Dean's brow furrowed, his green eyes scanning Mae's pensive expression for any hint of what she was thinking. The scent of coffee wafted from the cup in her hands as she took a sip.
"Sam seems pretty determined to find this girl," Mae finally broke the silence.
Dean shrugged. "Standard Sam, you know? She's like him and she just went missing. So… yeah."
"You're not worried?" Dean shook his head. Mae continued. "Maybe we should have pitched in to look for her, instead of just...you know."
"Spending three days straight banging?" Dean's lips curved into a smirk.
"Yeah, instead of that." Mae chuckled a little.
"That whole thing was your idea and Sammy went along with it. It was fun though, right?" He bumped her shoulder with his, "Sam didn't pull all this together over night. He's been digging and if he needed us, he wouldn't have hesitated to stop our fun. Besides, it's not like me not eating pie off your tits would helped her."
Mae laughed before responding. "I'm not sure that helped anyone."
"Helped me."
"No, but... c'mon, you're thinkin' the same thing I am about her. Either she's dead or she killed her fiancé. And maybe we don't want to rush into getting involved with that right now?"
A somber look crossed Dean's face. "Yeah. But If the Yellow-Eyed Demon is involved, then we hafta."
"And if she's just a straight up psycho?"
Dean thought for a few moments before answering her, knowing that she wasn't asking about Ava as much as she was about Sam. "There's always a third possibility."
"What?" Mae's tone betrayed her intrigue.
"I'll let you know when I think of it. It's better to figure out what's up with her than to let one more thing surprise us with whatever these demon assholes have planned." Mae considered it but Dean wasn't sure if they were on the same page at all. "But you think they hooked up too, don't you?"
"No." Mae shook her head in disbelief. "I actually believe Sam cares about not cheating."
"He wouldn't have been cheating. She would have." Dean's words were casual, but there was a hint of annoyance at her prudishness in his voice.
Mae couldn't help but roll her eyes at Dean's nonchalant attitude towards infidelity but she was aware that he had a very different understanding of other people's relationships. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"You've never been the other woman?" Dean asked, seemingly unfazed by Mae's reaction.
"No. Well," Mae sighed. "I might have hooked up with a married guy before, but never with anyone I knew was married but I'm not exactly in the habit of doing a background check on a one-night stand. So you're fine with cheating?"
"If a chick ends up in bed with me, it's not my problem if she has a husband or a boyfriend or a girlfriend." Dean's tone was defensive. "I don't really care, to be honest."
"But…do you ever feel guilty about your part in that other situation?"
"No, why would I?" Dean shrugged, his expression unreadable, "unless she told me, how would I know?"
"So some girl comes up to you in a bar or wherever offers you all the no strings attached sex you could want, you'd just go for it?"
"No." Dean shook his head firmly. "Because that would be me cheating, you know, if we're together in this scenario. Listen, if this is what you really want to know, I'm with you and I don't want to cheat on you, Mae. I don't wanna share you with anyone else. And not for nothin' Red, I know if I ever did cheat on you, you would make me suffer in ways I couldn't even imagine."
Mae couldn't help but snort at Dean's declaration of loyalty. "Nah, I'd just leave you."
Dean paused at the door to lean in and kiss her temple. "Yeah, like I said, you'd make me suffer."
"Sure, sure. Well, maybe Ava didn't want to cheat on her fiancé either. Maybe," she suggested.
"You think that, but do you also think she's capable of cold-blooded murder?" Dean countered.
"Anything is possible," Mae replied with a shrug.
The pair entered the room as Sam was ending his call. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Ellen."
"What'd she have to say?" Dean asked, shifting into business mode as he took his keys and wallet out of his jacket pocket to place them on the table.
"Oh, she's got nothing. Me, I've been checking every database I can think of — federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava, she just . . . into thin air, you know?"
Mae and Dean exchanged a quick, knowing look that Sam didn't pick up on. "Hm." Dean replied.
"What about you?"
"No, same as before." Dean said softly, unstacking the cups of coffee he carried and handed one to Sam. "Sorry, man." He took the lid off his coffee.
"Ellen did have one thing." Sam said.
"Hmm?" Dean said as he watched Mae take a seat on the edge of the bed and sip her coffee.
"A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks." Sam took a drink too.
"How freaky?" Mae asked, intrigued.
"Yeah? What's that have to do with Ava?"
"It's a job. I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub; then a few days ago a guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty. Which isn't exactly normal, you know?"
Mae frowned, hoping for something a little more out of the ordinary but Sam was right, it wasn't normal. She let her eyes wander back to Dean as he shrugged out of his jacket. "Look, I don't know, Dean, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."
