"Give it back!"
"Not a chance, blondie," Sam retorts, holding the remote above Elizabeth's head and laughing when she starts jumping for it. "We're watching my show this time." While Big Brother plays in the background, Elizabeth throws her weight against Sam and forces him to fall backward on the bed, straddling his chest as she tries to wrestle the remote out of his hands. "Stop it!"
"No, I called dibs!" Sam flips them, both of them falling off the bed and to the carpeted floor with a grunt. Elizabeth continues to struggle, slapping his chest and wrapping her legs around his to gain some leverage and flip them again. "Give it up, Sammy."
"What are you doin'," Lilly asks as she walks into the guest room.
"I'm kicking Sammy's butt." She knees Sam in the side, not enough to cause any harm, but enough for him to loosen his grip. Lilly giggles when Elizabeth lets out a triumphant noise, jumping up with the remote in hand. "I've got- Ahh!" Sam tackles her to the floor again, sitting on her lower back and snatching the remote. "That's so cheating!"
Lilly, still giggling, walks over, uses Elizabeth's butt as a step-stool, and then grabs the remote out of Sammy's hand before walking out of the room. Sam and Elizabeth scramble after the blonde thief, chasing her into the kitchen in time to see Tanya setting the remote up on the refrigerator.
"You can have it back when you two start getting along," Lilly tells them. The four year old has her arms crossed over her chest, one hip popped out, and her eyebrows raised with her lips pursed. She looks exactly like Tanya does whenever she lectures people at her job.
Tanya's auburn hair is done up in an elegant bun, only a few wisps escaping, and she's dressed in a simple tank top and shorts since it's always hot in the kitchen when the stove is on. She's had Lilly since the baby was one and a half, and she always treats Elizabeth like she would a little sister.
"Traitor," Sam smiles, ruffling their niece's blonde hair. Lilly swats at him with both of her hands, poking her bottom lip out and furrowing her brow.
"Stop it, Sammy!" The doorbell rings and Tanya looks up in annoyance, blowing a stubborn strand of hair out of her face. "I got it, I got it! It's my turn this time!" Lilly takes off for the door with Sam following behind her to make sure she isn't snatched up by a weirdo. There have been a rash of robberies in Stillwater in the past month, so Lilly isn't allowed to go anywhere by herself or answer the door without an adult nearby.
"I'm so glad you're here for her birthday party," Tanya sighs, collapsing in a kitchen chair and fixing her bun. "It would've been chaos without an extra hand that knew where everything was at." Elizabeth stirs the hamburger meat to keep it from burning, sending Tanya a smile over her shoulder. "When are you guys heading out again?"
"Tomorrow morning, probably," she answers, pushing some hair behind her ear. "Uncle Bobby would live on beer if I let him." Tanya gives her a tired smile, gratefully letting her finish up the spaghetti. "When's Darren coming back from his trip?"
"Sometime in the next few days." Lilly comes running back into the kitchen, grinning and tugging a man with her by the hand. Instead of Sam like Elizabeth is expecting, Noah Archer is standing with Lilly and Sam's bringing up the rear. "Noah," Tanya greets coldly. "Why are you here this time?"
"I have a job for Elizabeth and her two sidekicks," he shrugs, passing his daughter twenty dollars for her piggy bank. That's a requirement if Archer wants to keep seeing Lilly, twenty dollars every visit that will go towards Lilly's college fund. "It's right up our alley and I think Liza will have a field day with it." He nods at the hallway and then sends a pointed look from Lilly to Elizabeth before nodding again.
"Fine," Elizabeth grumbles, shutting the kitchen door on her way out. The three of them gather together in the living room, Sam turning up the volume of the TV in case Lilly tries to eavesdrop. "What's the case, Archer?"
