moonliteknight: (must not laugh)
[personal profile] moonliteknight
Title: We're Your Fic: Biggest Fans, We'll Follow You Until We Figure Out What You're Hiding
Fandoms: SPN/Psych
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gen
Word count: 3650
Spoilers: up to 6x03 “This Episode Sucks” for Psych, Up to Season 6 for Supernatural
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Supernatural and Psych belong to their respective creators
Summary: Dean and Sam head over to Santa Barbara when they hear about a case of possible vampire killings. They don’t find a case. They do however crash into a cop’s car, get arrested by said cop, get stalked by a fake psychic and his sidekick, and search for an angel that’s more likely just a witch.
A/N: This was written for the Crossover Exchange for [ profile] princess_vevay.

We're Your Fic: Biggest Fans, We'll Follow You Until We Figure Out What You're Hiding

“We were in there for barely fifteen minutes,” Sam hissed, wiping the blood dripping from his lip as they ran out the back door of poor Teer’s Bar. “How the hell did you start a fight in fifteen minutes?”

Dean grinned at him, looking positively delighted. His fists were bruised, his back was aching, and he was soaked with beer, but damn, that had been fun. “Apparently, the guys in Santa Barbara really don’t like it when you hit on their girlfriends.”

“You threw the first punch!” Sam shot back, as he got into the Impala.

Dean shrugged as he got in as well. “Details.”

“If I’d known that you only wanted to go to a bar to start a fight, then I never would have let you talk me into it.”

“Okay, one, you didn’t let me talk you into anything. And two, I didn’t mean to start a fight. It just happened.”

He wasn’t lying, he really hadn’t meant to start that fight. One minute he’d been talking to this girl with a great ass and a low cut shirt, and the next, her boyfriend had been in his face, seething like an angry ugly-ass bull. One thing led to another and, well, it had seemed in their best interests to leave when they had.

“Accidents just happen.” Sam insisted as Dean backed the Impala out of the parking lot. “Bar fights so not.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, admit it. That was fun.”

“Dean, I think the owners called the cops.”

“We’ll be long gone by then.” He grinned at Sam. “See? At least we didn’t totally waste this trip following your fake vampire case.”

“Hey, it sounded like a vampire from the articles.” Sam defended himself. “There was no way I could have known it was just a human guy and his sister.”

“Yeah, I still think that think that’s fucking creepy. Vampires I get. They’re monster, can’t help ‘emselves. But people?”

“From the interview after they caught him, it seemed like they were really desperate.”

“Yeah, desperately freaky.”

Dean glanced at Sam, expecting an epic bitch face. He was not disappointed. He laughed. “Bitch.”


He turned towards his brother intending to tease him some more. Without warning, the Impala crashed into something, throwing the brothers forward in their seats.

“Sam! Sam, you okay?” Dean demanded, yanking his brother up by the back of his collar.

“I’m fine.“ Sam rubbing his nose winching as he did so. It wasn’t bleeding again luckily. “What about you?”

“I’m good. What the hell—?”

He broke off staring out the window. Sam followed his gaze.

“Oh shit.”

The entire front part of the Impala was completely totaled, crushed up tight up along the side passenger side of a blue convertible.

It took approximately seven seconds for Dean to lose it. “My car!”

“Dean—” Sam tried.

“He fucking totaled my baby!”

“It’s just a scratch—”

“I’ll kill him!“ he screamed struggling with his seat belt “I will fucking kill that blind bastard!”

“Oh boy,” Sam huffed under his breath.

Dean finally managed to unbuckle his seat belt and get out of the car. “You crashed into my car!”

A tall, lanky guy in a suit got out of the other car at the same time. “Are you senile as well as blind?” he snarled, looking just as pissed as Dean as was. “You’re the one that hit me!”

“What the hell are you smoking? You hit me!”

“I was parked right at this stoplight. You’re the one that came speeding down the street at me!”

“I was obeying the fucking speed limit!”

“Obviously you weren’t seeing as you crashed into my car.”

Dean lost it. He took a swing at the guy. Sam, having anticipated this move, grabbed a hold of Dean‘s jacket, pulling him off balance. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for the lanky guy to take the opportunity to slam Dean against the hood of the car.

“A night in the lockup ought to calm you down.” The man sneered, slapping the handcuffs on Dean with more force then was strictly necessarily.

Oh shit. The guy was a cop.

Dean didn’t need to look at Sam to know that his brother currently had one epic bitch face going on.


Both of them ended up in a jail cell. Sam had been arrested as an ‘accessory to assaulting a cop.’ Sam was pretty sure that the real reason was that the cop was pissed about his car. The jail cell was much nicer than most of the cells that they’ve ended up in before in the past. But it’s still a jail cell.

