theshot_yougot | (no subject)

(no subject)

Leah wanted her flat to be empty for a reason. Even now, after furnishing it herself - with a lot of help from Sam and the Birds, she'll admit - it's very sparsely furnished with the absolute minimum of furniature. Even the main room, which is rapdily filling up with computers and one work bench for a variety of projects, is pin-prick organised in a way to make any obsessive compulsive proud.

She still has contact with Oracle, of course, and days spent alone except for the radio aren't the pain they used to be, not when she can lie back on her own hand-picked sofa, with Tschaikovsky playing at a low level.

It's still a little lonely, of course.

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Sam doesn't stop by as much as he could, really. If she doesn't invite him, he's hesitant about coming over. There are a few reasons for this. Sam hasn't offered any of them.

But there is a knock on her door today.

And she hasn't really asked. She assumes he has better things to do and it hasn't come up in conversation.

But she's always up for answering the door. The music is turned down further with a remote, and in a short time she's at the door, although not opening it yet. Instead, she just calls through the wood:

"Who is it?"

"It's Sam."

He'd be worried if she didn't ask who he was before answering the door.

Give her a few months with the electronics she keeps bothering people for, and she'll have a speakerphone at the door. She'd like face or voice pattern recognition, but that's a pipedream.

Right now, though, the door's being swung open enthusiastically, and she's grinning as she stands back.

"Hey. Come on in. Just don't touch anything. You've no idea how much is messes with me if things get moved."

There's a pair of sunglasses on the table in the hallway, but she hasn't bothered with it for him. He can deal with the scars.

He hasn't complained yet.

Sam grins and steps inside, careful to stay away from furniture. "I found a few more books, if you want them," he offers, glancing around the apartment appraisingly. "How're you doing?"

It's a mostly sparse apartment, and where there are things, they're laid out deliberately and squarely, the whole set up for which means Leah can move around freely. Her contracted cane swings from her belt as she walks, in a much easier and less hesitant way than he would have seen her at the farm.

It's thrown off by Sam standing right there, but she touches his arm gently as she moves past him, leading the way into the living room.

"I'm doing great. Even better when people bring me books. You're too good."

There's a bookshelf in this room, with a stereo on top of it, and a sofa and armchair either side of a coffee table. It's to the sofa Leah gestures now.

"You want a drink?"

Sam grins, lifting his arm if she wants to take it. "Don't start complimenting me yet, you might hate the books. All I know about them is that they're in braille."

He moves toward the sofa when she gestures to it, taking a seat with the books set onto the cushion next to him. "Yeah, sure, I'll have a drink."

She doesn't take his arm, only because she doesn't need it, hearing him sit before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Tea, coffee, beer?" she calls out. "It's American: cold and everything."

"Beer," Sam calls back, amused at her description. "I never got drinking it warm, sorry."

He leans back against the couch, an arm stretched across the back. He can't see her in the kitchen but he can at least look in the basic direction. "What've you been doing?"

And she returns! With two cold beers (and OK, they're Coronas, so not actually American, but she can't read the labels) and a bottle opener, which she offers in his rough direction before coming around the coffee table to sit at the opposite end of the couch.

"Setting up shop, mostly. Got a work room back there with my computers. Talking to O and the Birds to get a hang of their styles, working on the networks."

...

"Actually, I'm bored as hell. What about you?"

He laughs a little for the amendment, taking both beers along with the opener if they're offered. "Research," he explains, popping the tops and handing hers back, just holding the bottle at first. It's cold outside, but cold glass against his palm is soothing somehow.

"Dean's got that job, I think I told you about it? Except instead of exorcising the spirit, we're trying to help it back into it's own body. Which is, um... not what we do. Usually."

"Yeah that just sounds weird," she says. "Is it like reverse possession - get the occupying spirit out and let her possess her body back again?"

"That's about it, yeah," Sam agrees with a sigh. He's been frustrated - research was hard enough when he had the internet at his disposal, and now?

