Chapter One: One late afternoon on August 7th, 2006

»There's someone I'd like you to meet.«

»And in the spirit of full disclosure though, I should probably mention that she ain't the greatest fan of our kind. Probably, because any deity who doesn't get the munchies upon spotting her, usually tries to hook her up with a pretty leash'n'collar set. Sooo you could say that she isn't as fond of that side of her family.«

»In the end,she's a freak by your standards and a perfectly innocent oddball by mine. She— well, let's just say that we're still not quite sure what kinda magic swirl she is, but I can promise you one thing… At some point —let's say sooner rather than later— she's going to piss you off. Genuinely and royally piss you off; without even an ounce of ill will, mind you.«

»And I'm not even tryina be funny here. Bets, she's — She has this thing where she just reads everyone like a damn book.«

»Worst part is that she won't even judge you for what she sees. She'll just trigger your inner conscience when you least expect it — ah, scratch that! She will tear into it 'til you decide that you really don't like her cause that's just so much more convenient. Next thing you know is that you're making up some ridiculous excuse to avoid her in the future. Believe me, I would know.«

»So, I guess, what I'm tryina to say is that Betsy has always been weird like that — if not twice as much since that demon scum got to her… «

»Buuut how about you show me one person, deity, being —whatever, really— in this crazy ass world that you could actually call normal and get away with it! I mean… normality's just another convenient lie made for people who need such cuddly thoughts to put them to beddy at night — all of those deadheads who believe that this 'hot or cold, black or white' kinda thing is still all the rage nowadays.«

»It's because she just doesn't fit into any of their categories — hell, can't really say she fit into one of mine either, 'cause she's so freakin' meddlesome.«

»It's— … See, it's what makes her a royal pain in the ass, but she's my pain in the ass and that's the best excuse anyone's ever gonna get for being obnoxious like that.«

»So, if you can find it in yourself to let her in, I can promise you that she'll light you up like the aurora borealis does with the northern skies, gorgeous. You'll feel tall, powerful and raw with the sheer beauty of things… Just like the good ol' days, Kali.«

»Now, mind, she's a little blinding at first, but please, by all means, just squint those lovely browns of yours and don't turn your back on her. After all, this is your chance to meet someone very special.«

— Loki, speaking to Kali just before introducing the goddess to Liz in 1952

Since it wasn't exactly a common occurrence to find a stranger sitting at Bobby's kitchen table, the salutatory gun pointing at the blonde's head happened to be Dean's versatile version of being 'better safe than sorry'.

Especially since he could tell with just one glance at the woman's profile that she was no more a hunter than he'd ever pass as one of Jehovah's Witnesses. If anything, she was the one looking like someone had accidentally copy-pasted her from some suburban church's community flyer right on top of one of Bobby's kitchen chairs.

Had she been one of them… well, let's just say there'd be hell to pay for sneaking up on a huntress like that.

With that in mind, the brothers slowly inched their way into the small room; all the while looking for more unexpected visitors as well as the man of the house himself. Sam, having fallen back to check the staircase, couldn't help but notice that —except for the usual mess of strewn papers and texts— the rooms had been given a very thorough cleaning at some point in the last two days. The hardwood looked polished, the tiles of the kitchen bare of the usual sandwich crumbs… and then there was this strange blond woman in the midst of it.

Still unable to locate Bobby, however, the Winchesters shared one meaningful look before aiming both their growing suspicion and weapons at the only available scapegoat — or rather the back of her head since she was currently facing away from them.

It certainly didn't help that the woman just sat there with pretty much the same justification as those dusty tomes towering on the chairs to her right and left; one hand turning the heavily yellowed pages while the other one stayed curled around a steaming mug nestled between stacks of library print-outs.

'She looks young'Sam couldn't help but think just as he noticed how Dean seemed to be mere seconds away from jumping to quite a different conclusion. It wasn't helping that the woman calmly moved to take a sip of tea rather than offer them some sort of explanation as to why she was the one awaiting them.

