I do not own Supernatural and don't gain anything material by writing this story.

Chapter 4

And then the phone rang. Sam looked uncertainly into the mirror while it began to explain about the country of Tajikistan. Whatever this thing was, it didn't seem too hostile at the time. Unless it's methods involved boring people to death. Slowly, careful not to make sudden movements, he brought the phone out of his pocket and answered.

"Yeah?"

"Dude, this place gives me the creeps. Where are you?"

"Still in the… library."

"Find anything?"

"In a matter of speaking, yeah. You should really come here. There's this – I don't even know. Just get here as soon as possible, Dean."

"You ok?"

"I'm fine. Look, just get here."

"On my way."

Sam hanged up. The mirror declared: 'Beowulf – a Russian translation", recited two lines, apparently in Russian, and switched to Freddy Mercury's biography. There were at least ten minutes to spare now, and the random lectures were getting a quite annoying. Sam raised his hand and waved. The mirror did what mirrors do best and waved back.

Starting to feel a little frustrated, the younger Winchester decided to ignore the little voice in his head telling him to be cautious, and reached a hand to touch the chatty piece of furniture. The reflection blurred for a moment and then came back, only this time Sam didn't see himself. Instead, he saw a pale, smiling old man, waving with one hand and gesturing something with the other. Sam took a step back. The guy's hand gestures became wilder. A moment later realization dawned on the young man. He took a step forward and touched the mirror one more time. The image blurred and now Sam saw himself again, with the smiling man standing behind him. He turned around. There was nobody there.

"It's no use. We're on different planes of existence, you see."

Dean was driving towards the library, getting more anxious by the second. He kept telling himself, that Sam sounded more puzzled than worried, and therefore wasn't in any immediate danger. It didn't really help. So all in all, walking into the building to find his little brother talking to himself (and not, say, bleeding on the floor or inhabited by a fallen angel) was perhaps unnerving, but still tolerable. And then a voice informed him that the best truffles can be found in a cemetery in Finland, though they are guarded by the dead.

"…Sammy?"

"Oh, hi Dean. Didn't hear you come in."

"Yeah, I can see you were keeping yourself…busy."

The younger man gave him a funny look.

"I've been …" his eyes suddenly opened with realization. He smacked himself on the forehead.

"I completely forgot you can't see him yet. Listen, you got to touch the mirror. Twice, ok? This will stop the random chatter, and we can all talk."

"Talk? With…"

"You hear the thing spouting random facts, right? But if you're touching it, this guy appears…"

"A guy? Inside a mirror? You know we didn't have the best history with mirrors until now?"

"You're exaggerating. And I'm fine. Just do it, nothing will happen."

Dean realized it was the second time today that he was treated like a grade school kid. He sighed, and with a look that said 'I surrender myself to insanity', touched the glassy surface. It immediately stopped its explanation about Napoleon's connection to the Moon people, and its reflection blurred. A moment later, he waved back at a strange, smiling old man.

"Well," the mirror guy said, "If no one else is expected to join the party, we can begin."

"Begin what?" Dean asked cautiously.

"You find everything here quite curious, admit it," the man's eyes twinkled in the dim light of the library, "Me, the town's people, the young woman who's disappearance you're investigating."

The brothers shared a worried look.

"You are not going to ask me anything? I am really quite disappointed, Mr. Dean Winchester… Mr. Samuel… Winchester."

"What the…" Dean said while both he and his brother took a few steppes away.

"How –how do you know our names?" Sam asked.

"Your names, dear boys, are the least interesting fact I know about you. Your life and your quest. Your few victories, and many misfortunes. As with all things in the mortal realm, I have been looking, and recording. I know everything that has happened. That is my purpose."

"Your…purpose?" Sam said, his voice slightly louder than a whisper, "What are you? What's going on?"

"Can't you guess?"

Dean looked at his little brother. Sam scratched his head, and shook his head.

The guy's eyes twinkled again as he smiled at them.

"Today's young people have no imagination. An all-knowing mirror, of course! And an excellent one too, if I may add."

The angel was still feeling as if he wandered into a parallel dimension. He could not have found a stranger place in the entire creation, and yet apparently his Father has been here, and not a long time ago, judging by the amulet's warmth.

The place was lit only by the small lamps standing on each table, yet he could see every detail in the room quite clearly. The air smelled of chocolate ice cream. Castiel didn't know where that piece of knowledge came from. Perhaps from Jimmy's consciousness. Perhaps not. It didn't matter. It was a nice feeling. To relax, for ones. He quietly followed the floating waitress, and sat behind a small table, already set for one.

"What would you like to order?"

"I would like… to order... Ice – cream. Chocolate ice – cream, please. With chocolate chips."

"Coming right up," the specter smiled.

"However," Castiel continued, "I do not carry any currency."

"Don't worry about it, buddy. Chocolate ice – cream it is!"

A/N: Free ice – cream? This IS heaven! And Sam and Dean really don't have any imagination. If it's a mirror and it knows everything, than it's an all – knowing mirror, duh.

And sorry I didn't update. I've been swamped with work, and just couldn't find the time or the energy to write more than five sentences per day.