"You remember that tiny town that always beats us in football, but is crushed in softball?" Elizabeth nods, gesturing for him to speed things along. "Well, apparently there's a guy in medieval clothing that's lopping off people's heads if they're out past midnight and don't make it to a certain bridge in time." It takes her a moment to register his words, adding up the details with the town's name and quickly growing excited enough to let out a short squeal. After that there's part of her that really wants to kick something because, really? The Headless fucking Horseman?
"We're going to Sleepy Hollow to kill the Headless Horseman, aren't we?"
"We are indeed." Elizabeth lets out another short squeal, fighting the urge to jump. "She's been wanting to hear those words since she found out about hunting." Not wanting to wait any longer than necessary, Elizabeth bolts out of the living room and up the stairs to the guest room she and Dean claimed a few days ago. He's in the middle of cleaning his gun when she bursts inside, looking amused as she just stands there grinning at him.
"Do I have to guess what's made you so happy or are you going to tell me," he questions with a smile of his own.
"Sleepy Hollow," she says with a bounce. "We've got a case in Sleepy Hollow!"
"Isn't that the town Davenport crushes in softball every year?"
"That's not the point, but yes." Elizabeth drops onto the bed, sitting with her knees under her so that she's got the high ground when she rests her hands on Dean's shoulders. Well, high mattress at any rate. "The point is that the Headless Horseman—the Headless Horseman—is killing teenagers and we get to go play ghostbusters! This is the greatest day of my life! How are you not as excited as I am?"
"Sorry, Liza, I must've put on my big boy underwear by mistake." She swats at his shoulder, but she's still smiling and her cheeks are beginning to hurt. "Weren't you the one that said you'd kick something if we had to face the Headless Horseman this year? You know, after the whole Bloody Mary and Hook Man cases?"
"Totally, that feeling is buried under giddy excitement right now. This is the greatest—"
"Moment of your life, yeah, I got that, Liza." He puts his gun back together with a careful ease, flicking his gaze back up to her when he's nearly finished. It's nice to have him looking up at her for a change. Usually that only happens when she's straddling him and Sam has fucked off to do whatever it is he does when he's been kicked out of the motel room. "Who gave you the good news?"
"Ah…" Elizabeth's excitement dims slightly and gives her answer muffled in a cough. "Noah Archer."
"I'm sorry, I don't speak cheesy cover up."
"Noah Archer." Dean's good mood vanishes and he slides the last few pieces home harder than is necessary before setting the pistol down on the bedside table. "Look, he might not even come with us to work this one, and Lilly's just starting to get used to him, so don't screw things up by knocking his teeth down his throat."
"Oh please, I'm classier than that." Dean gets up and makes it to the door before Elizabeth speaks up again.
"You can't put your boot up his ass either."
"Now you're just being mean." With a knowing smile, she walks over to him and rises up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. She makes sure to use a seductive tone, one that usually has him weak at the knees and drooling.
"Do something I don't approve of and I'll make sure you don't get laid for a week, sweetie pie." Smacking his ass on the way out, her smile widens into a satisfied grin. His expression is one of lust and reluctance and it leaves her happier than the case does.
"So mean."
Dean looks around curiously at the small town, noting how few people are outside on the unusually warm day. The few that are outside are all pale and looking around the fearfully like they think the Headless Horseman is waiting just around the corner. The gentle purr of the Impala's engine gains attention from the people outside and inside alike as they drive through the town at a slow crawl.
"Well, this is pleasant," Dean remarks.
"There's been five deaths in one night, Dean," Elizabeth responds quietly," that kind of thing leaves a big impact on towns like this one." Dean has no doubt about that, he knows how close-knit people are in small communities—everybody knows everyone and there are rarely any secrets that aren't public knowledge. He uses the rearview mirror to look at Elizabeth, noticing the way she stares out her window with a frown. For her to be so excited about this case, she's also sad about the high death toll.
"Are you sure this is the place," Dean asks uncertainly. There's no way in hell that this can be the right address.
"Yeah," Archer nods as Dean stops in front of an old colonial style home, Archer having to look at the brass address plaque screwed into one of the gray brick columns that supports a wrought iron gate. The gate itself is opened inward and has designs of leaves decorating around the large JC welded into the iron.