"You did?" Dean took his seat next to Mae.
"Yeah." Sam replied, "You seem surprised."
"Well yeah, it's just, you know. not the, uh, patented Sam Winchester way, is it?"
There was a mild challenge in Sam's tone, "What way is that?"
"I just figured after Ava there'd be, uh, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and -" Sam gave Dean a look, "yeah, I'll shut up now." Dean settled against the pillows on the bed, wishing Mae would hear his unspoken need and snuggle up against him.
"Look. I'm the one who told her to go back home." Sam stood, walking to the second bed. "Now her fiancé's dead and some demon has taken her off to God knows where. You know? But we've been looking for a month now, and we've got nothing. So I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not going to let other people die either. We've got to save as many people as we can."
"Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you."
Sam ducked his head with a laugh.
"This isn't some BS story you're both making up to get me to some ritzy place again, is it?" Dean asked, not disguising his hope nearly as much as he tried.
"Oh yeah because you totally hated that." Mae said sarcastically. She reached over to patch his leg. "You used you your birthday fun ticket already. Besides, I'm all outta crazy underwear."
Dean laughed and Sam grimaced. "Underwear is not a requirement I have." Dean said, a hungry gaze settling on Mae.
"Seriously? You two didn't get all that out of your system yet?"
"Not even a little. All right, call Ellen." Dean relented, "Tell her we'll take it."
The next day, they rolled into town. The rain had stopped but the roads were wet. The air was still and heavy with mist as Dean parked out in front of the Pierpont Inn. "Dude, this is sweet. I never get to work jobs like this." Dean said as they got out of the Impala.
"Like what?"
"Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog, and secret passageways ... sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside." He closed his eyes a moment. "Mmm, Daphne. Love her." Dean looked over at Mae, "hey Red, I think I've got a fun idea while we're here."
"If it involves you dressing up like Fred, I'm a no. Velma, maybe."
Dean gave her a perplexed but oddly intrigued look as she walked past him, sighing longingly.
As they walked up the steps, Sam noticed an urn on the side of the porch, pausing to inspect it. "Hey, wait a sec. I'm not so sure haunted's the problem.
"What do you mean?"
"You see this pattern here?" Sam tapped at the symbol engraved on the urn "That's a quincunx, that's a five-spot."
"Five-spot." Dean looked over at Mae but she didn't share her usual detailed explanation of what it would do or how it as used.
"Yeah." Sam said.
"That's used for hoodoo spell work, isn't it?"
"Right, yeah. You fill this thing with blood weed and you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies."
Dean looked again at Mae, who shrugged. "Yeah, it could be. Not totally sure how that connects, you know? Seems like it. I don't know, maybe it's just decor."
"Yeah, and I don't see any blood weed. Don't you think this place is a little too, uh, white meat for hoodoo?"
Sam shrugged, "Maybe. You two confer on that answer?"
Mae shook her head. "No but if they're warding off something, wouldn't it stand to reason that it was to protect folks here? I need more before I'm all in on some hoodoo offing guests."
As they entered and looked around at the quiet interior, a woman entered the foyer. "May I help you?"
"Hi, yeah, we'd like a room for a couple of nights." Dean said
As Sam moved in, a child darted in front of his legs.
"Hey!" the woman at the front desk called before turning back to Sam. "Sorry about that."
"No problem."
"Well, um, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests." the woman said.
"Well. Sounds vaguely ominous." Dean said, almost jokingly.
"No, I'm sorry, I mean we're closing at the end of the month." She paused to look at the trio. "Well, let me guess. You guys are here antiquing?"
Mae smirked a bit, tucking her head down to keep from laughing. Behind her, Sam and Dean shared a 'why not' look. "How'd you know?"
"Oh, you just look the type. So, uh, king-sized bed? Same for the lady?"
"Yes!" Mae replied, more than eagerly as they all started talking over each other.
Both brothers on the other hand were surprised by the question and implication. "What? No, uh, no, we're, we're . . . two singles. We're just brothers." Sam explained.
"She's my girlfriend. We're together together."
"Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry." the woman chuckled nervously.
Dean was rather uncomfortable with the overtone of her assumption. "What'd you mean that we look the type?" He looped his arm around Mae's waist, even knowing that it might look like he was trying to over-correct. He was glad she didn't shift further away, just because she wanted to tease him more.
The woman at the front desk tried to come up with an answer but was unable. Sam saved her from having to explain it. "You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that?"
"Oh, I have no idea, it's been there forever." She said, handing Dean a room key, "Here you go, Mr. Mahagov."