And she had to have noticed them…

Their car had backfired so many times on the last miles that Dean had sworn this alone would get the police on their heels — never mind that they'd taken their dead father's body from the morgue so they could burn it on a huge pyre…

All things considered, Sam shouldn't have been surprised when the one thing that finally ticked his brother off happened to be the fact that the strange woman simply chose to ignore them.

"Just who the fuck are you?" Dean demanded to know as he finally moved to circle her; trying to catch a glimpse of her face.

After the older Winchester had spent hours cramped inside a randomly jacked car together with his brother —the one person Dean could never tell out about their father's last request— he didn't care as much for polite chit-chat.

To say Dean had been desperate to reach the sanctuary of Bobby's scrapyard would have been a bit of an understatement. It had been the first and only option that had made any sense.

Now, however, there was this strange woman, sitting in his chair at Bobby's kitchen table —a seemingly insignificant detail that bothered him no less— and pretended like they didn't even exist.

In answer to his anger, Dean's finger tensed around the trigger of his gun once she paused in her reading. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean noticed how Sam's gaze flitted towards the open doors of the living room and back towards the entrance and stairs.

"I said, who the goddamn fuck are you?!"

Part of Dean even wanted to ignore the fact that he hadn't noticed the telltale signs of a fight — something which Bobby would have been sure to put up. He just wanted an excuse to do something. To take action and loosen that damn thing that would tighten around his chest whenever he stopped to think.

However, almost as though the woman had been able to sense the direction Dean's thoughts had taken, she finally turned to acknowledge them. And there was just something about her gaze that prompted the younger of the two Winchesters to lower his dagger.

Sam couldn't quite tell whether it was the somewhat unruly halo of wispy blond hairs framing her heart shaped face, or the look of childish innocence that made him do so. It just surprised him to see such artlessness on the face of a person who so obviously wasn't a stranger to find herself at the wrong end of a barrel.

Her eyes travelled between the two of them, seemingly indecisive of what should be done about those weapons pointed at her.

"Oi, I asked you a question!" Dean barked loud enough that it would make anyone jump. She however didn't. And similar to how the blonde simply refused to be intimidated by the armed men before her, she showed absolutely no inclination to introduce herself.

Eyes darkening, Dean took another step forward; his tense figure growing at the mercy of his thinning patience, "Listen here, you freakin' barbie doll! If you don't—"

"How about ya drop the pleasantries, Dean? Might as well just pour that holy stuff on her if ya really think I'd allow one of those black-eyed bastards to just merrily skip over my doorstep" Bobby's gruff voice interrupted them none too kindly as he emerged from the cellar with another stack of books in his arms — looking decidedly unenthusiastic about having to remedy the situation.

He stared at the brothers with an expression that clearly told them to either give him a good reason for their dramatics — or just drop their act altogether. "Now put that damn gun away, boy, or we'll juts have to see how ya like nosing the end of mine. There're no special rules for frequent nuisances — a guest's a guest."

To Dean's credit, it only took him about a split second to change from his positively threatening demeanor to one of poorly veiled annoyance.

"Guest? Since when do you invite people over for freakin' tea parties?" Dean complained, even if he did eventually stow away his gun — if only so he could properly cross his arms as he sided with his brother to wait for an explanation.

Sam couldn't help but notice that the body language of Bobby's guest had visibly changed when the older hunter had introduced her as such. While the soft look remained on her face, her fingers tightened their grip around her tea mug as she regarded Bobby carefully.

"Well, that was before you boys came around deciding to be all charming and polite, you dimwit!" the older hunter retorted as he walked over to the woman who met his exasperated eye-roll with a small smile on her lips. "Sorry 'bout them, dear. Here you go."

Instead of taking a look at the growing pile of tomes in front of her, however, the woman focused her expectant gaze on Bobby, who, at some point, had moved to stand in front of her — effectively shielding her from the Winchester's inquiring stares.