Dean presses on the gas to get them moving again, the driveway better paved than the street they leave behind. The driveway is the type that circles back to the gate, but part of it branches off to the right and leads to a two-car garage. The bit in the middle that isn't paved has a large fountain with a stone cupid on the top tier that's spurting water from the tip of its bow.
Dean parks the car in front of the porch steps, gazing up at the intimidating structure uncertainly. The wraparound porch and steps are made of expensive white Pine and there are Greek columns that supports the overhanging roof.
"This place has had a lot of work done to it since the last time I was here," Archer says, impressed.
"When did you ever live in Sleepy Hollow," Sam asks, turning in his seat to face Archer.
"Jackson Cranston is my mom's second ex-husband. I used to spend my summers here after camp let out until the two divorced and she married a guy with more money."
"He met Dana when he lived here," Elizabeth adds. "They were both seventeen at the time." Dean frowns at the mention of Elizabeth's older sister, knowing she's a sore subject most of the time. "Let's get this over with."
Elizabeth is the first one out of the car with Dean right behind her and the others following after him, each of them moving up the short set of steps and up to the two front doors. Dean can't be sure, but he thinks they're made of cherry wood with a small pane of stained glass in the two doors that allows Dean a small glance inside.
Archer reaches past everyone to ring the doorbell, moving to the very back of their group when Dean shoots him a glare. The man that opens the door for them is around Sam's height with short blond hair and blue eyes that speak of how stern he is. There are bags under his eyes and he's so pale that he's nearly ashen in color.
"Good morning, Mister Cranston," Archer greets, no longer looking so confident. He has shrunken in on himself, looking more like the teenager Dean remembers lurking around the older Mayson sister.
"Noah," Cranston greets stiffly. "Who are your guests?" Despite being from Oklahoma, he has one of those snobby upper-crust accents and a tendency to look down his nose at everyone. Dean half-expects and really hopes that Cranston's face will stick in his expression of disdain with his eyes nearly crossed, it'll make Dean's month if that happens because he can already tell that he and Cranston aren't going to get along.
"This is Elizabeth Mayson, Sam Winchester, and Sam's older brother Dean." Archer points at each of them in turn, voice soft and barely heard. Cranston sweeps his critical gaze over each of them, the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown. Obviously this guy isn't fond of meeting new people. Then again, Dean isn't sure he'd look impressed if three people he doesn't know showed up on his doorstep dressed in what Cranston must see as rags either.
While Archer looks presentable in a pair of ironed pants and a polo shirt, Dean and the others must look like trash. Sam is dressed in a pair of ripped jeans, a simple tee, a red and black plaid shirt over the tee, and sneakers; Elizabeth's in a pair of black pants, a Jurassic Park sweater, and boots; and Dean is in his usual faded jeans, AC/DC tee, leather jacket, and biker boots. The guy in front of them has dressed in suit pants, a crisp white shirt that's rolled up to his elbows, and shiny black shoes that look like they cost more than Dean's car.
"Yes, well, I suppose all of you should come inside, then." Their group file into the entrance hall, a grand staircase a few paces in front of them that leads to the second floor of the house, three doors on their right and two on their left, and then two French doors set on either side of the staircase. The staircase itself is the type you'd see in a movie like The Haunted Mansion with a banister that seamlessly joins the railing of the second floor landing. "This way and please refrain from touching anything.
Dean opens his mouth with a retort when Elizabeth beats him to it. "Stuff it, Lestat." Sam lets out a snort of laughter as they follow Cranston through the second door on their right, finding themselves in a parlor decorated with those fancy rugs from overseas and knick-knacks that cover the shelves set into the walls.
Two women are seated together on a loveseat, both trying not to cry and holding each other closely, a man that could be Cranston's twin is seated in an armchair with a bottle of beer in his hand, and two teenage boys are standing together in front of a window, talking in quiet voices that can barely be heard over the crackling of flames in the fireplace.
