[h3] Dean Winchester [/h3]

Dean watched Mika hand the widow her business card, wondering if she had managed to get any info from her.  He didn’t ask.  Instead, he stood still until Mika turned to leave and the widow showed them out.  As soon as they were outside, Dean glanced to Mika expectantly, waiting for a light briefing.  He shook his head sadly at her comment about the woman’s grief, “Yeah, I can’t imagine losing someone like that.  Wake up in the morning and everything’s fine, and then by night fall, your spouse is just dead.”

As Mika brought up the name of the babysitter, Dean narrowed his eyes in deep thought and he tilted his head to the side, “Wasn’t that the name on the other paper?  The girl Sam and Nat are going to talk to?”

He pulled the hex bag from his pocket and held it up between two fingers, “Think she could be our witch?  I found this, behind the fridge.”

[h3] Annabeth [/h3]

Anna smirked at Sam’s comment about having trouble keeping himself professional around Dean and Nat’s shenanigans.  Though, he didn’t seem particularly excited about Anna going off to chat with the gawking students.  He still seemed to understand it might be a plan, if they needed some info from the kids.

She followed Sam and Nat down to the classroom, and as Sam and Nat pulled their ID’s to show the teacher, she also pulled hers, but stood back from them a bit to look over the artwork on the walls, and the different clay pieces.  She frowned at a few of them, seeing a lot of dark and potentially disturbing masks.

When Nat signaled to her to take photos quietly, Anna pulled out her phone, and she stepped closer to them, looking over the disturbing art as she pretended to text, while taking photos, “Her mood changed suddenly.  Almost like she might be possessed by something?  Like something snapped?”

She asked the questions in a way that Sam and Nat could pick up on what she was getting at, wondering if the girl was possessed by a demon, but keeping it vague enough that the teacher would just think she was simply mentioning hormones, or maybe trauma causing the outbursts.

[h3] Duke [/h3]

Duke relaxed a bit as Esme actually reacted to his embrace and his words.  He tilted his head to the side as she leaned back against his shoulder, and turned her face toward his neck.  Glancing down at her, even though he couldn’t see her face, he smirked, his smirk turning into a wide smile, “I guess that’s a compromise…for now.”

Duke tightened his arms around her as she forgave him for the question and then apologized for unloading on him, as if he didn’t ask for it.  He shook his head and turned his head to place a soft kiss to her hair, “You got no reason to apologize.  You can lay all that stuff on me.  I got plenty of room for it.  But, we gotta…make that go both ways.  Let me ask questions and…be here, while I can.”

He reached his free hand up to brush her hair back, brushing his thumb down the side of her face as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself the rest of the way, in hopes that it would help her own nerves if she was dealing with them, “I’ll hang around a while, so we can work on that…if you want me to."