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(no subject)

Who: Sam Winchester and Rachel Conway
What: Another meeting to exchange information and start working toward some answers.
Where: The Shrove's Wing tea house.
When: Newdi, just after 9 o'clock.
Notes: N/A
Warnings: None yet.

Rachel has just done the last of her cleaning up, to end her shift. She moves from behind the counter out to linger in the seating area, so it's clear that she's no longer on duty.

Usually right about now she'd be gathering her things and heading out to get a train home. But she'd told Sam Winchester she'd wait here tonight, and meet him for a talk. She was serious about wanting answers about this place and pretty much willing to share information with anyone in that quest.

She leans against the staircase railing--the stairs lead to private rooms upstairs--and she waits.

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You should congratulate him, Rachel. He's managed to get somewhere without getting ridiculously lost. All things considered, though, learning your way around a new city is hard, but fortunately, Sam's been through enough new cities that they all start to look the same.

This definitely isn't the same, but it's still something he has to learn, whether he wants to or not.

Eventually he makes his way into the tea house, glancing around and looking for a sign of the woman he'd talked to before. When he spots a flash of red hair, he turns and starts to make his way over.

"Rachel?"

There are so many things that video chat with Sam told Rachel. He's intelligent. He's as unhappy about being here as she is. He doesn't trust the place either. Also, most helpfully for this meeting, she knows he's got long brown hair, knows what his face looks like, so she recognizes him as he walks up.

The one thing the video couldn't tell her was that he was a remarkably tall man. Wow. Unconsciously, she draws herself up to her full five feet, seven inches as he approaches, offering him a hand and a warm smile.

"Sam? Hi. It's nice to meet you in person."

Sam smiles as he shakes her hand. "Likewise. To be honest, talking over video with everyone all the time is ... weird."

He takes a breath as he steps back before nodding. "So. Where can we talk?"

"Yeah," she agrees, smiling up at him. "Yeah, it is." She's from 2007; iPhones were barely out, Face Time didn't exist yet, and video conferencing was something only business people did. She was just getting the hang of texting, forget video.

Rachel glances around. "We could probably get away with talking down here, if we take a table near the back and keep quiet. There's private rooms upstairs for those who want to drink the special tea, too, if you think being down here wouldn't be private enough."

He shakes his head. "Down here is fine." Closed off rooms hold the same potential to be watched as everything else. Out in open areas, it's easier to notice when you are.

Not that Sam is paranoid or anything.

"Lead the way."

"Through here, please."

She pauses at the counter on their way through, ordering a pot of green tea so it doesn't seem suspicious that they're taking a table. And then she leads Sam to the back of the seating area, to a small table. It's out of the way enough that they'll have some privacy, but not so tucked away that they can't see what's going on in the rest of the establishment.

She settles into one of the chairs. "Did you find the place okay?"

"Yeah," Sam nods as he follows her to the table. "It wasn't that hard to find with the right directions."

And Sam has been following directions his whole life. So it was easier than it probably seemed.

"Good. I'm glad."

She pauses, falling quiet as a server arrives with the pot of tea and two cups. Rachel pours a cup for Sam as well as for herself, half out of habit of working here and half because that's just how she is anyway--tending to everyone else, not just herself.

Once the girl's gone she smiles. "I get the feeling you want answers as bad as I do. I'm glad you're here. Maybe we can put our heads together and figure something out."

He nods as he reaches over to fix his tea to his liking. "No, I definitely want some answers. There's just -- too much weirdness going on in this place to just ignore it."

He knows there were people working on trying to get home. And that's good, for the people who had something to go home to. Sam just wants to figure out how this place ticks, and once he does that, he can know what to expect.

He's not looking to go home. But he's not telling anyone else that.

Rachel nods, grave. "Starting with us even being here at all. I thought I saw a pattern in that once but no. Like, the first couple of people I met were near doors or walking through them when they wound up here but that didn't turn out to be the case the more people I got to know."

She frowns. She's been working toward answers. The thought of going home hasn't occurred to her. She hasn't got a lot to go back to, honestly. She's more focused on getting information, understanding what's happening here and now than looking toward the past or some escape.

"Yeah, that's definitely not the case with me," he sighs. "And being here was the last thing I was expecting."

He pauses, taking a sip of his tea before continuing. "And a lot of people here, seem to have been taken from the same place. Another city, called Bete Noire?"

"Bete Noire," she repeats, frowning. "I've never heard of it. I came here from New York. But there are people coming in from all over, it seems."

She wraps her hands around her cup, resting her forearms on the table and leaning in a little. "It feels like this is happening for a reason, you know?" she says. "I just wish I knew, like, what the hell that was."