When the silence remained, Dean's sceptic frown only deepened. Unsure whether to jump into action here, he threw a glance to Sam who gave an unsure half-shrug. It wasn't like he knew what to make of this situation either — not to mention that Bobby himself was behaving somewhat strangely.

"How 'bout you explain this to us then, Bobby?" Dean finally suggested; already fed up with having to deal with this on top of everything else. Pressing two fingers to where he felt a major headache building beneath his temple, he added, "When I called, you didn't mention anything 'bout hosting the local church's book club tonight."

While Dean had not cared whether or not he came across as rude before, he now fully intended to show blondie just how much he appreciated meeting her. That he felt slightly bad about succeeding so easily —she really looked like his words made her uncomfortable— was something he simply shoved down with all of his other emotions.

It could hardly be his fault that she'd overstayed her welcome.

Bobby, however, seemed to know exactly what Dean was up to, "Look, Dean, I get it. And I am sorry that this came up now, but I ain't gonna turn people away who come to me for help. I know what I signed up for and so do you!"

With his jaw set defiantly, Dean simply refused to let Booby win the ensuing staring contest. Especially when a small hand suddenly made an appearance on Bobby's arm; giving it a slight squeeze before the rest of the person appeared beside the salvage yard owner — fully presenting herself for the first time.

And then, it all just clicked.

Her strangeness, Bobby's attempts to shield her from them…

This wasn't just some small town poster girl. This was actually so much worse.

While Bobby's guest happened to be on the short side, there was something about her figure that made her appear frail in the dim light of the kitchen. Her skin looked pale next to the hunter's tan, even when her soft, perky features brightened as she regarded them with unguarded curiosity; a picture of perfect ingenuousness dressed in an old-fashioned pale summer dress.

Dean had to admit that she was pretty, though in an elfin way that he didn't really care for. Especially since the hunter in him immediately recognized the otherworldliness about her. Not the kind that promised immediate danger but a strange sort of radiance that just spelled trouble and Dean didn't want any of that standing this close to Bobby.

Taking a more offensive stance Dean sent a meaningful glance at the salvage yard owner; his eyebrows raised impossibly high while his jaw worked hard to keep the accusations from pouring out, "The fuck this is, Bobby? You just said you wouldn't let any of that black-eyed scum inside!"

It was obvious that his patience would only last for so long now that he'd figured it out and Sam shifted in accordance to the new tension in the room; his eyes glued to the form of the supernatural being before them. Though the younger Winchester had a feeling that it wasn't another demon they were dealing with…

The dimly lit kitchen however only seemed to further add to the contrast between the worn hunter and the… thing. Even if the female creature made it quite obvious that she felt perfectly at ease here — faced with three hunters and the possibility of winding up as this evening's casualty.

"Boys, this is Liz" Bobby introduced her — still somewhat reluctant. It almost seemed as if he had a vague premonition that he would come to regret ever having brought them together. "She's an ol' friend of mine and certainly no demon. Liz, I told you about Dean and Sam."

While the Winchesters didn't exactly bother to hide their alarmed suspicion, the thing called Liz smiled warmly at them — dimples quick to form on her pretty face while Sam wondered how Bobby's mention of them being old friends and her simple-minded happy-go-lucky attitude could even fit into the same room.

Dean, however, who seriously started to get creeped out by her whole persona, chose to conveniently wrap his uncomfortableness with one of his snarky observations, "She mute or what?"

"Dean!" Sam immediately interjected, deciding that his brother's crudity was as good a moment as any to speak up for the first time since entering the house.

"What?! It's fucking impolite to just ignore people!"

Sam gave him the best bitch face he could manage from this angle; not that Dean bothered to acknowledge it with his accusing eyes still glued on the troubled blond whatever in front of them.

Leaning back against a kitchen counter, the younger Winchester muttered, "You're not making this any easier!"

"Oh, give me a break, Sam! Are you seriously this blind or has monster chick over there shit in your brains too?"

"Alright, that's it!" Bobby snapped, though the thought of why the boys were here in the first place made him keep his voice level. He'd planned to give them the peace and space they needed to mourn their father, but he just couldn't allow Dean to turn John's death into an excuse for acting like such a douche.

