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And now Stephanie had his hat. Ah, well... he could trust her with it, he was sure! He hoped. If it ended up with crayon all over it, he might be a bit upset -- his father had stolen his spare, which meant this was the only one he had.

Dief, all too aware of Dead!Bob's theft, paused in his play with Steeler just long enough to check in on the hat issue. He looked up and barked out a question; Fraser shifted onto his stomach on the rafter, waving a hand down at him. "Don't worry about it," he called down, over-enunciating so the deaf wolf could read his lips.

Right, back to the issue at hand. Dean was still up here, and looking queasier by the moment. Fraser scooted along the rafter, moving closer to the boy. "You don't have to jump, Dean, if you don't want to. You can climb with me, if you like." He hesitated. "It is a little bit harder, though. And, well, the distance from the wall to the pillows..." Yeah, he was totally trying to get Dean to jump. Without emasculating him, by preference.

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Hey! Just because a girl did it didn't mean that Dean couldn't. And, yes, that statement probably would have been enough for him to do most of anything right now, were this another situation. However, this was heights. And heights were quite possibly one of the things that scared him the most. That, of course, and the thing that had killed Mommy, whatever it was. He was. HE. Dean had to try to convince himself that there wasn't nearly so much hiding in the dark as his father told him about.

He looked down - down, down, down - to the vast amount of space between his feet and the floor. And the tiny pile of cushions underneath that was looking smaller and smaller by the minute. With a swallow, he tightened his grip on the rope, eyes widening slightly. He didn't like those odds. At all.

"Can't I just, you know. Hang out here?" he asked in a voice that was probably an octave higher than his regular prepubescent one. "It's fun...! You guys can go. I'm all set." If by 'all set', he meant 'about to puke'.

But either he was allergic to bullshit or there was a lot of dust up by the rafters, because he sneezed, then, involuntarily letting go of the rope. And, of course, consequentially missing the wild swipe at it as he fell backwards, flailing, to the pile of cushions below, and oh dear freaking CHRIST.

Was he dead? He was dead. "I'm dead. My brains are all over the FLOOR! CRAP! MY BRAINS!" Dean suddenly wailed, flailing about on the cushions some more. He had to get them back into his skull!

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Steph had a hat, and two doggies. Life really didn't get much better than this. She threw the ball around a couple times, before becoming much more interested in the kind-of sharp things she'd dumped from her backpack. They were so Shiny! Who could resist? Maybe the doggies would rather play with them? Balls had to get boring after awhile. She picked one up, and got ready to throw it down the hall.

...Happily for the mouths of all involved dogs, that was when Dean came tumbling down. Steph dropped the Shiny Object, and ran over to help him collect his brains!

Hmm. She didn't see any brains, but that didn't mean they weren't there! Dean didn't seem like a liar. "Do you have invisible brains?," she asked, very concerned. It was plausible! Steph began tentatively poking around for Dean's invisible brains.

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lilypotter60.livejournal.com

Right, so, both of the kids on the ground again. Very good. And Dean was flailing around about invisible brains, which was bloody hilarious and she would be mocking him about it, later. But for now she held out her wand, making the end glow a bright purple. "If he has invisible brains," she told them both somberly, "we have to be very careful not to step on them. Now, this light will let me see them, but you have to hold still while I look, all right?"

Pretending to search the ground carefully, Lily reached out and closed her hand around something with a triumphant laugh. "Got them!" Fumbling about with the 'brains', she cupped her hands and held them out to Dean. "They're quite slippery. Now, what you have to do to get them back in, is take a deep breath in through your nose on the count of three." She looked at Dean. "Ready? One. Two. THREE!"

Of course, while she was doing this, she also pulled the knives and such closer to her, and, with her free hand, reached around while the kids were occupied and transfigured all the blades to toy rubber. Yeah. Like she was going to let them run about with sharp objects. She'd barely let grown-up Dean do that without serious worries. As sprogs, they'd probably impale someone.

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Oh, dear. Well, at least the boy was on the floor, now, one way or another. And despite his wailing about invisible brains, Fraser was fairly certain he was unharmed. Probably best to check, though. If only so the kids knew he cared. "Everything all right down there?" he called, shifting to sit on the beam. "Have you cleared up all the brains?"

Now he was the only one left above ground, an odd reversal of the situation he'd been in only a few minutes ago. Huh. Now, how to get back down? He could jump and risk his own not-so-invisible brains (and honestly, he jumped from high places with such regularity that his body was preparing to do so without his even telling it to), or... he could climb. Safer, but a little less exciting -- for the kids, of course. He cupped his hands to his mouth. "Would you mind making some room?"

You're good with children, a voice next to him said. I never knew. Where did you learn that?

Oh, terrific.