"Thanks."
She ran the bell at the front desk. "You'll be staying in room 237. Sherwin, could you show these gentlemen to their rooms?"
Dean turned to see an older, balding man in a black blazer shuffling up behind him.
"Let me guess. Antiquers?"
"They live to antique." Mae said. The annoyed look Dean gave her only broadened her grin.
Sherwin gave a confirmatory nod before taking the deceptively heavy duffel bag from Dean, dragging it behind him as they proceeded up the stairs. "I could give you a hand with that bag."
"I got it." Sherwin replied.
"Okay."
"So the hotel's closing up, huh?" Sam asked.
"Yep." Sherwin confirmed. "Miss Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame."
"Oh yeah?"
"It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace. Two different vice-presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here, I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it. Here's your room."
He slipped the key in the lock and opened the door. As Mae and Sam entered, Sherwin handed the key to Sam. Dean followed behind and turned to close the door, only to find Sherwin still standing in the entry with an extend hand. "You're not gonna ... cheap out on me, are you, boy?"
Though he was mildly annoyed, Dean shrugged an pulled out this wallet.
Sam sat in a simple, leather chair across from a small coffee table in their single room, sifting through papers. Mae was reclined on her side on one of the beds, one leg outstretched, the other pulled closer to her body. She read something on her laptop, occasionally touching the keyboard to move lower on the page. The rest of the time, her fingers mindlessly stroked the sliver of skin that peeked from the hem of her jeans.
Dean's gaze focused on that ankle, those long fingers, and all too clear memories of both on his body. Maybe they should have gotten their own room, he thought. It wasn't too late and there were certainly any number of free rooms. Although this place was hardly doing anything to set the mood.
Knowing his train of thought wouldn't lead him anywhere useful now, he resumed his pacing when Mae looked up at him, question in her eyes. It was far too distracting to work jobs with her sometimes. He chuckled as he walked near an antique wedding dress, displayed on the wall.
"What the —"
"What?" Sam interpreted.
"That's normal." He gestured at the dress, "Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long."
"Maybe some people dig hooking up in rooms full of dusty old crap."
Dean smirked at Mae's suggestion. "I mean…if I don't have to look at those things…"
Mae snorted but she knew the stuffy decor would do little to slow them down if they were genuinely in the mood. Dean walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge only to find that it was far less supportive than he anticipated and he fell off balance, into Mae's leg.
"All right." Sam started, to save himself from more of their uncomfortable flirting, "Victim number one: Joan Edison, forty three years old, a realtor handling the sale of the hotel; and victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill."
"Well, there's a connection: they're both tied up in shutting the place down."
"Yeah. Maybe somebody here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back." Sam said.
"Maybe." Mae said, unconvinced.
"Who do you think our witch doctor is, that Susan lady?"
"No, doesn't seem likely. I mean, she is the one selling."
"So what then, Sherwin?" Dean suggested.
"I don't know."
"Maybe." Mae said again, momentarily distracting Dean as she sat up and stretched her arms over her head. "He did say he practically grew up here. Guy works for tips so fewer people or new owners means he could lose everything. That's motivation. Although, I kinda liked him."
"Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we're gay?"
"Well, you are kinda butch." Sam suggested, "Probably think you're overcompensating."
Dean gave a mock laugh. "Right. Except Mae is clearly a woman. Wouldn't someone assume she's with one of us."
He felt Mae shift behind him. The bed was far too soft and old to not feel any move she made. But he couldn't fight the gratification he felt when she knelt behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder and putting her arms around him. "I get it." she said, earning frowns from the brothers, "You're both pretty men. And you've got that weird thing between you. Besides, a lot of people seem to think I'm a hooker so..."
Confusion passed over both brother's features. Dean wasn't sure where to start with her list. "You get it? Sweetheart, you know we sleep together, right? You know we're straight. Why would two gay guys bring a hooker to...here?"
Mae laughed. "Why would two dudes bring a woman here? It's weird as fuck. Listen, we can go make out in the lobby if you're so insistent on proving you're so hetero."
They decided to see what they could learn or find inside the inn. If someone was working hoodoo, there had to be more signs. They moved as quietly and discreetly as they could, without going their separate ways and clearly poking around for any clues. Sam found another vase, like the one out front and when he picked it up to examine it, found another quincunx inscribed.
"Hey. Look at that. More hoodoo."
The room next to the table and vase was marked 'Private'. Dean knocked but he was prepared to pick the lock in need be. However, the woman from the front desk, Susan, opened the door.