"I am in full control of my mind and actions, ya idjit. So if you're done with tryin' to find trouble, go unpack your stuff or find something else to make yourselves useful! Just buzz off, ya hear me?"

"Oh, hell no!" Dean scoffed with absolutely no inclination to back down. Instead he took one step towards the odd pair and pointed a finger at Liz' face, "First of all, I want to know what this is about, Bobby! What's so damn special about crazy-pants here? 'cause if I didn't miss the memo about you openin' some sort of monster guesthouse, I'd say she messed with your head old man! Since when do you invite strange creatures over for frickin' tea?"

Sam, who sensed that this conversation was quickly spiraling out of control, resolutely stepped forward so that he stood next to his brother — both his hands raised in front of him as he attempted to be voice of reason, "Bobby, we really don't want to meddle with your affairs, but—"

"Well then, how about tryin' to mind your own damn business for a change?"

"—maybe you could give us a quick heads up? Like, uh, for example… how about you give us a bit more than just a name to work with?" Sam nervously wet his lips, taking the fact that both hunters were now merely seething in silence as a small victory.

Scrunching his face up awkwardly, Sam chose to simply address the main reason for their fight, "I mean, no offense, Liz, but we've had a bit of rough week and it would help if you two could just… I dunno, maybe tell us what you're up to?"

Thinking that this should at least push them towards some sort of non-violent resolution, Sam mouthed a defensive 'what' in response to the glare he received from Dean. His brother looked like he would very much like to add a few less diplomatic demands, if the 'are you fucking kidding me' expression was anything to go by.

Bobby meanwhile relaxed his stance as Liz moved towards the table. Although the older hunter's eyes stayed on the brothers before him.

While Bobby didn't care for being forced to explain himself, in his own home no less, the more reasonable part of him —the one who had tried to make the best of the situation after supernatural beings had clawed their way into his life— understood where the boys' suspicions stemmed from.

However, before the old hunter could relent, Liz beat him to it.

I am terribly sorry to intrude. — said the note she had hurriedly scribbled inside a notebook before showing it to the two Winchesters. If I had known that Robert expected you, I wouldn't have bothered him. I usually just drop by to deliver a few items and then stay for a cup of tea. I'll leave as soon as I've taken some notes.

She was completely oblivious to the look Dean exchanged with Sam before both of them turned their hard eyes on Bobby.

"Robert?"

"What does 'usually' mean?"

Pausing her eager scribbling, Liz turned to the old hunter just as he simply shrugged, "Met her during a case in the nineties… There were news of a trickster and at first, I thought that Liz here was the culprit. 'sure was wrong about that" Bobby admitted with a wry smirk and Sam was admittedly caught off guard by the fondness that colored the hunter's next words, "Liz took good care of that bastard before I even had a chance to figure it out myself. Since then she's been dropping in once or twice a year."

"Come on!" Dean groaned and when the other two hunters in the room just frowned at him, he gestured dismissively towards Liz. "Just because she don't look like it doesn't make her anythin' less of a freaking monster!"

Noticing how the creature's smile had wavered just a bit at his words, he scoffed uncaringly, "Just calling them as I see them blondie…" Ignoring the prominent vein on now visible on Bobby's throat, the older Winchester regarded Liz even more closely before adding almost conversationally, "What are you anyway? Not hiding anything ugly in that mouth of yours, are we?"

Dean's question, though bluntly worded, actually made Sam bite his tongue. While he disagreed with how his brother had put it, Sam couldn't deny that he too was curious about the what kind of supernatural being dropped by Bobby Singer's house.

It took her some time, but eventually Liz again handed them her notebook back.

That's a very good question.

If Dean felt like strangling the woman by this point, he overplayed it surprisingly well by shoving the notebook at Sam before he proceeding to give Liz the best 'I've-known-you-for-like-five-minutes-now-and-I'm-already-so-done-with-your-bullshit'–stare he could muster.

