Okee, so; anyone reading this who're still waiting for my NCIS stories; I PROMISE I will get round to them, but I kinda found a new fandom (Hence the crossover) and the muse just wasn't there, y'know? Plus I had loads of college work D:
And all the line breakers in my stories disappeared, which I was NOT happy about :(
Also, this takes place midway through season 2 for Supernatural, and Season 3 for NCIS :)
Send in the clowns
"Dude, I swear, this is what – the fifth carnival we've been to?"
Dean grinned at his brother, "Aha, what's the matter, Sammy? All those clowns staring at you?"
Sam glared over at Dean, "I just don't think that what we're looking for is another Rakshasa. We definitely killed that last one, and they're pretty rare. And they don't have to take the form of a clown."
"What's your point, man?"
"I dunno, maybe it's the spirit of a clown, or an actual guy dressed as one trying to freak people out."
Dean stared at him incredulously, "Since when has it ever been a Scooby-doo scenario?"
There was silence for a moment, before Sam folded, "Point taken. But still, what are we going to do? I mean, the Watsons died in, well… it wasn't humorous, but…"
"Wasn't humorous?" Dean repeated. "Come on, it was hilarious! Who would want to die by drowning in popcorn? Or have their throat cut by their rotating bow tie?"
Sam shrugged, "It seems like the kind of thing that would happen to you."
"I don't know, I've heard about people dying 'mid-coitus', that would…"
"Anyway," Sam cut in quickly. "The daughter said she saw the clown do it. Now the police are claiming she's either in shock, had a nightmare or the guy was dressed as a clown…"
"But other deaths like this have been happening throughout the area." Dean finished. He sighed and leant against the side of a hot-dog stand.
"I think we should go back to the motel," Sam said, shifting closer to Dean when a clown holding some balloons walked past, "and get a new perspective on things in the morning."
Dean snickered, "Are you sure you don't want to stay here a while longer?"
Sam shuddered, "No thanks, this place is reminding me of 'It'."
"Ha! I knew it!" Dean crowed victoriously on the way back to the Impala. "It was because I let you watch that film that you don't like clowns, right? Dude, you tried to climb in my bed every night for about two weeks."
"I was 8!" Sam defended. "I was still freaked out that monsters and ghosts were real!"
"Yeah, whatever, Princess." Dean chuckled, opening the car door.
"You're a jerk." Sam huffed, climbing in.
"And you're a bitch." Dean replied good-naturedly.
"Gear up." Gibbs announced to the bull-pen in the early hours of the morning.
"What happened, Boss?" Tony asked, grabbing his bag and trying to beat McGee to the elevator.
"Gunnery Sergeant Mike Ellis and his wife Katherine were both killed in their home last night," Gibbs informed them, sipping his coffee. "Their ten year old daughter lived, and is being interviewed by the FBI."
"The FBI?" Ziva repeated. "Why would they be interviewing her?"
"There's been a series of murders with the same MO around that area," Gibbs explained. "The kids always survive, and the victims die in unusual ways."
"Unusual?" McGee questioned.
By this point they'd stepped out of the elevator and were getting in the car. Tony quickly grabbed shotgun, leaving McGee and Ziva to sit in the back while Gibbs turned the engine on.
"Yeah, McGee, unusual," Gibbs replied. "I got Ducky to look up some of the other killings before he meets us at the scene."
"And?" Tony questioned, trying to keep his breakfast down as Gibbs did 70 in a 40mph zone.
"And if you make any movie references when I tell you, I'm going to do 4G turns in this next junction." Gibbs threatened.
"Aw, Boss, that hurt." Tony replied, but said nothing more, waiting for Gibbs to tell them about the deaths.
"Some died by… suffocating in cream pies in their faces, drowning in popcorn, throats cut from metal bow ties on their necks. And here's the kicker," he paused as he spun round a corner, "the kids identify a clown as the attacker."
"Huh," Tony spoke up. "A killer clown, killing people in clown-like ways… kinda like my man Jack in 'Batman'. Or in 'It'…" He quickly stopped grinning as Gibbs' face became tighter and he pulled the steering wheel harder, the car barely remaining under control.
Tony could just hear McGee muttering 'I hate you, DiNozzo' as they sped onto the highway.
Sam turned over in his sleep slightly as Dean stumbled into the motel room. He'd gone from the bar to a girl's house, then back to the bar before finally coming back in. He wasn't drunk; they were on a job, but he was… enjoyably numb.
He was about to say something, before he realised his brother was asleep. Shaking his head slightly, he whispered, "You should've stayed, Sam; you need more fun in your life. Make friends with a clown or something…" he chuckled at his own wit, and turned his attention to the TV.