"Dear," Cranston says," you remember my step-son." The woman with dark blonde hair looks up at the group, her eyes red-rimmed and sore. Mrs. Cranston gives a brief nod in Archer's direction before bringing the tissue back up to her eyes as new tears stream down. Dean, uncomfortable around crying women, sidesteps closer to Elizabeth and is suddenly grateful that his friend hates crying if she can help it. "These are his companions—Elizabeth, Dean, and Sam."
"Kayla," Archer greets with a nod in the woman's direction. It's weird seeing this side of Archer, but he can certainly get used to it if it means he isn't making lewd comments in Zane's direction. "Anne." The other woman, dark haired with the kind of beauty that everyone notices all at once, nods at Archer before wrapping her arms around Kayla and rocking her back and forth.
"Boys, come introduce yourselves." As the two boys by the window make their way over, Cranston points at a man that looks to be the older version of him. "This is my brother-in-law, Ryan Crandall and his son, Luka." Cranston gestures from the man in the chair to the youngest of the boys. He looks like to be sixteen or seventeen and is a little on the scrawny side compared to the boy next to him. His dark hair is cut short and he has glasses that keep sliding down his nose. "This is my boy Tyson." The other boy has shaggy blond hair that matches his father's, dark brown eyes, and a build that suggests he'd played Quarterback in football.
"Nice to meet you three," Ryan says respectfully, less judging than Cranston. "Jackson, why don't I show them to where they'll be staying?" His jaw clenched tightly, Cranston gives a curt nod and sends the group a suspicious glare. "This way, please." Dean follows Ryan out of the parlor, relaxing a bit when he feels Elizabeth's hand slip into his. She almost always manages to calm him down, her mothering nature soothing when he's usually around testosterone-ruled men.
They follow Ryan up the staircase and to the left down a long hall lit by low-burning oil lamps with a few family portraits hanging on the walls. "That's kinda old fashioned, isn't it," Dean wonders, pointing at the closest portrait.
"It's a family tradition, I guess. Every generation gets their own portrait that hangs in the main house." Ryan pauses outside of one of the doors, pushing it open and leading the way inside, flipping on the overhead light as he goes. "This will be your room, Elizabeth. Is it to your liking?"
The room is on the large side with its own fireplace opposite a four-poster bed that has crimson and gold bed curtains, a wardrobe on the right of the fireplace, a door on the wall right of the bed that leads into a bathroom, and there are two French doors across the room that lead out to a terrace large enough to hold a simple chair.
"Yeah," Elizabeth answers, looking around in slight awe. "This is great, Mister Crandall, thank you." Ryan waves a hand with a grimace.
"Call me Ryan, it doesn't make me feel as old." She grins at him, her hands stuffed in the back pockets of her jeans. "Dean, you'll be in the room next door, so you'll share a bathroom with Elizabeth, and you two will be just across the hall. Noah, you know which room is yours and I'm sure you can show your friends around."
"Um, what did you mean the main house," Sam asks, leaning against the wall. He's completely at ease, thumbs hooked in his belt loops with his fingers half-inside his jean pockets. "Is there another one?"
"There is." Ryan nods with a fond smile, clearly proud of his heritage. "The oldest child in my family, Kayla, gets the main house, while the second oldest gets the house next door. Mine isn't as large or nice as this one, but it's homey. My wife, son, and I will be staying here to help out while the others grieve. Their daughter was one of the first murdered by—" It seems as though Ryan is having difficulty saying the words Headless Horseman.
"Ghost," Dean supplies.
"I suppose I'll have to get used to saying that, won't I?" He shakes his head, running his fingers through his untidy gray hair before walking over to the door. "Supper is served at five in the dining room, you shouldn't have too hard a time finding it." As Ryan walks out of the room and back down the hall, Elizabeth moves to look out of the French doors at the darkening skyline just beyond the trees that make up the back fence of the Cranston's yard.
"I hope they have some pie."