Sam meanwhile only raised his brows before handing it back to the encouragingly smiling woman.

"You wanna tell me that you have no friggin' idea just what the hell you are?" Dean finally asked, his voice adapting a patronizing tone. Sam knew from experience that his brother would now call bull on anything else she might scribble down for them. The fact that even to his ears it sounded like Dean was talking to a person he considered mentally retarded might also have been a dead give away — even for Bobby.

Before the older hunter could however step in, Liz finally dropped her persistent smile with a soft sigh and simply used Bobby's shoulder as support for her notebook; effectively stopping the man from defending her as she jotted down her next reply.

I've been hunted for longer than I care to admit and for the sole reason of being different from any other supernatural being I've ever encountered. It's about time that I find answers and while I am sorry for my bad timing, I'm afraid that I can't put it off any longer.

If Liz' words made Dean feel even the least bit guilty, he easily squashed that feeling in favor of sending Bobby a long inquiring stare.

"So… you're gonna help this unknown supernatural freak creature with its… existential crises while none of us know what she is really capable of… Does this sound about right, or did I miss anything, Bobby?"

Instead of pointing out how he was perfectly capable of making decisions on his own, Bobby explained, "I offered her to help with the research and Liz will stay here while we try to find an answer."

Dean gave a jerky nod as though the thought of having her around didn't make the taste of bile rise in his mouth.

"How long's this gonna take?"

Bobby returned Dean's glare for quite some time; the raised brows and his wide open eyes a clear warning that he was on the verge of raising his voice again. "We'll see."

Not once taking his eyes off Bobby's strange new friend, Dean stomped past that persistent, if somewhat timid smile on Liz' face to disappear outside with a beer from the fridge.

His muttering about the dubious merits of "—inviting freakin' supernatural mental cases to one's home—" could easily be heard inside and it caused both Bobby and Sam to sigh simultaneously.

The younger Winchester however finally gave himself a push and extended his hand towards Liz, "Sorry about my brother. Dean's usually not as— well… it's just, uhm, a bad day for meeting new people, I guess." He quirked his lips in an attempt to clear the gloomy atmosphere, "I'm Sam by the way. It's nice to meet you, Liz."

Judging by the way she took his hand with such obvious delight, Sam could tell that this small gesture meant a great deal to her. For some strange reason this observation made him feel both guilty and at the same time pleased to have reached out all — even if it had been an unconscious move.

When Liz formed a quick question in sign language for Bobby only a moment later, the older hunter merely shook his head with a grumbled scoff.

"He'll get over it, girl. Give him some space and enough time to work on his car once it arrives… Just promise me that you won't go and try to apologize to the idjit."

There seemed to be some sort of story behind this peculiar remark and judging by the look on her face, Bobby had been right about Liz' train of thoughts.

It was just then that Sam realized just how well Bobby knew Liz. And while he too would have preferred some time without the unfamiliarity of strangers, a supernatural being no less, he did understand where Bobby was coming from.

Also, the idea of busying himself with something —anything really— seemed much better than going after a brooding Dean right then. Sam knew that he'd have to deal with his brother and his own loss at some point, but the chance to figure out the true nature of an unknown being sounded like a good challenge for now. At least Sam would be able to find out more about this strange woman — all while making sure that she definitely didn't pose a threat to any of them.

"Hey Liz. Mind if I help with the research?"

Author's note: This idea has been on my mind long enough to have my fingers itching. Although I admit that I don't know where I plan to take this yet – I do however have a couple of fun ideas and I really felt like Gabriel could use a crazy little patchwork family on earth, so there's Liz (and few more members whom I plan to introduce later on). Liz is a strange one, but I seem to be quite fond of writing those. I hope you'll like her!

The story starts at the beginning of season 2, after John's death, and with the arrival of the brothers at Bobby's. I intend to mostly follow the storyline with a few small (or maybe not so small) changes here and there.

I do have a strong feeling that this story should have some sort of warning. I'm just not sure yet what it should be so just in case... beware.