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You hear that?

That is the noise of Jack approaching the farm, European folk metal blaring out of the speakers of the Coraline. He had considered arriving at Ruth, but then he decided to screw that idea. Jack Hollins doesn't fear anything at the farm, dammit.

So he's driving up merrily, singing along with the radio.

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"Pick up the brothers and set out," is the answer.

"Last seen in Metropolis, so back there we go."

Jo raised an eyebrow.

"That was it?"

Why did she have to come to the farm then?

She pushed herself down off the counter, making a face when her hand ended up somewhere quite cold.

That somewhere is in fact icy cold.

"Hey, get the hell off me!" Sparrow complain, before heading out to find Dick.

Jack shakes his head. "I knew not where to start. Needed to be here to meet her.

"Was there not another?"

He was sure there were two ghosts on the farm.

"Dean mentioned two the first time."

Jo shrugged

"But since we got here it's only been about her."

"Very well," Jack concedes.

"Speak you to the person you wanted?"

There's a knock on the door. "Hey. Sparrow, Jack - you must be Jo."

Jo gets the full bunt of his grin. "Thanks for coming, guys. You found her OK?"

He gets a tip of her head, with a comes from out of nowhere bright lopsided smile.

"Yeah."

To both questions.

A breeze follows Dick in.

Bouncing excitedly behind him, Sparrow grins.

"He said he can find my body!" she declares.

"I know how she reads, now," is Jack's answer to Dick. "Find her body, likely. Where to go from there, that's Jo's area."

Dick sighs with relief and looks like he might be about to hug Jack. Or Jo. Or both.

"I owe you, you guys. This is amazing."

Jo shrugs with a lightly restrainedly smug ting to her smirk.

"It's not too far from what we do."

"For herself," Jack allows. "I'm a sailor, me. Never worked with ghosts."

"Then it's appreciated all the more," Dick says, grinning. "Seriously. Anything you want in return, within reason."

Jo effected a pout at within reason.

Jack grins, amused beyond measure at Jo's pout.

"Mayhap we will call that in some day."

White fire, melting no snow when aimed at the ground, has been lighting up the training yard every few seconds for the past half-hour as Oliver exercises.

As Jack arrives, Oliver is pulling his gloves on, breathing heavily as he walks to the farmhouse.

The truck and its occupant get a frown.

The trainee and his gloves, on the other hand, get a bright grin and a wave as Jack hops out of the truck.

Although the grin does not really spread past the mouth. It's just a confident, highly amused baring of the teeth.

"How goes the training?"

Oliver never looks fondly on his younger days - except when it comes to physical strength. In his 20s a half-hour's hard exercise barely made him break a sweat. (Well, at least he wasn't quite so winded.)

Stiffly, "Well enough." It's all he can manage in between breaths.

Jack, on the other hand, is in his 20s and at the peak of his physical fitness. He continues to smirk, coming round the front of the Coraline and resting on her hood.

"Aye, wouldn't want to be caught lax, would ye?"

Dick beams at them both.

"Promise."

He shakes his head, apparently not thinking that an answer so obvious deserves a verbal response.

"And the farm's been keeping well in my absense?"

All the time Jack's studying Oliver, with the expression he'd usually keep for law enforcement in his favourite ports: a known enemy who he will tolerate until their paths cross directly.

"Yes."

Beyond the recent physical exertions, the circles under his eyes say he hasn't slept well - but his posture and bearing say he's on alert now.

"How are the roads?" he asks after a moment.

"Well," Jack says cheerfully. "Plenty to keep a restless man occupied."

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