"In my experience? Whoever's pulling the strings doesn't reveal those reasons until they're good and ready -- and usually it's too late for them to do anything about it."

He takes a deep breath and another sip of his tea. "I just wish there was somewhere where I could really look for information, you know? Get down to the real details."

Rachel frowns, thoughtful. "There's a library? I met one of the librarians, his name is Martel. He was willing to try to help me dig through old books and records." She settles back, idly watching some of the other people in the place for a bit.

"I doubt we're going to get any information besides the party line from anyone who's, like, in some official position in the city. We may be on our own."

Sam considers that for a moment, before shrugging. "It's still something. History's written by the winners, but knowledge is still knowledge. There might be a clue in there somewhere."

Sam is used to reading between the lines. It's necessary in a job like his.

"That's true. Even if the information's skewed it's still better than no information at all."

She sips from her cup before going on. "Also I've been kinda quietly checking things out at the inn. Haven't found anything really useful yet. I talked to some other people who want to look into things, too. Maybe we should all pool our resources?"

"Yeah, sure. The more heads we can get in on this the better."

He pauses as he thinks this over. He knew that the inn gave Dean the creeps for good reason, but figuring out how it works might be a step in getting other people out of there. Getting Dean back to where he belongs so that he can die to live.

It's an odd contradiction, but it's an important one to Sam.

"I can definitely put all you guys in touch. We might be able to all help each other out."

She toys with the handle of her cup, idly. "You seem pretty knowledgeable about digging up information. You do this regularly?"

He shrugged. "I'm a bit of a research buff. I've always been good at it."

"Oh?" She smiled. "For school? Were you studying before you got here?"

There's a hesitation there, but he nods. "Sort of. Some stuff went down my senior year, so I was taking a break, but -- I actually did a lot of research for my job so some stuff transferred. I was pre-law at Stanford."

He is hoping the pre-law will keep her from asking 'what do you do?' because that's a bit harder to explain.

"Stanford!" She looks suitably impressed. "I went to school pretty near there. Santa Clara University? Down near San Jose. But, wow. Pre-law. No wonder you're good at research."

His statement's had the intended effect--knowing he was a pre-law student explains everything, right now, and she's not going to ask further.

"And are you still staying at the inn?"

"I've been to Santa Clara," he says with a grin. "It's a beautiful city. I love how close to the beach it was."

He was more than happy to get off the topic. Really.

"No. Got an apartment of my own -- don't really trust it, you know?"

"Yeah, it's pretty there. All of California is, though, really. I went to Santa Clara for school but I grew up down in Santa Barbara."

She gives him a knowing nod, sipping from her cup. "Yeah, I know. I got out of there as fast as I could, too. Didn't seem like a good place to hang around, what with all the random people arriving all the time."

He nods. "I sort of grew up all over the place, but I've been through some of the more rural areas in California. It's a great state."

"And you never know who's going to arrive either. Considering this place seems to pull from all different universes?"

"It is." For a moment, there's a pang. She misses California--she had well before she got here, being in New York. The Big Apple wasn't an unqualified success and she was homesick. Before, there was the possibility of seeing it again someday. Now? She didn't think she ever would.

"And yeah--I mean, I'm sure they have safety measures in place and all, but you just never know who's going to bust out of one of those rooms. I'd rather not have the worry, you know?"

He nods. "Yeah, I don't blame you. This world is a little hard to read. It makes it harder to know where the safe places are."

"I'm trying to make this place a safe place, if I can." She shrugs. "Those of us wanting answers need to know we have places to go, to talk, to meet, to share what we've learned."

"Sort of like a cohort roadhouse?" He's putting it in terms of his world, but hopefully she'll get the analogy. "Just ... classier?"

She considers that a moment, and then she nods. She doesn't entirely get the significance of roadhouse, but she thinks she gets the general idea. "Yeah. Like a place where we know we can meet up and talk to each other without worrying. I'm here most afternoons and evenings. I know a lot of the people who come through here. And if we absolutely ever needed it there are the private rooms upstairs. Those are for people who want to have the hallucinogenic tea--so we just say that's what we're doing and we can get a room."

Sam nodded. "Right. Yeah, I could definitely get behind something like that."

She nods, pleased by this. "Good. Let me talk to some of the others, and I'll get back in touch with you?"

He reaches for his cup of tea again and nods. "Yeah. I'll be around."

"Sounds good."

She finishes off her tea. "I should get going. But I'll be back in touch when I know how things are going? And I'll try to put you in touch with some of the other guys, too."

Sam nods as he goes to finish his own. "I'll be around, so just let me know."

"Okay." She touches his arm, briefly, smiling. "It was nice meeting you, Sam. Call me if you need anything. We'll talk again soon."

And then she's up, making her way through the crowd to the front door.

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