Fraser turned to face his father -- who would be visible to the two girls, but not to Dean -- with a sigh. "Dad, I'm kind of in the middle of something, if you hadn't noticed." Bob beamed. They're nice kids, too. I like them. You and the Yank should take them under your wing, they're obviously parentless. "They're not actually--" Fraser glanced down at the ground, then leaned across the beam to whisper to his father's ghost. "They're not actually kids, Dad."

Ah.

"Now, do you mind?"

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Okay, so he didn't see any brains. At all. He had been pretty damn sure he'd just cracked his head open onto the floor below, but there weren't any brains. Besides, Dad had cracked his head on one of his hunting trips before and he didn't lose brains; there was just a lot of blood, and he passed out, and Dean had to call Bobby to fix him back up. ...Except Steph and The Other Lady Who He Thought Was Named Lily But He Couldn't Really Remember seemed to think that his brains were onto the floor. Invisible? People didn't have invisible brains!

Or did they?

Oh, crap. Another thing to worry about. He'd have to constantly check Sam for invisibly brain loss now. Great. Except now it was just his own brains he had to worry about and... Wait, they were going to go in through his nose? Dude. All he could think of was that Discovery Channel special thing where they took the mummy's brain out through their noses. "Thanks! So does that mean I'm a pha... fair... phaaar... I'm a king of Egypt?" he asked excitedly, after he'd followed Lily's instructions with close, sharp eyes. Hey, he wanted all his brains back in, after all. ~~Not that he had many to begin with.~~

Hey, Not-Ninja Cop Guy was still up on the wall. ...Was he gonna jump? Dean clapped a hand to the back of his head, where invisible brains had, just moments ago, fallen out. "I definitely don't rec--recco... That thing where somebody suggests something!" he called back to Fraser, only. ...Was he talking to himself? What a weirdo! Dean saw hobos that did that. "Are you a hobo?!" he yelled afterwards, eyebrows furrowing.

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Did they get all the brains? Pah! "Of course we got all the brains," she called up. Stephanie Brown was on the case, and she was an expert brain-picker-upper. As of this moment.

"No. You're just a king of stupid," she said solemnly. "But you've got all your brains back!"

"He's not a hobo! Cops can't be hobos." Hm. Could cops be hobos? They could pretty much do whatever they wanted. But who would want to be a hobo? And OH GEEZ. Now there were two of them. Two mind-reading-ninja-cops who were possibly hobos! "It's a bust," she screamed, scrambling out of the pillow pile, and rushing to shove her Big Girl supplies in her backpack so she could properly skidattle. Steph didn't remember doing anything that was bad enough to be bust-worthy, but you could never be sure!

...hey. Speaking of her supplies. "Where's my shiny throwing things?" How could she make a proper getaway without her Shiny Objects?

((Reposted! LJ ate mah tag!))

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lilypotter60.livejournal.com

Looking up, Lily's face broke into a beaming smile. "That's just Ben's dad," she informed Stephanie. Whom she had never had the chance to see before. Once they got down here, she was going to have to ask how he'd managed. "I'm assuming, anyway." Carefully moving to make room, she nodded at Fraser. "Just be careful, yeah? I've done my invisible brain picking up for the day."

To Dean she grinned, "You're the king of something. So, your Majesty, do you want to come with me and Steph and Steeler and Ben and Sargeant Fraser to make cookies?" She looked over at Stephanie. "With extra chocolate chips, of course."

No answer to the lack of knives. Best to just distract the girl from the topic. "And hobos are usually in groups. Of three, I think. Maybe more. But, anyway, they also like boxcars and to eat out of cans." TV was educational!

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Apparently his father's appearance had caused some chaos. Fraser found himself unsurprised. He sighed heavily. "Great, look, you see, Dad? Now there's panic in the streets." Bob squinted down over the rafter. What are you talking about? How can they even see me? They're children. "Well, actually, they're not, and--"

All right, he'd had enough quality time for one day. He glanced down at Lily and returned the nod, thumbing the side of his nose. "I'll see you later, Dad." As easily as if he were going for a dive, he jumped neatly from the rafter and sailed down to the floor. He landed on his feet with a quiet 'oof,' or at least he tried to; the pillows made balance kind of difficult, and he wound up toppling forward onto his knees. But unharmed, anyway!

He sprang to his feet, clapping his hands together. "I'm not a hobo, no," he told Dean. "I'm still a Mountie. Now, I heard something about cookies?"

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Of course, Steph's insult automatically earned her back a, "Your FACE is a king of stupid." Intelligence was key, when fighting with a kid near his age.

But, wait, huh? Had that chick just mentioned one of the magic words? Dean's eyes automatically flung - yes, flung - sideways, towards Lily, brightening with a flash of excitement. And holy crapy look at that the hobo cop guy was jumping down from, like, the freaking ceiling. That guy was nuts! It was cool! This was the best day ever! Even with the brain loss!

