Disclaimer- I've tried wishing on stars, breaking wishbones, blowing out candles, yet nothing seems to work cause I still don't own the Winchesters…
A/N- In this story; Dean and Jo have been married for three and a half years, Bobby and Ellen are dating, Jo is two months pregnant, and Shawn and Juliet have been dating for a year.
A/N 2- I'm so sorry I can't always respond to your reviews! Just know that they are all read and greatly appreciated, I just simply don't have enough time to respond to everyone, so sorry!
Without further delay, please enjoy…
It wasn't unusual to have a quiet night at the Psych agency, but tonight it just seemed eerie. An unnatural thickness hung in the air, and Shawn Spencer, Psychic Detective, was on edge. Something was terribly wrong, he could feel it.
"Shawn, you alright?" Gus, Shawn's childhood friend, asked from his position at his desk.
"I don't know, something just feels…off." Shawn replied, eyes screwed shut in thought.
Gus was concerned now, Shawn never took anything this seriously, not even a MacGyver marathon.
His friend opened his eyes and began scanning the room for anything out of place or unusual. Shawn's gaze finally settled on a small brown bag sitting in the corner of the room. "Gus, is that yours?" Shawn asked, eyebrows raised with suspicion.
"Uh no, I can't say it is." He stated slowly, now staring at the small leather bag with interest.
"Huh." Shawn huffed.
Halfway across town in an old abandoned warehouse sat Anais Harper, wife to a big lead drug dealer who had just been taken down. Shawn Spencer was to blame for her husband's arrest.
Chanting in Latin, she drew a knife across her palm wincing slightly, letting her blood drip into the small bowl filled with herbs below her bleeding hand.
"Patior ut passa sum…" She smoothly drawled.
Because of the half-wit psychic, her husband was in jail, but she needed him here. She needed him for many reasons more than love, more than money.
Anais ran her hand over the bump on her stomach. She was three months pregnant, and Shawn Spencer had taken the babies father. She wasn't going to do this alone, she WOULDN'T do this alone.
He was going to pay, and so was his lanky assistant.
As she began to draw her spell to a close, she let her thoughts wander to how great it would be to read of the Psychic's untimely demise in the papers the next day.
"So were sitting here, staking out a POSSIBLE location for the next witch attack, when I could be at home with Jo?" Dean shot a glare Sam's way.
"We're saving lives, not like that's important or anything." Sam said sarcastically.
"You sure this is the place?" Dean asked skeptically, glancing over at Sam in the passenger's side of the impala.
"Yeah, I'm sure. The witch escaped before we could catch her, but not before I saw a picture of her next victim. So I did some research, turns out he's some big shot private 'Psychic' detective. He's solved over forty 'unsolvable' cases for the local police department." Sam told his brother.
"Alright. You think he's a real psychic?" Dean asked, turning to face his brother.
"It's hard to tell. With the cases he's solved it seems likely, but he could just be over observant. There aren't many people out there that are the real deal." Sam stated, staring at the agency with a skilled eye, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
The car fell into silence for the next few minutes, the Winchester brothers examining every inch of the building, waiting for any sign of distress.
Inside the agency, things were turning for the worst, and fast.
"Gus," Shawn choked out from between coughs, "something's wrong."
Shawn had abruptly began coughing and choking two minutes prior, at first they thought he had choked, but now they were certain it was more than that.
"I'm calling the hospital." Gus stated, rushing to the agency's phone.
Shawn continued hacking, his face contorted in misery, quickly loosing air. Blood began to coat the hand Shawn was coughing into, he needed help, and fast.
They were still watching, waiting for any sign of activity, when they saw him. In the window of the detective agency, a man stumbled into view, coughing violently, a stream of blood cascading from his mouth.
The brothers jumped from the Chevy and ran to the door, only to find it locked. Dean positioned himself in front of the door, raised a foot and kicked it in.
A black man in a lavender colored polo supporting the coughing one screamed, reaching a surprisingly high octave.
"Sam find the bag!" Dean shouted over the insistent coughing.
Sam ran into the room, taking in a quick glance over the room. Dean ran over to help the man coughing, but was punched in the mouth.
"Who the hell are you!?" The man in the polo shouted, dropping the phone he was holding. He was obviously trying to maintain a calm stance, but failing miserably.
"I'm someone who can help, have you seen any small bags anywhere?" Dean asked him, while helping support who he assumed was the psychic.
He was quickly weakening, his air supply running dangerously thin, his eyelids were beginning to droop along with his body.
"I found it!" Sam shouted, while grabbing the small bag from the corner.
He quickly took out his lighter and flicked it open, setting it on fire, blue flames exploding from the bag. He ran over and threw it in the sink, careful not to burn his hand, and turned to check on the man effected by the hex bag.
He was quickly gaining color back to his face, his breathing slowing back down to normal.