Sam refused to talk to Dean the entire night. Especially after they’re given their one phone call and Bobby doesn’t pick up. Being stuck in a cell for six hours with a pissed off Sasquatch is not fun. Especially when the Sasquatch was freaking out about the fact that the cops could decide to check the trunk of the Impala any second now. Dean wasn’t too worried about that. They had their fake IDs,

That didn’t mean he was enjoying being in jail though. Between Sam’s silent treatment and the fact that he’d spent nine hours straight driving, Dean ended up uncomfortably dozing from boredom. The whole experience was very uncomfortable. However, it was not as uncomfortable as waking up sometime later to see two weirdoes staring at them through the cell bars.

“Who the hell are you?” was the first thing out of Dean’s mouth. He kicked Sam, who had parentally also drifted off sometime after him. Sam woke up at once.

“Did you really crash into Lassie’s car?” asked Creeper number 1.

Dean snorted. “Lassie? You mean the cop? His name is Lassie?”

“It was an accident.” Sam said, jabbing his elbow into Dean’s ribs.

“Dude…” Creeper Number 2 said, almost reverently.

“And he let you live?” Creeper Number 1 looked impressed.

“I’m more surprised he let them keep all their limbs.”

“True. Lassie does seem like the type to maim, doesn’t he?”

“Hang on,” Dean cut in. “Just who the hell are you?”

“I’m Shawn.” Creeper Number 1 gestured to his friend. “And this is Guz Paparazzi.”

Creeper number 2 glared at his fiend. “Just call me Gus.”

“Okay. Hi.” Sam said, uncertainly. “Um, can we help you?”

“We’re just here to tell you that we are your biggest fans.”

Gus nodded. “Anyone who can touch Lassie’s car and get away with is a hero in my book.”

“Hey, he’s the one who crashed into me!” Dean scowled. “Completely wrecked my baby.”

“Your baby?” Gus frowned. “You call your car your baby?”

“It’s a ’67 Impala.” Sam explained.

Shawn whistled. “Nice.”

The door opened, cutting short the conversation. Shawn and Gus straightened up immediately and got weird expressions on their faces. It took Dean a second to realize that they were trying to look innocent.

“Shawn?” A blond lady, likely a cop though she wasn’t in uniform, walked into the room. “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing.” Shawn said a little to quickly. “We were totally not congratulating the guys who totaled Lassie’s car.”

Gus elbowed him in the side, hard.

The lady cop gave them a bemused look. It was clear that she didn‘t believe them. “Right. Just don’t let Lassie see you. Anyway, you two,” she said to Sam and Dean as she unlocked their cell. “Are free to go. Your uncle bailed you out.”

“Thank you” Sam said sincerely.

“It’s no problem. Next time, don’t take a swing at a cop.”

“You took a swing at Lassie too?” Shawn interrupted. “Did you land a hit?”

“Shawn.” The lady cop frowned at him.

“I was just asking.”

“I’m curious too.” Gus added.

“I would have if it hadn’t been for Big Foot over here.” Dean said,

“Okay, you two out.” The lady copy ordered, glaring at Shawn and Gus. The two bolted. She turned to Sam and Dean. “And you two follow me. You just need to sign some forms and then you can leave.”

They followed the lady cop out.

Dean signed the papers quickly without bothering to read them. “Done. Now, where’s my car?”

The lady cop smiled apologetically. “It’s been impounded. You’ll get it back once the paperwork goes through.”

What the hell? Dean was about ready to give the cop a piece of his mind. The only thing that held him back was the fact that Bobby was not likely to bail them out a second time.

“Thank you.” Sam cut in, shooting a look that Dean that clearly said keep your mouth shut. “We’re very sorry about this.”

Dean scowled. Even he knew better than to not piss off the nice cop lady who had just released them from custody. Especially when, any monument now, one of them could realize that the IDs that they were given were fake.

He forced a grin onto his face as he spoke “Yeah, it’ll never happen again. Scout’s honor.”

“Right,” The cop said, her cheeks lightly flushed. “Make sure you don’t Lassie’s likely to kill you the next time.”

Dean was too busy staring at the cop as she left to notice the way Shawn’s eyes narrowed as he watched the scene.


It turned out that Shawn and Gus were really impressed by how Dean and Sam ended up in jail. So impressed that they wanted to take the two out for a celebratory lunch never mind the fact that they had only meet fifteen minutes ago. They turn them down of course. Then Shawn promised Dean the greatest burger he’d ever eat in this hemisphere and that was that. The four of them ended up in a sandwich shop near the station.

“You’re a psychic?” Sam asked.

“A psychic detective.” Shawn clarified. “Employed by the SBPD, the good folk of SB, and the occasional old lady wanting to communicate with her dead cat.”

“Right.” Dean said.

He and Sam exchanged looks. The guy was most likely a fake.

