Shades of gray- Story 2 {BtVS/Supernatural}

11. Questioning Witnesses

A/N: Characters aren't mine, they belong to Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke

Dean drove to the airstrip the small plane had flown out of after they ate, Sam in the front researching gremlins and any witnesses to the crash while Buffy occupied the backseat. Neither Buffy nor Dean acted any differently around each other except they were both quieter than normal. Sam didn’t hear from Willow again after the message at breakfast, but Buffy seemed to slip once again into solitude. She just stared out the window at the cars and passing trees, listening to the boys banter with half an ear.

They pulled up to the airstrip and the boys rummaged for some form of ID, while Buffy wandered away to case the place without anyone noticing. She didn’t have an ID and she wouldn’t be able to pass with one of theirs, being a girl and all their ID’s were male. She decided to look around and see if she noticed anything odd while they talked to the pilot.

Dean and Sam decided to use a cover story of doing a school report on planes and how often they crashed. They didn’t look old enough to be part of the government so that narrowed the options of ID’s to use considerably. The guards seemed to buy it though, because they waved them in and pointed out a man that was watching the planes being maintained. He was tall, mid-30s, with sandy brown hair and he wore a suit and a tie like most of the people milling about. Dean glanced around, but Buffy was nowhere to be seen, so they went over to talk to the pilot.

“Hello, I’m Xander and this is my brother Oz. Can we ask you some questions sir?” Dean greeted the guy when they approached, saying the first names that came to mind.

“You’re not police are you? I already told them all I know.” He answered, crossing his arms and looking at them closely.

“No sir, we’re not police,” Sam told him, smiling to put the man at ease. “My brother and I are doing a report on planes and what causes mechanical failures that makes them crash. We read in the paper that you were flying a plane that went down just recently and we thought perhaps you could help us out?”

The guy seemed to relax very slightly at Sam’s explanation, appraising them for a moment. Dean gave the guy a cheeky grin out of habit and Sam had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at his brother. “Alright, I suppose I could help. The plane I was flying was headed to San Diego with a couple passengers, and everything was fine until the alarms started going off,” the guy explained, frowning at the memory. “When I crash-landed the mechanics said there was dust in the fuel pipes, how I don’t know. I’m just glad no one was hurt.”

“Did you happen to notice anything strange before the alarms went off?” Sam inquired as he glanced up from the notepad he was writing what the pilot said down on.

“I didn’t, no, but some of the passengers claimed to hear noises or seeing something mess with the wings. Probably gremlins with my luck,” the guy muttered and Dean looked sharply at him. “During World War II there were a lot of legends and superstitions about gremlins causing the planes to crash, my great-grandfather was in the war so I heard about them growing up. Haven’t had any problems before though.”

“Do you believe it was gremlins or do you think it was just regular mechanical failure?” Sam asked the man, watching him wearily. Citizens usually didn’t know about the things that lurked in the dark like they did, and it was rare to find one who did. The guy shrugged in reply, and he met Dean’s gaze. “Anything else you can think of?” Dean asked and the guy hesitated once more, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing around.

The guy seemed to think on whatever he wanted to say, determining whether to tell them or to let it be. “When I was flying I checked the altitude after the alerts started going off, we were over 1,000 feet above ground but I swear I thought I saw it much closer.” He said finally, looking at the two young men before him. “That sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”