"Who are you guys?" He asked finally.
"Were the guys who just saved your life." Dean told him.
"I mean what are you? Feds? How'd you know to burn that bag? What just happened?" Shawn asked, eyebrows raised in question.
"Wow, you ask a lot of question, but that's to be expected I guess." Dean joked, completely ignoring the questions.
Sam walked over and elbowed Dean in the ribs, but then answered his questions.
"We're not feds. My name's Sam, this is my brother Dean, you were just attacked by a witch." Sam explained.
"Wait, a witch? You can't be serious." Shawn laughed.
But one look at their faces said they weren't lying or joking. They were telling the truth.
"Holy crap…" Gus muttered, sinking down onto the couch behind him.
"You need to pack your things and get out of town before she figures out she didn't succeed in her plans." Dean finished.
"Now wait just a minute! Why is a witch after me?" Shawn asked angrily.
"Well, do you have any ex-girlfriends? Any recent falling outs?" Sam inquired.
"No, not that I can think of." Shawn paused and thought for a minute, "Wait, I have a girlfriend. Is she in danger?"
"That depends on who the witch is and what relation she has to you. My advice is to take her and get out of town for a few days, until we can find the witch and take care of her." Dean told him.
"Wait, like murder? You're just gonna waltz up and waste someone that could be innocent?" Gus asked with ferocity, suddenly snapping out of his stupor.
The silence that filled the room after the question answered his question.
"You can't just go and kill someone!" Gus shouted.
"She's a killer, she's not exactly innocent." Dean snapped right back.
Shawn was currently in the corner of the Psych office frantically dialing Juliet over and over again waiting for her to pick up her phone. He was just about to run out and hotwire the blueberry when the junior detective's voice came over the line, he let out a huge sigh of relief.
Blocking out the argument going on in the other room he began to talk to his girlfriend.
"Oh thank God Jules, I was starting to get worried!" He said with a sigh.
"Shawn? Are you alright? Is Gus okay? What's going on?" She asked him, voice filled with concern, never stopping for breath.
He had to laugh at the questions shooting out of her mouth, hearing her immediately assume they were in trouble made him crack up. "Yes, yes, and it's hard to explain. Are you ok?" He responded, answering all of her questions at once.
"Yeah, I'm alright, why wouldn't I be? Shawn what's going on?" She asked, her voice suddenly growing overly serious.
Noticing the swift change in the demeanor, he grew confused.
The reply he received made his blood run cold and his heart stop beating.
Anais Harper was overjoyed. She had cast her first spell! It was tricky getting the small hex bag into Psych office, but this feeling, the end result, was definitely worth the hassle.
She decided she couldn't wait until tomorrow to read about her victory, so she ran out to her car as fast as her pregnant body would allow her too, and dropped into it.
She sped down the streets that lead to the private detective agency, a second home to the man who destroyed her future. She pulled up and parked her black sedan in the parking lot beside the agency, but the scene she saw was not what she was suspecting.
There was a sleek car out front that she determined to be a sixty-seven Chevy Impala, she knew because her husband had been a vehicle enthusiast and she loved that about him. There were also two unfamiliar men in the small building; one of them appeared to be having a fierce argument with the psychics partner, while the other seemed to be trying to calm them down.
These men had stopped her plans, but how did they know how? Not many people knew what was really out there in the dark.
Anger raged inside of her.
No, this was not supposed to happen! The psychic was supposed to be dead, lying on the floor in his own blood, his lungs sitting off to the side of him, joining the body on the floor. These two men, they interfered in her plans, and for that they would be punished. But first she needed to take care of the psychic. And with that thought, she started her car.
Juliet O'Hara had an overall uneventful day. Today she had a day off and she spent it at home. She was watching some TV when her phone began to ring. She didn't reach it the first time, but not two seconds later, it began to ring again. She looked at the caller ID and frantically pressed the talk button.
"Oh thank God Jules, I was starting to get worried!" A male voice shot across the line.
"Shawn? Are you alright? Is Gus okay? What's going on?" A thousand thoughts were running through her head, had something happened?
She heard him laugh over the phone and she began to relax a little. That was until she heard her floorboards creaking near the door. She began to make her way over towards her front door, only to find the hallway empty. Not one to take chances, she walked over to where she kept one of her guns.
"Yes, yes, and it's hard to explain." He told her.
She felt tension drain from her body slowly. That was until she felt the barrel of a gun press up against the back of her head and heard the safety click off.
"I would advise you not to move Miss O'Hara."
The argument between the assistant and Dean was getting more heated. Sam needed to step in before this got out of hand.
"So you admit to killing people before!? I knew it!" Gus shouted at the furious hunter.
"I never said that! Stop with the accusing or-" Sam didn't let Dean finish his sentence, afraid he might regret what he said later.
Shawn ran over and grabbed the keys off of Gus' desk and ran for the door, but Sam quickly grabbed hold of his arm.
