"So Lynn, tell us a little bit about yourself." Agent Page leaned back and put his elbow on the back of the booth between us. If he got any closer my face was going to flame again, so I distracted myself by looking over at Agent Bonham.

"Hmm, not too much to tell, agents" I let the word "agents" drawl a bit, not really getting over the novelty of it all...the seriousness of it all...but before I could continue, Agent Page interrupted.

"Please, Lynn, I'm Dean and this is Sam...don't fuss over the agent stuff!" He flashed me a dimpled grin that lit up his whole face.

"Oh, well, ok then, Dean..." I smiled cheekily back before I continued," I've lived here for about 5 years, just me and my Gramma. I like dolphins and the colour green. I'm older than 21, but I'm not 35 either. I can play the clarinet and cello, and I am originally from Canada." I finished my statement by taking a bite of my burger.

The restaurant was now empty except for Donna and Ken in the back prepping for the next mealtime. Rachel had gone home for a few hours; she'd be back to help with supper rush.

"So you're not American?" Dean questioned, leaning forward.

"No..." I answered slowly, "usually when you're from Canada you're Canadian, not American." Sam almost choked on his food and then laughed out loud, while Dean glared at him then rolled his eyes at me.

"I meant," he glared at Sam again, "why are you here, a dead-end town of all places, if you're not even American? Canada hasn't got rundown, dime-a-dozen towns like this?"

I smirked while I swallowed another bite of burger, "I moved here because some of my family is American and they used to live here."

Dean gave a triumphant look at Sam who held up his hands in surrender. "See, I knew no foreigner would want to live in this town without some kind of connection!"

I laughed. I would never admit it to Donna, especially after accusing her of matchmaking while she smirked all-knowingly at me, but I was having fun. These agents were actually great to talk to. They made me feel...safe. I really had no idea why they'd given me anxiety before. Maybe it was their suits...or their good looks...or my inability to keep any form of a blush from flaming across my face in the worst possible moments.

Still, as nice as they were, they had some real questions to ask me.

"So, Lynn, we were wondering if you knew either of these individuals." Sam slid a couple of photographs across the table towards me. I wiped the grease from my burger off of my hands and onto my apron before delicately pulling them closer me.

"Yes! This is Silas Mercer." I narrowed my eyes and then swallowed hard, "and that's Sissy Briggs." I looked from one picture to the next. I lifted the one of Sissy and felt my heart soften a little.

Sam seemed to clue in to my emotions. "Do you know her?" He asked gently. In the picture they had of her, she was smiling...I hadn't seen her smile like that in years.

"Yes, well, I mean, I used to know her very well. Now I basically just know of her," I began. "Life has not been kind to Sissy: some people say it was her own fault, some said it was her dead-beat mother. Either way, she has turned into a...well, a sad sort of case." I paused, trying to find the right words. "She's spent the last couple of years sort of...drifting...honestly, from one one-night-stand to the next. Some people have even said that's how she makes a living." I pulled my lips into a thin line and looked at Sam. He nodded empathetically for me to continue.

"I don't believe that's necessarily true though. She did have a job at the bar across town...she just...rarely showed up for work!" I smiled wryly. "I don't know how exactly you keep a job doing that, but somehow she did! Donna tried her here a few months ago...she missed more shifts than she worked."

"And this guy, Silas Mercer, know anything about him?" Dean passed the other picture to me. I laid Sissy's down and picked it up.

"Wow, how did you guys find such an old photo of him? He actually looks respectable here." I laughed sarcastically. "I can't tell you too much about this one except he's a drunk. And a pig. A drunk pig." I felt myself getting angry so I put down the picture and breathed deeply, returning to my burger.

"Whoa, hey there, it's ok!" Dean patted my shoulder but I just shrugged and chewed the bite I'd taken methodically.

"So...this guy," Sam began, "he was...inappropriate with you?" It came out like a question.

I raised one of my fingers that held my burger, trying to swallow before I answered.

"Yes...me and the half of the town that's female. He just...I don't know. Donna said he was a looker when he was young and I guess he still thought he was." Sam looked at me like he knew there was more to the story.

I put down my burger and picked up my napkin to wipe some ketchup from my fingers. "He's had a sad life, really." I felt my sarcasm softening in spite of myself. "He's quite pathetic. He's a drunk, he harasses women and annoys men. Somewhat harmless but there's been a few bar fights to his name. He can't keep a job to save his life and the paltry amount he receives from the interest of a bad investment keeps him fed but no roof over his head." I slid the picture to my left, towards Dean, and tapped on it. "He's not that man anymore."

Dean picked up the picture and shot Sam a look.

"So basically what you're telling us is that both these people were known, but wouldn't be too missed by too many?"

I hesitated and then nodded. "It sounds mean, but yes, I suppose so.

"Well, I guess that's all we needed to know for now," Dean handed Sam the pictures, and Sam put them back in a folder he had resting on the booth beside him. "Except, I guess, one more question..." Dean let his voice trail off and I looked up to see Sam glaring at him and subtly shaking his head no.

"What my partner means, is" Sam was talking to me but looking at Dean, "could you recommend any nice, inexpensive places to stay? We didn't see any motels on the way in."

"Of course, yes, I can help you with that." I answered, glancing at first Dean and then Sam. Dean looked annoyed as Sam finally turned to face me instead of his partner. "I'm done eating, let's just step outside the diner and I'll point you in the right direction."

***

"Ok, so, you see that blue shop down the road? Turn left there, then you're going to go over a large hill and at the first stop sign, you turn right. After that, it's the third parking lot on your left." I shaded my eyes with my hand as I pointed out the directions to the agents. Now that we were all standing outside, I realized how...small, these men made me feel. Donna was right; they were both well over six feet and made an intimidating pair.