Wait, he wasn't a hobo? Second best day ever.

Besides, he was a bit distracted by something, the thing that Lily had said earlier that was suddenly sending the hair up on the back of his neck, rather than the excitement he had shown before. Cookies? Dad barely even let him and Sammy out on Halloween. And he had to inspect all of their candy and stuff. Even the pre-packaged ones. Cookies... those were, man, baked right there. And unpackaged. And this chick could slip in Dran-O any time she felt like it.

Stupid! Stupid, stupid! He should've noticed that earlier! His stupid brains got in the way! "My dad says to not take food from strangers," he automatically prompted Lily in return, speaking a little too fast for his own good, eyes widening a bit up towards the woman.

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Sigh. Stupid Dean. Cookies were now most definitely part of The Plan (along with a neat hat!), and he was still on her payroll, darn it!

"My dad says you have to take what you want. But then he gets mad when I take his uti..uta...belt with neat toys." She scratched her head. "Adults are weird. Anyway, they're not strangers. They're Lily and Ninja Cop." Ninja Cop was a muuuuch better name than Benton, she decided.

She linked arms with Dean (which was hard, 'cause he was still Tall, so she had to stand on her tip-toes) and looked and Lily and Ninja Cop. "We'll help you make cookies. And we'd also like some milk to go with them, please."

She said please, so they had to yes.

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lilypotter60.livejournal.com

"I could see your dad," Lily murmured to Ben, a smile lighting up her eyes. "How did he do that?" Whatever it was, it was very awesome. But before she could go on, Dean spoke up, and a something sad flickered across her face. Crouching down so she was eye-level with Dean, she nodded. "Your dad is a smart man. You shouldn't take food from strangers."

She held out her hand. "I'm Lily Evans. I'm a professor here. And I'll eat the first cookie, just so you can be sure, yeah?"

Turning to Steph, she grinned. "Oh, absolutely. Milk is essential. What are cookies without milk?" Nodding towards her back, she arched an eyebrow. "Want a ride?" She'd never gotten to give Harry a piggy-back ride, but she remembered her dad doing it, carting her out of the zoo when she was too tired and stuffed with ice cream to walk. For a second her throat tightened, but Lily's expression only got soft and a kind of distant ache shone in her eyes. Steeler had wandered over and chuffed softly at them, snuffling Lily's face, and then Steph's and Dean's in turn. "Not you, you lazy git," she grinned, scratching behind the dog's ear.

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The tiny little voice of dissent in Fraser's ear muttered something dark at him when Lily's first move was to ask about his father and not, you know, if he was all right after jumping down from the ceiling. He pushed it away and smiled blandly. "I'm not entirely sure. He's been working on it, though. I believe he should be visible to most if not all of the ex-deceased now." And that was the end of Bob talk. He was ending it there. And no, he was not inviting him to cookies.

Turning back to the kids, Fraser discovered that he apparently had a new nickname. And a child who listened to his father -- wasn't that nice? Fraser, not seeing the irony in that train of thought, smiled brightly down at Dean. "You can call me Constable Fraser, son, if you like. Or Ninja Cop. Whichever one suits you. And I'll take the second cookie, how's that?"

Diefenbaker, who had been off playing with Steeler, chose this moment to wander back as well. Fraser glanced down at him and smirked with fond exasperation. "And I'm sure Diefenbaker here will be happy to take the third, just to be on the safe side." Dief barked an affirmative. Fraser rolled his eyes, but patted him lightly. "Now, shall we? They won't bake themselves." He stood, adjusting his uniform, brushing off the dust on his knees.

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EW, STEPH WAS TOUCHING HIS ARM, WHAT THE HECK. She probably had, like... ammonia or some other kind of STD! God! Was she trying to get him sick? Not that Dean knew that 'ammonia' was not even a sickness, let alone a sexually transmitted disease, but, well. Let him live in his own little world. For the time being, he just stuck his tongue out at Steph, making a wrinkled face afterwards. Ew. Girls. They were so gross. Boys were way cooler.

This chick's name was Lily? Right. She said that before. ...Yeah, he probably wasn't going to remember. Right now, he was still fighting the random, stupid urges to call her 'Mom'. GOD, she reminded him so much of...

Shut up, Dean. Cookies were at hand. Dean hesitated, shifting from foot to foot and chewing on his lip. "You sure you're not gonna poison them or something? Because I know how to use a gun!" And he did! He was good at shooting soda cans! Not that they were soda cans and not that Dean had a gun right now, but the thought counted. "And I could totally take you guys!"

Okay. The warning was out there. No stupid adults would be thinking of putting Dran-O in his cookies. On that note. "Is Constable your first name? Because that's kinda mean of your parents." He kept inching towards Fraser, centimeter by centimeter. Hey, the guy was wicked cool. And, you know, had that Y chromosome. Therefore, they could be best friends.

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