"Hey, where ya going?" Sam asked him, observing his frantic body language.
"Someone got Jules." He told him, quickly shoving Sam away and running out the door.
After Sam and Dean exchanged quick glances, they too ran out the door, following Shawn to help save his girlfriend.
The ropes were starting to chafe.
Juliet was tied to a chair in her own living room, hands bound to the arm rests, ankles tied to the chair legs. She was trying to get out of the ropes, but they were expertly tied. Studying the woman she tried to place where she had seen her. Rule one, look for ways to escape. Rule two, Identify your captor.
She had been trying to get free for over an hour with no succession so far. Wherever this woman had learned to tie knots, it had been effective.
She thought over her previous cases. Was there anyone who would have held a grudge? She couldn't think of anyone off hand, but looking further back, she thought of a possible lead.
Anais Harper, wife to big time drug dealer Ben Harper, and judging by the way she carried herself and watched the area around her, she was expecting a child.
She had claimed to know nothing of her husband's profession of choice, no one believed her, but there was no evidence to prove she was lying.
Great, just great.
If this was Anais, she was in trouble. Some people thought that she ran the drug deals herself, that her husband was just a front. If that was the case, this woman was highly dangerous.
She tried struggling again, pulling and stretching the ropes. She winced as the ropes cut into her skin slightly, drawing a small amount of blood.
Anais was setting some things up over a fire, a lot of things she didn't recognize. But there was one thing that stood out.
Small human bones.
She nearly gagged at the thought. This woman was seriously off her rocker. And when she turned towards her with a kitchen knife in her hand, it validated her thoughts.
"The psychic took my love, now I'll take his." She said with a chuckle.
"Anais?" Juliet asked. When she saw a small flicker of resignation, she knew that this was Anais.
"Anais, please put the knife down, you haven't done anything you'll regret yet." Juliet tried to reason.
Anais simply smiled and strolled over to the chair she was in.
"Now Miss O'Hara, this will only hurt for a while. Try to stay completely still."
Anais stuffed some sort of cloth that Juliet determined to be denim in her mouth. After making sure it was tied securely, the woman lowered the knife. Juliet winced and groaned in pain as the knife drew across the sensitive skin of her wrist. Blood began pouring from the cut at an alarming speed, and quickly flowed into the bowl beneath her wrist collecting the blood.
"Your doing absolutely great." Anais said with a sneer.
Just as she began to get lightheaded, her front door burst open. Two men came flying through the door guns in hand, followed quickly by Shawn and Gus.
Guy one fired a shot at Anais.
She began to struggle, ignoring the blood loss, trying to speak through the gag.
The shot hit Anais in the chest, sending her reeling backwards, landing on her back in a quickly forming puddle of blood. She twitched twice, choked once, then finally ceased.
Guy two carefully stepped around the now dead corpse, and made quick work of her bonds. She fell forward, exhaustion and blood loss making itself known. Shawn ran forward and ripped off his jacket, wrapping it around the cut on her wrist. After beginning to apply pressure he pressed his lips against hers in a desperate kiss. He needed to know she was alive, and the kiss filled him with relief.
Shawn turned towards Sam and Dean, who until this point had remained quiet. Slowly taking in the sight of Anais Harper's dead body then moving past it he spoke in a low, cautious tone, "Can you take us to the hospital? Gus appears to be in shock from all the blood…"
"No problem." Sam quickly responded.
Shawn then picked up Juliet bridal style and carried her to the impala, Gus following in a robotic like trance. Sam and Dean soon followed after wiping away their prints and any evidence they were ever there.
Walking out of Juliet's room he felt relieved. The doctor assured him three times that though she had suffered some blood loss, she would be fine. Spotting Sam and Dean in the corner he walked over to join them, leaving Gus to watch over Juliet for a few minutes while he stretched his cramped legs. After standing in silence for a few minutes, Shawn decided it was finally time to talk.
"Thanks…If you guys hadn't busted in when you did, I would be dead. Who knows what would have happened to Gus if I had died." He remarked slightly chuckling.
"It's no problem. Just try not to piss off any more witches." Dean said, slight grin playing his features.
"I'll try." Shawn told him.
And with a final glance their way, he turned back to Juliet's room.
Driving out of Santa Barbara, they watched the scenery go by. They had disposed of Anais Harper, told Shawn the cover story to use (but they suspected he would change it), and made sure the blonde woman named Juliet was okay.
Driving out of Santa Barbara was the same thing they did every week.
And no one but the few they saved would know they were ever there.
A/N 3- I've had this story in my head for a while, just never got around to writing it till now, I hope you all enjoyed my FIRST EVER crossover. I got somewhat lazy at the end, so I'm so sorry that it seemed rushed.
Please feel free to R&R, I'm sorry I can't reply to all of them! I'll start trying to be better about that.