt a tug on his arm, his arm which was back in America. 'I have to go.' They said their goodbye's and Seamus pulled his head back out of the fire.
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Crowley had told her not to worry and to get some sleep. Before he left he had gently touched her head. When Susan stood up after that she suddenly felt heavy, tired. She wandered back to her room and, after letting herself fall back on her bed, drifted asleep. Her head filled with strange, mangled dreams. One moment she was at her work, then walking home, then in a car, a motel room, a cellar and back at her work.
By morning she could hardly remember what had happened the days before. It was as if someone had put a whisk in her head and scrambled her memory. For some reason she had sweat profusely. She hadn't had the energy left to get changed, so she slept in last night's clothes, which were now drenched in sweat. It called for a shower.
She got up and opened the closet. Going through the clothes she pushed all pink and orange pieces aside immediately, she didn't despise the colours, but held the strong opinion they didn't look good on her. In the end she picked a pair of grey trousers and a blue shirt that reminded her of the blue dress that was part of her work uniform. She wondered where it was now, it had been in her bag when she walked home, together with her necklace and mobile phone. A customer had spilled coffee on her dress, so she had changed before going home, planning on hand washing the dress. The customer had offered to pay for dry cleaning, but she wouldn't have any of that. She hoped Crowley had kept the bag and not thrown away the necklace.
She went into the bathroom and changed out of her clothes, simply tossing them aside, except for the shirt. She turned it over in her hands and fumbled with the button-less sleeve. For a moment she stared at the loose thread, before tossing the shirt not on the ground, but in the bin.
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Susan laughed as breakfast was served. She was sitting in the dining room again, Crowley across her, again in suit. Served that morning was a full English breakfast; beans, toast, the whole lot.
'If this is an attempt to make me feel at home, it's very misplaced. I've been in America for quite some years now and I never really was a fan of beans.' She shrugged and sipped from her mug. 'I do appreciate the tea, though. It's hard to get proper English tea around here.'
'I hoped you'd like it.' Crowley smiled, not taken back by her comment on the food. 'I thought it could possibly be an opening to get to get to know more about you, as a person.'
'Me, as a person?' Susan frowned.
'Yes.' Crowley smiled as he cut up his sausages. 'Like where you grew up, your friends, family, what you like to do in your spare time.'
Susan didn't smile. 'I grew up in England.' She said blankly. 'My friends are all back in the UK. I don't have many friends here, more acquaintances. And in my spare time I don't do much.' She took a big bite of a piece of toast, an excuse not to talk.
Crowley nodded, a hint of curiosity in his eyes as she didn't mention her family. 'I don't have many friends here either.' Susan rolled her eyes and continued to stuff food in her mouth. 'What do you miss most, Susan?' Crowley asked, "casually".
'My wand.' She said, glaring up at him for a moment. His questions about her past had soured her mood.
Crowley sighed, trying not to let his irritation show. 'I see your footwear has seen better days. Would you like some new pairs of shoes?' He offered kindly. 'If you tell my associates…' He nodded at the door, meaning the demons that had again escorted her from her room to the dining room. '… your size and what kind of shoes you'd like, I'm sure we could work something out.'
'I like my boots.' Susan simply said, she had no intention of parting with the worn out pair, no intention at all. After the splinching incident in her sixth year, Susan had to wear especially tailored shoes. It was nothing big, but upon reattaching her left leg something had changed. Her big toe didn't point straight forward anymore, it pointed ever so slightly to the right. It was hard to even notice, until she put on shoes. So now Susan wore shoes tailored just for her, magically tailored shoes, that made it look like her feet were completely normal. It was a pet peeve of Susan's, she despised being bare footed around other people, and hated anyone mentioning her feet.
'I see. Well, maybe we can…'
'I'm done.' Susan stood up. 'Thank you for breakfast, I think I'll get some more sleep.' With that she turned around and walked out of the dining room, leaving Crowley behind, slightly frustrated.