"We're hunters, not witches. Even if I can find a way to do it, I'm not sure we'll actually be able to."

"Hmmmm."

Leah draws her feet up onto the couch in front of her hips, and swigs her beer.

"But you can exorcise OK?"

"Yeah."

It's said quickly, offhand. Exorcising isn't something they have a problem with, especially not Sam.

"It's helping her re-possess I'm not sure of."

She wasn't expecting any problems with that, but it was worth a thought.

"Maybe she can just go in, y'know? I've never meddled, but I was always under the impression that possessing was the easy part."

"Well, you'd think so," Sam agrees with a tip of his head, taking a gulp of his beer right after, "but it gets tricky. Especially since she's a spirit, but not any kind I've ever heard of. Vengeful spirits linger and attack people, cause trouble. This one's just wandering around in search for her body. And honestly, I've never come across a displaced spirit that couldn't stay in the body with the invader, or didn't die as soon as it was possessed.

"And there's always the possibility that even if we find her body, she won't know how to get back in."

"She's not from your world," Leah points out. "I'd be surprised if the same laws of metaphysics applied. But you've not found relevant books here?"

She's thinking hard, but there's a lilt in her voice; Leah's making herself feel useful, and it rocks.

It's entirely possible that Sam came to her for a fresh set of eyes (so to speak) on an old situation. It's also possible that he missed her company, and just as possible that he was worried about her.

Possibly.

"The problem is that I'm not sure what the laws would be in our world," Sam points out, leaning forward to set his elbows on his knees, beer dangled in his fingers. "So I don't really have anything to go off of but theories. So far as I know, no hunter's ever tried to get a spirit back in."

Assuming they could get ahold of the spirit in the first place, assuming the body was still in good shape.

~~No hunter but Sam.~~

"Shame you can't interrogate the spirit possessing her," Leah muses. "There's someone has the knowledge."

Sam nods, thoughtful. "Yeah... I'd like to talk to the girl first and see what she remembers. I'll have to check on Dean for that, I don't know much of the details."

"Not talked to her yet?"

Leah taps the neck of her bottle, thoughtfully.

"She's your only eye witness to the first thing."

"Some of the details I don't know are her name, who she hangs out with, and what she looks like," Sam replies with a sheepish smile. He nods at her comment, though, bottle lifted to take a drink. "I know. Dean's been doing some research of his own," or hanging out with Jo, Sam isn't exactly sure which, "and I wanted to get at least a working theory before we talked to this girl. No reason giving her false hope."

Leah snorts. "Hope someone knows more than that.

"Yeah, I'm all for being prepared, but I'm a fan of info as well, y'know? Sometimes you don't know what's best for a situation 'til you're in it."

Smirking a little, Sam nods and finishes off his beer. The bottle clinks when he sets it on the coffee table and he leans back against the couch. "Dean knows the girl, or her friend. We'll get to it."

"Keep me informed," Leah tells him. It's an interesting task and she likes being helpful.

And at the same time, she finishes her drink, sets it on the coffee table and turns to sit sideways on the couch, facing him.

"OK, where are these books."

Sam nods, looking at her curiously. "Do you want to come with us?"

The book request makes him grin and reach for them, two or three volumes entirely in braille.

"You think there's a need for me?"

Leah's both happy about this and doubtful.

"I could be a liability if things get hairy."

Like dangerous angry ghosts.

"I think you sound bored here and interested with the job," Sam replies with a shrug. "We've got three cars and four people. Plenty of room."

He saw her with the zombies. She wouldn't be that much of a liability.

In which case, she grins.

"Sounds brilliant, I'd love to go!"

Swallowing a laugh for her excitement, Sam nods and grins at her. "I'll let Dean know, we'll come and get you before we leave."

He'd perhaps understand if he knew how much her friends kept her shut up after the incident.

"Great. That means a lot tome, Sam."

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