Secret Service Agent Lattimer, Artifact Gatherer
Part 10 of the FBI, SULFUR Division
Spoilers: As AU as this thing is, SPN 'In My Time of Dying' and Season One for Warehouse 13
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 shows.
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. I'm playing in both universes.
When Dean had gotten the directions from Bobby he had assumed that he had enough experience in the Lower 48 to find anyplace. (His two experiences in Alaska and those tiny prop planes were to be forever forgotten.) Bobby had said that the turn off was easy to miss, that there were no landmarks or indicating signs. What he hadn't said was that it was a damn gate in the fence line and that he'd be off-roading.
For the first time during this horrible trip, Dean was happy he wasn't driving his baby. He would have turned around before now if that had been the case. The moving van was horrible in the high grass and then the Badlands. Dodging the low spots that would capture the unwieldy vehicle helped him not think about what was in the back of the van. Finally he arrived at the HUGE warehouse in the middle of nowhere. An older pudgy guy and a younger, fit Fed were waiting in the shade of building.
"I hope you didn't have any trouble finding the place," the younger one quipped. Dean wanted to hate the guy and his grin on sight, but it was exactly something Dean would have said.
"I found it." Dean waited a moment before asking, "May I see some ID?"
Both men looked surprised. The young one had his wallet out first: Dean read Peter Lattimer, Secret Service on the card. The other guy's ID read Dr. Arthur Neilson, PhD and again Secret Service. They were exactly who Dean was told to meet.
Lattimer opened his mouth to ask for Dean's ID, but Neilson spoke first. "Special Agent Dean Winchester of the FBI SULFUR Unit, welcome to Warehouse 13." He glanced back at the moving van. "I presume you have several items for us."
"Yeah," Dean didn't know if he wanted to get into this with strangers and then figured, he'd never see them again. And at least Sammy wasn't here. "Turns out my dad…"
"Special Agent in Charge John Winchester," Neilson broke in for his younger counterpart's enlightenment.
"Him. He didn't trust you guys, so instead of dropping off dangerous things that he couldn't destroy here, he had a storage unit. Where anyone –if they could get past the booby traps- could walk in and take something."
Neilson hmmmed. "Not surprising really, for a SULFUR agent."
"Hey," Lattimer finally joined the conversation. "I've heard of you guys. What do you do?"
"Their job is similar to yours," Neilson told him. "Only they deal less with artifacts and more with people and beings."
Lattimer perked up. "We should trade stories sometime," he offered to Dean.
Dean relaxed for the first time. "Maybe. A beer would be awesome."
"So what does SULFUR stand for," Lattimer asked. "I've always wanted know."
Dean and Neilson chuckled. "It doesn't," Dean admitted. "We just let everyone think it does. Sulfur is what a person smells, or finds, when one of our jobs goes truly sideways. There are several suggestions bandied about the office like Supernatural Undead Life-sucking Furry or Un-understandable Retrieval Unit."
Lattimer blinked. "Undead? Are you talking vampires? Furry? As in werewolves?"
Dean grinned. "Could be," he teased.
"Yes," Neilson said. "Yes, he hunts all those things that you know from fairy tales."
"Ah." Dean watched as Lattimer absorbed the information and the severity of the problem. "Your job is crazier and more dangerous than mine."
Dean shrugged. He did what he did and he shut up about it.
"I'll share the cookies we have inside. We don't keep alcohol here, but you deserve something special."
Dean liked this man. "That'll work. Ready to unload the truck?"