"Thank you so much for all your help Lynn," Sam looked through his folder and pulled out a card. "If you think of anything else, or see or hear anything, and I mean anything odd or out of the ordinary, please just give us a call."

"Nothing is too small to let us know about," Dean piped in.

I smiled at them quizzically and offered a hedged, "ok..." as I took the card Sam offered. I pinched it between my thumbs and forefingers and glanced at it before raising my eyes to meet theirs. They looked expectantly at me, like I was supposed to say something.

I had no idea what I was supposed to say.

So I said the first thing that came to mind.

"What are you doing this evening?" I blurted and instantly regretted it.

"Me?" Both of them asked in unison, before doing a double-take glare at each other.

"Well, uh, both of you, actually, uh, yeah..." I stuttered. How am I going to get out of this one gracefully? I thought fast and finally stammered out,

"Yeah, you know, like, there's not a whole pile to do in this old town, so I was just wondering what your plans were. If you wanted I could give you some tips on interesting things to do."

Phew. I had recovered myself and had managed to somehow keep it from looking like I was asking one of them, obvious incognito double-date style, on a date.

Dean smirked and shrugged boyishly, "well, I'm sure we'd like that, wouldn't we Sam?" he slapped the taller man's chest with the back of his hand and Sam grunted in response.

"What time should we pick you up?" Dean had the most mesmerizing Cheshire cat smile...

"I work tonight." I blurted aggressively. "I meant more like, there's a bar across town but it's kind of lame..." I saw Dean's face fall, "but we have an amazing museum of architecture history of the Midwestern States as influenced by the sawmill industry!" Dean's face actually clouded and Sam's brightened with interest; but I wasn't done:

"There's also a movie theater right near the motel I'm sending you to...this time of year it usually only plays older movies and classics. A lot of westerns..." Dean's head pivoted upward once again and Sam looked slightly annoyed.

Wow, these guys don't try to hide how they feel about things...or they're terrible actors, one of the two.

"And there's also a museum to do with folklore and fairytales!" I finished with a mini bow of my head. "And that about sums up the town!" I smiled brightly, glad I'd successfully evaded making a fool of myself. When Rachel asked out a guy, it was always because he'd practically asked her already. And guys never said no to Rachel. Me on the other hand? I couldn't risk it, and of course they would say no. I mean...I'm, well...me.

I shook my head to try to clear my mind as I realized Sam was asking me a question.

"Did you say a museum on folklore?" he sounded out the words carefully, like they might scare me away. I shrugged, "yeah, totally, we're known for it! I know you've come to Ennisbrooke for other, well, serious, business, but I find it hard to believe you didn't know about our one-of-a-kind museum!" I giggled at the weird looks on their faces. You'd have thought they'd seen a ghost.

"What's wrong?" I tilted my head. "You don't believe in the fairy curses...do you?" I arched my eyebrow evilly as they started sputtering awkwardly,

"No, no, pshaw, no! Absolutely not, we were just curious," Sam shook his head gesturing with his hands.

"No, no way, dude! Not a chance, we are way too..." Dean's voice drifted into silence as he looked for the right word, "too...too...too cool! Yeah, too cool for that!" He screwed up his face and raised his hands, "no way!"

I gaped at them, "ohhh, kay. Well then. If you don't believe in it, I'm sure you won't..."

"Is there a fairy curse?" Dean interrupted me and let out an "ow" as Sam hit him with his folder.

"Well, yes, of course there is!" I lowered my voice mysteriously. It was like being a stage actress, even for just a second, so I was totally going to make the most of it...

"You see, a long, long time ago...well, I guess they can tell you all about it at the museum."

"Yes. Yes of course. The museum..." Dean looked at Sam until Sam blurted out.

"Well, why don't you just tell us now? I mean, it is just a fairy tale, right?" Sam chuckled.

"If you say so, but," I leaned in and whispered, "I still can't tell you here. They fairies hear things..." I looked around furtively.

"Well, uh, do you work tomorrow? You could, uh, come to the museum! With-with us. And tell us the story there?" Dean stuttered. Was he flustered? Was I- no, no way...wait. Was I flustering him?

The heady thought made me agree to the plan.

"Yes, actually, I am off tomorrow. We could absolutely go to the museum and you will find out there...where the fairies can't hear us." I finished my acting with a wink before I burst out laughing. Sam and Dean looked warily at me, which made me laugh a little more.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I guess I'll never grow up fully." I finally caught my breath, "I've always loved the idea of fairies and the mystical creatures being real. Going on long journeys where spells can be broken by love. It's so enchanting, I guess pretending the fairy curses and things are real makes me feel..." I searched for the right way to express my feelings, "It makes me feel safe. At home. Like my childhood is still with me, you know? I didn't get much of a childhood, so I guess I cling to fairytales and stories to keep that piece with me."

I stared at the ground for a moment before inhaling sharply. "Well, you don't want to hear about that and I've got to go back in now, so I guess we can meet here tomorrow. Say around 10 in the morning? Unless you have investigative stuff to be doing..."

"No, no that's perfect, 10 it is, come on Dean..." Sam nearly grabbed his partner and dragged him across the parking lot towards this gorgeous Chevrolet...

"Nice car!" I called out and waved.

"She's a beauty, ain't she?" Dean called back.

"What year?"

"Sixty-seven. Impala."

"Gorgeous!" I gestured happily as I swung open the door and nearly fell back inside the restaurant. Donna nearly tripped in her haste around the counter towards me.

"Well?!? How did it go?" she was practically bouncing.

I leaned against the closed glass door as I heard the light honk of a car leaving the parking lot. I smiled softly to myself.

"I'm going to see them both tomorrow."