Shawn’s fingers flew to his temples in a classic “I’m having a vision now” position and hummed loudly. “I’m sensing that you too are very close…extremely close…Bert and Ernie close. You’ve been together almost…five years now?”

Sam chocked on his lemonade. Dean chocked on his burger.



“Dude, he’s my brother.” They said simultaneously.

“Nice going Shawn,” Gus muttered.

“Methinks they protesth too muchth.” Shawn said to Gus out of the corner of his mouth.

“No, I think they’re serious Shawn.”

“What! Gus! Back me up here. Why would you possibly say that?”

“They have the same last name.”

“Well, maybe they’re married.”

“Prop 8 passed, Shawn. Same sex couple can’t get married in California.”

“Well, maybe they got married in Canada with a creepy pastor, maple cake, and a moose as the best man.” He paused at Gus‘s look. “Okay, maybe you’ve got a point.”

“Of course he’s got a point.” Dean hissed, glaring at Shawn. He pointed at Sam who had recovered from having lemonade up his nose and was now just sitting there, bemused. “He’s my brother.”

“Huh,” Shawn shrugged. “Well, that‘s what the spirits told me.”

Dean left out an angry huff of breath. There was no doubt in his mind how. This guy was a fake and a freak.

The fake psychic’s sidekick rolled his eyes. “This is just revenge because of Juliet isn’t it.”

“This has nothing to do with Juliet.” Shawn said quickly. “The spirits told me very clearly that—”

“Yeah, sorry dude,“ Dean interrupted. “But I don’t believe in psychics.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say anything. He knew what Dean meant. Pamela and Missouri were the real deal, you couldn’t not believe in them. This guy though, seemed more like a hyperactive twelve year old on a sugar high. Not exactly psychic material.

“Ah, it makes sense now.” Shawn said, back in ‘psychic’ mode. “Your lack of belief is messing with my psychic jubilees.”

“Jubilees are candy.” Sam said uncertainly.

“I’m not messing with your psychic anything.” Dean protested.

Shawn just gave him an annoyingly theatrical pitying look.

“Sorry,” Sam said, smiling. “We just really aren’t big believers of the supernatural.”

Dean’s lip twitched, but he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, science is the way to go.”

“There are things out there that science can’t explain though.” Gus said. “The Santa Barbara Angel for instance.”

“There is no SB Angel, Gus.” Shawn said immediately.

“Three miraculous healings, Shawn? What else could it be?”

“Wait, what angel?” Sam interrupted.

Dean knew that face. It was look Sam always got whenever he thought that they might have a hunt. As if any of the angels that they had met so far would go around healing puppies and shit.

“Trust me,“ he told the two, returning his burger. “It’s not an angel. Angels are dicks.”

Sam jabbed him in the ribs. Dean retaliated with a discreet kick which caused Sam to wince with pain. Then he looked up from his burger to see why his comment had warranted a jab.

Gus was staring at him looking not unlike a scandalized nun. Shawn’s eyebrows were raised so high that they’d practically disappeared into his hairline.

“Sorry about him,” Sam said, smiling apologetically. “What were you saying about an angel?”

Dean tuned them out, focusing on eating his burger. Sam could geek out with the geeks while he ate. He was contemplating whether to buy another one when he suddenly being pulled to him feet.

“Thanks for the meal, we should go now.” Sam said, practically dragging Dean away from their self declared fans.

“What the hell, dude? I was eating.” Dean yanked free of Sam’s hold as they left the restaurant.

“Dean, this is serious. I think we might have a hunt after all.”

Dean scoffed. “Don’t tell me you seriously believe that angel shit.”

“Of course I don’t.” Sam said immediately. “There’s no way it’s an angel.”

“Glad we agree.” Dean said. “Now let’s go bust my baby out of the impound.”

Sam grabbed his arm to stop him. “Dean, weren’t you listening back there?”


Sam sighed. “Well, the Santa Barbara ‘angel’, in between saving puppies and healing broken bones, has also apparently killed someone.”

All thought about the his car flew out of head. “What?”

“Yeah. Latest victim Edward Hert, con artist. Real douche bag. Apparently he dropped dead of what was labeled a heart attack a few hours after he ‘sold’ an elderly couple a house while he real owner was on vacation. Two more con artists have dropped dead before this guy, all of what were labeled heart attacks.”

“Maybe they were just hear heart attacks.”

“I don’t think so. According to those two” Sam said, indicating the restaurant behind them. “the only reason the deaths were labeled heart attacks where because they couldn’t actually find anything wrong with the guys. Well, expect for the fact that they were dead.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “And they still think its an Angel?”

“Hey, smiting the sinners. All the guys dropping dead out of the blue. You have to admit, it kinda sounds like heavenly involvement.”

“So what do you think it is? Ghost?”

“Check your pockets.”