Sam must have left it on before hitting the sack, he decided, and was about to turn it off when he saw a news update. He slowly lowered himself and sat on the end of Sam's bed to watch it.
"This news just in," the reporter said, a grim expression on his face, "we've just been informed of another murder by an as yet unknown killer, described by the children of the victims to be a man dressed in a clown suit. The victims of this newest attack are said to be Michael Ellis and his wife Katherine, however, their daughter Samantha remains uninjured, although she is being held for questioning."
"Shit." Dean murmured, glancing at the time in the corner of the TV screen. Five past six in the morning. Had he been out for that long? He shrugged; maybe he could get an hour or two of sleep, then wake Sam and go check the place out. They'd probably find nothing, like in the other houses, but it was better than just sitting on their asses and calling Bobby, hoping he'd have an answer.
Deciding on his action plan, he set the alarm for eight and settled down, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Having been given their assorted jobs, Ziva, McGee and Tony set off around the house. The bodies had just been taken away to the navy yard while Ducky was outside trying to coax the little girl into saying something. She remained stoic, and didn't say anything when both Gibbs and Ducky questioned her.
The parents had both had pom-poms shoved down their mouths, and so there wasn't that much to take pictures of after initially taken the pictures of the bodies. Tony ventured upstairs however, thinking there may be something up there. He paused as he heard something being placed down on what sounded like a table after being picked up. After 4 years at NCIS, he knew what that sounded like, and quickly took his gun out, moving silently through the house to reach the room that was occupied.
Outside, Gibbs was talking to Ziva until he heard Ducky talking to someone who wasn't with them. Looking around he spotted a young man with the same cocky stance he saw in DiNozzo.
"So, Dr Mallard, was it?" He asked, grinning winningly.
"Yes, Ducky, to my associates."
"Alrighty then, Ducky; cause of death?"
"It seems that they had pom-poms forced into their mouths, which then stuck in their throats. A horrible way to go, but I remember…"
"Duck?" Both men looked around to see Gibbs stood there. He sized the other man up and asked coldly, "And you are?"
"My name's Agent Greg McGuiness, I'm with the FBI," He quickly flipped his badge up for Gibbs to look at. "We're just looking through the case, you know, routine…"
"Oh yeah?" Gibbs challenged. "Because I threw every FBI agent off the scene and got the case handed over to us."
"Oh," the man faltered. "Right… and who's 'us'?"
"NCIS. Special Agent Gibbs."
"Well, Agent Gibbs, with all due respect, if I could just get a quick look at the body, see how the case is…"
He was cut off by the sound of a struggle from inside the house. Both he and Gibbs turned to see Tony pulling a tall man out of the house, his head bleeding and in handcuffs.
He was quickly drowned out by the FBI agent yelling angrily, "Hey, let him go, you bastard! He's with me!"
Tony stopped and looked over at Gibbs, before looking back, "Okay… who are you?"
"Agent Greg McGuiness, I'm…"
"Dean?" They all looked to see the tall guy wince a few times. "Why am I in handcuffs?"
"You just said your name was Greg." Tony said, uncertainly, glancing at Gibbs, who was glaring at both strangers.
"Yeah, it's my partner – that whack to the head you must have given has, y'know, messed with him or something."
"Okay, who are you and what are you doing on my crime scene?" Gibbs yelled, grabbing Dean by his arms and shoving him against a van.
"Easy up, man," Dean said. "Just, calm down and I'll tell you. And will you tell your agent over there to let go of my brother?"
"You said he was your partner."
"I lied," Dean said impatiently. "Look, we…"
"How about you just tell us why you were here back at NCIS."
Dean sighed but could see no way out of it, "Fine," he conceded, "but will you let my brother go?"
Gibbs nodded and Tony undid the hand cuffs, letting the tall man walk over to Dean, rubbing his head.
"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked, in a tone that McGee thought was way too protective for siblings. He was close to his little sister, but he wouldn't talk to her like that.
"I'm fine," he muttered. "But he caught me off guard, I should've been able to floor him."
"You're out of practice," he grinned, unaware that the agents were listening. "You just need to battle with a demon and you'll be good as new."
"I'd prefer to take my chances with a werewolf or a vampire," Sammy replied. "They're easier."
Dean laughed, "Tell me that after you get beaten up by one."
Gibbs shook his head as they bundled the supposed brothers into a car with McGee driving. They were clearly insane. But before he sent them to the men in white coats, he needed to find out what they were doing in that house.
So… like it? Want it continued? And I have a plan for this as well! I usually just wing it, but today I have a plan :D So, yeah; review? Xx