Rating: PG - Gen
Disclaimers: SPN & characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: The world looks small on a map.
Sam crushed the small water cooler paper cup in his hand.
Long ago, he recalled their father once referring to their occupation as being similar to a soldier, surgeon, or a commercial airline pilot. He remembered wondering what the hell that meant until the surprisingly reasonable explanation came. Their lives comprised of long bouts of boredom punctuated with intermittent short moments of stress and hard choices. This was definitely one of those spans of boredom. But it was all part of the picture for a job to go right.
A lot of what hinged on that success as opposed to a huge waste of time depended almost entirely on your sources. Once you found the right person, all you had to do was engage them in conversation until you thought you got what you needed. Unfortunately, not everyone was right there when you needed them to divulge their inner souls.
Some people had lunch hours.
A little sign on an empty desk told them if they wanted, they were more than welcome to wait around. Kathy, the undoubtedly well dressed and perky travel agent who just happened to live next to a graveyard, would be back promptly by 2PM. Not much to do until then but peruse the glossy pamphlets with picture after picture of sunny climes, laughing super models in the surf and the occasional solemn European cathedral. Sam wandered the sizable and pleasantly air conditioned room and paused in front of a laminated world map that sat on the wall.
"Don't you just want to go somewhere sometimes?"
"What are you kiddin me?" Dean put back a Club Med: Hedonism* brochure he had been flipping through. "That's almost all we do."
"I mean somewhere ... not here."
The Continental United States. The Lower 48. The most exotic Sam had gotten was from a bar stool still within sight of the border down in Mexico. He privately conceded to himself that there had also been a few forays up into Canada. More flannel and less street trash aside, within his own terms Sam wasn't sure Canada really qualified as going 'abroad'.
"Like where?" Dean honestly wondered.
"I don't know." Sam murmured. "Brazil, China, hell, how about Kazakhstan."
"Where the fuck is Spaztackystan?"
"That's my point."
For a couple of guys that had been over hundreds of miles and as many sections of road more times than anyone should, their stomping ground was still just one color coded patch on a much bigger map. Sam's gaze lingered on the small dots that symbolized entire and ancient capitals, and the fine lines of roads the great explorers had carved through distant plains on the exact opposite side of the planet. But even with the promised mystery of it all, he knew more than most that the romantic notion of a dart to a map might just end you up somewhere no where special. The names of towns and their common secrets might as well be the same all around the world as far as he knew.
He touched a finger tip to Paris.
"Well?" Dean prompted.
Dean turned to him expectantly with a small triumphant smile on his face. "Spazzywhateverland?"
"Can I help you?" A tersely professional female voice asked.
Kathy was back from lunch. A brunette. Sam had guessed blond. But he was dead on about the reasonably priced red power suit.
Sam shifted into what he needed to be at the moment for the job.
"Yeah, we were interested in going somewhere cold." Sam explained. "With maybe some old castles."
He made one final backwards glance at the world that sat behind them neatly framed on the wall. It was always going to be there when he was ready to see it. Maybe he'd even have his brother along side him when he did.
Kathy gestured to the chairs that sat in front of her desk.
Sam took his seat gratefully and let the travel agent launch into her own job.
Dean would soon to steer her into a talk about their family hobby of gravestone rubbings and then right into her very own ghost story that she had no idea she was about to tell.
Sam gave silent thanks for office punctuality.
Otherwise he would have had to admit to his brother that he had no freaking idea where the hell Kazakhstan was.
* Link leads to Adult Content: http://www.gonude.com/hedo/hedointro.htm
Holiday weekend! Whoo, time to hit the bars... with my face.