“Why?” Dean asked as he stuck his hands in pocket. He frowned when he found that the pockets were not as empty as he remembered. He pulled the object out and stared at it.


“Thought so.” Sam held out his own hexbag. “I had one in my pocket too.”

“Well, shit.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Is this why my baby crashed?”

Sam suddenly looked shifty. “Well…”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean shouted, startling several passerby. “I’m going to kill that fucking witch.”


They figured that their best suspect was the girl that Dean had been hitting on, which meant that their first stop was the bar they’d been at last night. Unfortunately, the owner remembered them from last night and chased them out. So they headed over the hospital were all of the so called ‘miracles’ had occurred.

“See Gus! I knew there was something off about them!”

Gus nodded. “Sorry for doubting you.

“No prob, buddy. I’ll get over it.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Dean asked. “And why are you here?”

“I’m talking about you. And your ‘brother’. Snooping around this hospital, like Snoopy.” Shawn said.

Gus frowned. “Snoopy didn’t snoop.”

“Really? He didn’t? You’d think that with a name like that he’d be Snoopy the Spy.”

Sam frowned. “Are you two following us?”

“No, we were snooping, like Snoopy the Spy would have snooped if he’d done what his name implied.”


“Right, back on topic. We’re on to you.” He squinted at them. It took Dean a second to realize that he was trying to look menacing.

Dean and Sam exchanged looks.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Dean said.

“Really?” The duo crossed their arms simultaneously in what was likely an attempt tot make themselves appear more intimidating. It didn’t work.

“We’re just traveling around town.” Sam said, trying to look as innocent as possible. “Taking in the sights.”

Usually, Sam looking innocent rarely failed to get them out of a jam. Unfortunately, it was a little hard to look innocent with a busted lip and dark circles under the eyes from spending the night in a jail cell.

“You two really don’t look like the sightseeing types.” Gus said.

“Besides, a bar, and now the hospital? Those really don’t seem like tourist stops do they Gus?”

“No they don’t. Well, expect for the bar.”

“Yeah, the bar I get. The other two, not so much.”

“Why the hell are you following us?” Dean demanded. The last thing they needed was a pair of fan turned stalkers.

“Because you were acting suspicious.” Shawn said.

“Very suspicious.”

Sam shot a look at Dean before turning to the two. “Dean thinks…someone might have tampered with our car, so we—”

“Wait. You think some sabotaged your car?” Gus said with no little amount of disbelief.

Shawn was of similar mind. “Have you considered the possibility that you’re just not a very good driver?”

Luckily, Sam managed to drag Dean out of the hospital, away from those two, before he kicked some fake psychic ass and got landed back in jail.


“I am a fucking good driver.” Dean growled.

“I know Dean.”

“I did not crash my baby.”

“No one’s saying you did.”

“It was that fucking witch‘s fault!”

“Of course it was.”

Dean paused to glare at his brother. “Shut up.”

Sam held up a hand. “Hey, I’m agreeing with you.”

“Yeah, well, stop. This the house?” They stopped in front of a house. It was an ordinary, boring house, with a white picket fence and a dull paintjob.

“Yup. Right, how about you circle around back and I‘ll—”

Dean kicked the door open and walked inside.

“Or we could do that.” Sam finished with a sigh. He pulled out Ruby’s dagger as he followed his brother inside, making sure to close the door when he was inside.

There was the woman in the room, the same one from the bar. She screamed and jumped to her feet when she say them. She grabbed the closest thing near her, which happened to be a TV remote and brandished it at them.

“How did you get in here! I’m calling the police!”

“Yeah, yeah. Cut the crap. We know you’re a witch.” Dean fixed his gun on her.

She paled considerably. “How?”

“You made a mistake” Dean sneered. “you messed with my car. No one messes with my car.”

“You punched my boyfriend!”

“So you tried to kill us?” Sam asked incredulously. “Isn’t that a bit of an overreaction?”

“I was pissed. And if I was really trying to kill you, you’d be dead. I was only trying to scare you a little. Sorry.”

“Sorry ain’t about to cut it, sister. You harmed my baby!”

“Not to mention killed three guys.” Sam sent Dean a look, but he ignored it.

“They deserved it. Hert ripped off my grandparents!”

“That’s not really up to you to decide.”

“According to you!”

That’s when the side door crashed open and two bodies slammed into the witch, pinning her to the ground. She screamed in shock and struggled madly, but couldn’t break free.

“Oh god, not you two again.” Dean moaned.

Sam quickly slipped the dagger out of sight.

Gus grinned sheepishly up at them, but Shawn was too busy looking around.

“Dude,” he said, staring at the shrine. “I’m pretty sure we just caught a witch.”

“Dude, we’re awesome!”


And then they bumped their fists.


Date: 2012-01-08 09:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Thank you! :)

And thanks for pointing that out, I've fixed it now.


moonliteknight: (Default)

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