"Hi there."
"Hi." Susan wasn't certain what the three odd guests were doing at her door. "Everything okay with your room?"
The hunters all talked over each other with various reassurances.
"Well, I was, I was just in the middle of packing." She replied.
"Hey!" Dean said, looking past Susan, "Are those antique dolls? Because this one," He looked at Sam, daring his brother to deny the suggestion when he knew they needed to get in the room to check things out, "this one here, he's got a major doll collection back home. Dontcha? Huh?"
Sam knew better than to expect something different from his brother at this point but he was no less annoyed with the set up. Dean could have suggested it was Mae who collected dolls, but no, that wouldn't have been fun. "Big time." Sam confirmed.
"Big time." Dean repeated, "You think he could come — or we could come in and take a look?"
Susan hesitated. "I don't know ..."
"Please? I mean, he loves them. He's not gonna tell you this, but he's, he's always dressing 'em up in these little tiny outfits and, um, you'd make his day. You — she would, huh? Huh?" Dean gave her a charming smile.
Reluctantly, Sam agreed. "It's true."
"Okay." she agreed, "Come on in."
"All right. All right!" Dean said, slapping Sam on the back and following his brother in the room.
Sam only glared right back, delighting Dean. "Wow. This is a lot of dolls. I mean, they're nice, you know. Not super creepy at all."
"You never think maybe they're gonna come to life and, you know, murder you at night." Mae asked, eyeing the doll warily.
Dean hid his laugh with a weak cough but really didn't want her smart mouth getting them kicked out. This was easier than breaking in. His diversion seemed to distract Susan enough. "Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy. But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value."
"What is this? The hotel?" Sam asked as he looked over a smaller version of the inn that took up substantial real estate in the private residence of the building.
"Yeah, that's right. Exact replica, custom built." Pride was evident in Susan's voice.
Sam walked around the replica. At the back, he leaned down and picked up the broken doll with a frown. "His head got twisted around. What happened to it?"
"Tyler, probably." Susan said.
The hunters had other thoughts of possibilities running through their heads when Tyler appeared in the room, "Mommy! Maggie's being mean."
"Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay?"
"Hey Tyler." Sam addressed the girl, "I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it?"
"I didn't break it." Tyler explained, "I found it like that."
"Oh. Well, uh, maybe Maggie did it." Sam suggested.
"No, neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke 'em."
"Tyler, she wouldn't get mad." Susan stroked her daughter's hair reassuringly.
"Grandma?" Dean asked.
"Grandma Rose." Tyler explained, "These were all her toys. "
"Oh. Really." Dean said, trying to sound casual as his gaze flicked over to Mae. "Where's Grandma Rose now?"
"Up in her room." the little girl replied.
"You know," Sam interjected, "I'd, I'd uh, I'd really love to talk to Rose about her incredible doll—"
Susan cut Sam off. "No. I mean, I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick and she's not taking any visitors."
Leaving the private part of the inn, the hunters spoke in hushed tones. "Well, what do you think? Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma?"
"Well, dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo, like curses, and binding spells, and ..." Sam trailed off.
"Yeah, maybe we've found our witch doctor. Red, you wanna rain on the parade?" Dean asked, letting his fingers trail along her hip as she walked in front of him.
"Okay, bitchy. But no, seems like a good a lead as any."
"All right, we'll see what we can go dig up on boomin' Granny." He nodded to Sam, "You go get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing, see if she's whacked anybody before."
"Right."
"Don't go surfing porn - that's not the kind of whacking I mean."
Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the room as Mae and Dean walked down the hall.
Dean and Mae didn't come up with much skulking around the inn. Neither did Sam. Whatever was happening here was a recent development but aside from a few dolls and possible signs of hoodoo, there was nothing solid to work on. They were about to call it a night when they heard sirens outside of their window, followed by the muffled sounds of a disturbance in the hall.
To their surprise, they found the coroner had been called to the inn. Sam elected to stay back in the room while Dean and Mae tried to learn more about what happened as they tried to stay out from under foot.
"What happened?" Dean asked as Susan came back towards the inn.
"Oh, the maid went in to turn down the sheets and he was just . . . hanging there."
"That's awful. He was a guest?" Dean asked.
"He worked for the company that bought the place."
"Hmm."
"How long was he staying here?" Mae asked softly.
"Just the night. To sign some paper work. I don't understand." Susan said, more to herself than the pair of guests.
"What?"
"Had a lot of bad luck around here. Look, if you'd like to check out I'll give you a full refund."
"No thanks." Dean put his arm around Mae's waist, "We don't scare that easy."