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Sam took great delight in frequently asking 'are we nearly there yet?' as they travelled. Then his attention was rather sharply drawn by all the snow and ice around San Francisco.

Then his attention was even more sharply drawn by the sudden storm that picked up, tossing them around. Their landing was ... rather rough. They hit a tree, among other things.

Twenty minutes later, Sam is shivering from the cold as he inspects the engine of the car.
"Why is everything so cold here?" It is, indeed, very cold. San Francisco appears to be not only utterly wrecked, but also entirely deserted and covered in snow (almost up to Sam's knees) and frost. After a moment's staring at the engine. "Guys, we're going to need a bunch of new parts for this thing."

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"Oh aye, I know, canna see any tracks, like she's just gone."

"Did you see any people while you were looking for parts? Anybody that could've kidnapped her?"

"Nay, 'avena met anyone, if I didna know better would say the Good Folk took 'er."

Then Will crosses himself just in case they're listening.

"That wouldn't be very good of them." Sam points out.

"Oh aye, but they're na that good."

He starts walking around the area, trying to find something, anything to help them.

"Shouldn't be called the Good Folk, then." Sam points out, a little grumpily.

"Call 'em that to be polite."

Will's grumpy too and trying to not get angry or too worried, Kate can take care of herself. Then from somewhere under a snowdrift, a weak voice calls for help, Will runs over, digging through the snow,

"Sam, come 'elp me, tis someone trapped!"

Sam pads over, kneeling down to help Will dig through the snow.

As they keep digging, suddenly a small head with a woven cap appears, crawling out of the hole they made. A little man dressed in the greens of the forest and looks at them with big eyes,

"Oh masters, thank you for saving me. I'm in your debt."

Will kneels down, meeting the man's eyes and says,

"Ye do look far from 'ome, good sir, tell me do ye know o'anyone who would be stealin' lovely ladies."

The little man looks awkwardly at the ground, not talking at first and twisting his cap,

"Oh good masters."

Sam facepalms, a little.

"Great. A midget." He grumbles.

The little man straightens up and looks at Sam,

"I'm a hob, good master, no midget I. And oh good masters, the Queen just found herself a lovely lass with hair of a raven and eyes of clear ice blue."

Will goes very still, his hand on the hilt of his sword,

"Tell us where to find the Queen, good hob, an consider our debt cleared."

The hob looks down again,

"Oh masters, you should not wish to find her, she is cruel and hard as ice, your lady will be safe just she is lost forever to you."

"Ravens don't have hair." Sam points out irritably.

The hob glares at Sam,

"Best learn to be polite, young master, else she'll be stealin' you away."

Will glares at Sam, "Please, master hob, tell us where to find the Queen."

Again the hob looks down, "If you truly seek her, young masters, find her over the water at the island prison, she guards all her treasures there."

Then he steps sideways and disappears from their sight, which causes Will to curse.

Sam considers this for a moment.

"We need iron."

"Oh aye, we do an a map an 'oly symbols. God damn it, na right 'er bein' caught, she's 'ad 'nough trouble in 'er life."

"I think we can probably dispense with the holy symbols." Sam says, dryly. "Let's just try and find iron."

That makes Will looks at Sam closely,

"Aye, if ye're sure an shouldna be too 'ard to find."

Sam peers closely at Will in return.

"You're not sure? Waving a cross or a six-spoked wheel in their faces is just going to make them laugh."

"Nay, it willna, they fear 'oly symbols an iron."

"You know this from personal experience, do you?"

"Tis true in all the tales, 'ow do ye know differently?"

"None of the magical beings I've ever met were warded off by holy symbols. Why should fairies be any different?"

"Fine, then we willna rely on 'em, but doesna 'urt to grab a cross amongst all the iron."

You know in arguments where one person says something and the other person childishly imitates them?

There's a brief golden glow and a little bit of mist, and Sam shifts into looking identical to Will.
"Doesna hurt to grab a cross amongst all the iron." His voice is still Sam's, though, pitched to be irritatingly high.

So Will punches Sam looking like him, it feels really good since he's feeling helpless.