"You sure you're ready to be huntin' again," Zane asks as he pulls up beside a familiar black car. "I mean, I'm not against having you in my guest room for another week." Elizabeth grabs her bag out of the backseat, going through it to make sure he hasn't stolen anything so that she'll have to come running back after it.

"I'm sure, Zane," she answers distractedly.

"We could eat spaghetti, watch some old Disney movies, or play strip poker. I'll even let you win since I know how much you like staring at my ass." With an amused grin, she reaches over and gives Zane a hug, then brushes some of his dark hair out of his eyes. They're a vivid blue, a color only Zane Daniels can pull off.

"Bye, Zane."

"See ya around, babe."

"Okay, Winchesters," she states as she slides into the Impala's backseat, throwing her duffle in the floorboard," I got good news and bad news." Both boys jerk around to face her, brows furrowed in identical looks of confusion. "Which do you want first?"

"Where the hell did you come from," Dean asks, leaning across Sam in time to see Zane speed off in his Ferrari. "And who was that?"

"Good news it is!" She leans forward with her arms over their seat, wiggling her fingers with pride. "I found a new salon in Chandler that does amazing manicures and doesn't charge an arm and a leg." She wiggles her fingers again until they actually look down. The white paint on her nails is carefully shaped to look like broken glass, the cost for it and a trim only totaling up to twenty-five bucks.

"That's great, Liza," Sam says, patting the hand closest to him. "What's the bad news?"

"The bad news is that they don't do eyebrow waxing, so I had to make Zane do mine." Dean opens his mouth, but Elizabeth beats him to the chase. "I used the GPS in Sam's phone to find you guys, Zane's the one that dropped me off, and I still can't figure out why we're in freaking Ohio of all places."

"Guy dropped dead in his bathroom the other night."

"And that's our kind of thing why exactly?"

"That's why we're at the morgue, Liza," Dean grins. "You coming with us or staying out here like a chicken?" She smacks his shoulder playfully, feeling like herself again for the first time in weeks. After crashing at Zane's house and being fed a steady diet of beer and Chicken Noodle Soup, she's ready to jump back in and kick some monster ass.

"I'll beat you to the door."

"You're on, blondie." They jump out of the car and meet at the trunk, gazes locked on the double doors of the morgue several feet away from them. "Sammy, count us down."

"It's Sam," he grumbles, then heaves a sigh. "Three… Two… One, go!" Dean and Elizabeth shoot forward in a race to touch the door handle first; he has long legs and sturdy boots, but she has the advantage of a skirt that allows a lot of freedom for her legs. Dean reaches the stairs first and she jumps onto them, taking them two at a time until she's on the little porch.

"I win," they say in unison, both of them grabbing the handle at the same time. "No, I win! You don't win anything. Stop copying me!" Sam snorts at their behavior, bumping them out of his way so he can go inside.

"I thought you two were grown adults."

"And I thought you were a normal kid until you turned into Sasquatch," Elizabeth says, walking inside with Dean beside her. The morgue is a depressing place that smells of antiseptic and feet, bringing back memories of hospital visits after Elizabeth's niece was born. The room they walk into is spacious, not much furniture other than a couple of desks that are cluttered with papers and a name plate.

"Can I help you," a bald guy questions from the far end of the room, looking excited to have someone with a pulse in the same room as him.

"Yeah," Dean nods as they come to stand in front of the guy's desk," we're the med students."

"Med students?"

"Did the doc not tell you we were stopping by today? We're from Ohio State and Fliglavitch is supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper." The guy gives a sympathetic smile, leaning slightly forward.

"Sorry, he's out at a lunch."

"Can't you just show us the body so we don't have to call him?" He goes to shake his head when Elizabeth leans down, catching his eye. "Not even for just a few minutes?"

"I-I... It's against the rules."

"Please," Elizabeth says, poking her bottom lip out in a pout. "If we don't get this paper written, then we'll probably fail. Do you know what I would have to do if I flunked out of college?" He shakes his head, completely focused on the way her boobs moves when she gives a little bounce. "I would have to become a stripper and those poles really chafe."

"I'm gay, so those mosquito bites you call boobs are doing nothing for me."

"Well, so much for my ego." Sam steps up and Dean wraps an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders, shooting the other guy a dirty look. "They're not mosquito bites."

"You're right," Dean assures her with a nod," you have really nice boobs. Some of the best natural ones I've ever felt, so don't listen to chrome dome over there." She frowns, looking down at her breasts to make sure they hadn't magically shrunk an entire cup size.

"Follow me," Baldy says, getting to his feet and leading the way to where they keep the dead guys.

"Did you show him your dick or what?"

"What," Sam asks, wrinkling his nose. "No, I paid him. Unlike you two, I'm straight." He turns to walk after Baldy with Dean and Elizabeth jogging after him.

"Paid him with what? Oh, you didn't give him my hard-earned cash, did you?" Sam doesn't say anything, but Elizabeth already knows he's grinning. "I say we shave his head while he sleeps."

"I heard that."

"You were meant to, Rapunzel." The next room they enter is smaller than the last, the autopsy room kept cold so that the stiffs don't thaw out. There's a body on one of the metal tables, covered with a white sheet, and Baldy goes straight for it.

"The newspaper said his daughter found him." Elizabeth raises a hand, intending to ask who exactly they're studying when Sam grabs a newspaper off the slab and holds it over his shoulder for her. She takes it from him with furrowed brows, wondering how in the hell he got so lucky. The obituary for the Shoemaker guy is short and sweet, stating his age, how wonderful he was, and how he was found, dead, on the bathroom floor. "Were his eyes actually bleeding?"

"More than that," Baldy says, way too excited to be gossiping about a dead guy. "They were practically liquefied." Elizabeth moves to stand between Sam and Dean to see the corpse, wincing as she catches sight of the empty eye-sockets.

"That's brutal," she murmurs, setting the newspaper back down.

"Yeah, it was." He nods with a laugh, gloved hands fiddling with the sheet," and nobody did it to him either. We're not even sure how it happened to the poor guy, but Doc's throwing his money down on an aneurysm. Something burst in there, though, no doubt about that."

"If I ask what you mean are you gonna ruin your pants?" He scowls at her, yanking the sheet back over the head and shoulders. "Hey, not my fault you look all hot and bothered talking about a corpse."

"I'm not saying anything else until Elle Woods here goes outside." Dean and Sam both turn to look at her and she lets out a noise of impatience, leaving the dorks to their murder mystery and going to sit in the Impala. At least it doesn't stink of disinfectant out here.

"That asshole just wishes he was as cool as Elle."