Detective Jim Ellison, Sentinel
Spoilers: As AU as this thing is, it still has slight spoilers for Bones season two and SPN 'In My Time of Dying.'
Summary: There's a sub-division of the FBI called the SULFUR Unit. They hire some familiar faces and hunt down the supernatural within the greyer boundaries of the law all over the United States. This allows them to interact with some of my other favorite TV procedural dramas.
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. I'm playing in all universes.
Jim muttered under his breath. Nothing that Blair could hear, but it was enough to catch his attention.
"Come on, Chief. There's someone you need to meet." Jim led the way to a gleaming gas-guzzler. A man was just sitting in the driver's seat, head bopping along with the music. The long passenger was curled around a law book. "Winchester," Jim said.
"Ellison," the driver said with a friendly smile. He offered Blair his hand. "Hi, Mr. Sandburg, I'm Dean Winchester. Hop in, dinner's on us."
"Should I be worried?" Blair asked, sentinel-soft.
Jim shook his head 'no' as he slid into the backseat. "Do you have a reason for being here, Dean?" Blair followed his partner into the car and realized when Winchester's partner stretched that he was really tall, maybe even bigger than Jim.
"Other than an excuse to have a Wonderburger with great company?" Dean retorted.
Dean's partner offered Blair his hand over the seat. "Mr. Sandburg, I'm Sam Winchester. I'm pleased to met you at last."
Blair shook Sam's hand shocked. He had to switch gears. They didn't act like brothers.
Jim got right down to business. "What do you have for me?"
Sam handed him a stack of manila files. "Here're the latest."
Blair's curiosity got the better of him. "Latest what?"
"People poking around my file, Chief," Jim answered.
"Are you Feds?" Blair asked suspiciously. It was good that they had someone on their side but could two brothers do anything?
"Yep," Dean answered.
No more information was forthcoming. "What kind of Fed?"
"FBI," Sam answered with a smile.
Blair suffered through a Wonderburger and continually tried to draw information out of the pair. Dean's responses were short and vulgar. Sam could distract like nobody's business with really interesting stories that the anthropologist in him itched to analyze. In the end, Blair still didn't understand what was going on. Jim sat back and watched amused. Finally the Winchesters dropped Blair and Jim off at the police station.
Blair whirled on his partner. "All right Jim. Quit laughing at me. What didn't I ask?"
"What department of the FBI they worked for?"
"Well, what department do they work for?"
"ISULFUR/I! That's like the boogeyman department. What goes into their hands never comes out. The FOIA means nothing to them. License to kill and no accountability. Mom protested them twice or maybe more."
"Oh, they have accountability, Chief."
"How do you know?"
"I do work for them occasionally. They pay me back by letting me know when anyone is snooping around my territory and medical records."
Obviously, they had to be mostly good guys if they knew about the Sentinel and protected him, but still, "Who do they report to?"
"Sorry, Sandburg," Jim didn't sound sorry at all. "You don't have clearance to know that."
"What does the acronym SULFUR stand for?"
"Sorry, Sandburg," Jim said. "You don't have clearance to know that."
"What do you do for them?"
"You don't have clearance to know that."
"We better get back to work or Simon will have our heads."
"Let's go, Chief."
"If you're not going to tell me anything, why did you introduce us?"
"If anything happens to me, I want you to call the Winchesters. You kept the business card Sam gave you, right?"
"Yes." Blair fingered the cardstock in his pocket. He would keep asking questions. Jim would eventually tell him. Or maybe he wouldn't. Jim believed in keeping secrets.