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22 December 2008 @ 02:08 pm
Numb3rs/Supernatural Fic: 50 Miles South of Duluth  
Posted to numb3rs_slash
Crossposted to sn_crossovers

Title: 50 Miles South of Duluth
Pairing/Characters: Billy/Dean, Sam, Ellen, OCs
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Pilot, Everybody Loves a Clown, The Usual Suspects, Folsom Prison Blues (Supernatural), Man Hunt (Numb3rs)
Summary: FBI Agent Billy Cooper is assigned to hunt the fugitive Winchester Brothers
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ

May 3rd

Agent Rogan hands him the case file, warns him the Winchesters are going to be tough to catch, that Dean's a slippery bastard.

Billy scoffs and says he'll have them both back inside in less than a week.


May 8th

They give him the slip in Nebraska and he has to eat his words.

He hates that almost as much as he hates the smug tone in Rogan's voice.



May 9th

Additional case data comes in along with documentation from the brothers' lawyer.

Things don't look so cut and dried anymore, but it's still his job to find them.


May 11th

He catches up with them just over the state line. They just won't ditch that damn Impala. It's their undoing every time, even if they do keep switching the plates.

He sees them carry a woman out of an abandoned building and he hesitates.

He follows their car to the hospital where they bring her to the ER.

He orders a uniform to be put on her room, but while he's waiting, he loses them again.

They were in plain sight and then they just weren't.


May 12th

He corrals one of them in a bar and quietly calls for backup to cover the rear entrance while he waits for the other one to show up.

He sidles up to the older brother, Dean, at the bar. He gives him a nod. Dean nods back and gives him a smile.

Damn he's pretty.

Small talk, social enough to show interest but not be interpreted as flirting. This is the fucking heartland after all.

He buys a round.

A fight breaks out across the room

A gun comes out.

He has no choice. No laying low now.

When he's done cuffing the idiot who blew his hunt, Dean's gone.

The cop at the back shrugs and the bouncer at the front door shakes his head.


He is one slippery bastard.


May 14th

The cop from Baltimore finally returns his call. She's a decorated detective and he respects that. He doesn't know what to make of her ghost story, but he's seen enough weird shit on the job to cut her some slack.

That and she says the Winchesters save lives.

He gets off the phone and calls his cousin, asking if her pansy ass professor husband is around. She laughs and gives him his work number at the university.

An hour later, he sits stunned on the motel room bed.

This stuff really could be real.


May 16th

He blows off the hunt for a day following up on leads from the professor, the cop and a few local resources the professor suggested to he look for.

A lead takes him to a bar where the tough as nails type woman behind the counter gives him the evil eye, but a wiry old man opens up to him with the assistance of a bottle of Jack.

He's a hunter.

When Billy asks him what he hunts, the man tells him.

For about three hours.

Five or six other hunters join them, reluctant at first to share their stories with an outsider, but finally recognizing Billy as one of their own.

A hunter.

He ends up following a team of hunters going out on a tip.

They drive up to a shithole motel afterwards, scraped, beaten and bloody.

They all get rooms, shower and crash just before dawn.

Billy sits up for hours, his brain still unable to grasp what he saw.


May 18th

Rogan calls for an update.

Billy tells him to go fuck himself, but only after he's hung up the phone.

It doesn't help.

He has this feeling in the pit of his stomach that putting the Winchesters in jail might mean more people dying than if they were left free.


May 19th

He goes back to the Roadhouse.

This time the woman behind the counter gives him a silent nod and hands him a beer on the house.

Evidently he's one of them now.

Somehow that both comforts him and creeps him out in equal measure.

He tells this woman Ellen about meeting Dean.

Her defenses go up, but he charms her and she talks, tells him about the boys' father.

She tells him about their mother.

He gets it now.


May 21st

Billy goes hunting for the Winchester brothers.

But first he calls in, claiming he needs a few sick days.

He can't be on the clock for this.


May 24th

He finds them.


Moosehead Bar, Pinprick Minnesota, about 50 miles south of Duluth

Billy slid a folded twenty-dollar bill across the bar as the bartender handed him his beer.

"This seems like a pretty rough crowd," he said in a low voice. "Mind telling me what I stumbled into before I get myself in trouble?"

"Thursday," the bartender said, pulling the bill towards him and shoving it in his pocket. "Just an average Thursday crowd, only don't be going and telling anyone you're the law if you want to be walking out of here on your own two feet."

Billy nodded in understanding. "Thanks for the advice."

"Oh and don't ask anyone to play pool and don't try to get into a game. That's a sure way of pissing these guys off. They don't cotton to hustlers."

"I'm not a hustler."

"Don't matter much. You're a stranger. Only reason for a stranger to shoot pool in a bar is to make money."

"No pool then, got it." He slid a photo across the pockmarked wood bar. "Seen either of these guys?"

The bartender glanced at the picture. "Both. Gave the shorter one the same advice last night. He was smart enough to take it. Now he was clearly a hustler. Had the wad of cash to prove it even."

"Anything else you can tell me about them? Anything they said, did?"

The bartender shrugged. "They sat in that far booth over there. They had papers and a book with them and they just talked, far as I can tell... Flirted with the waitress, but didn't pinch her ass so I figured they were okay."

Billy glanced over at the booth, which was vacant, same as most of them were. The action in the bar seemed to be centered around the pool tables.

"If you think of anything else, let me know. And if you see them..."

"If I see them, you'll see them too," the man said gruffly, taking a tray of glasses from the waitress and walking off with them.

He nursed his beer in a corner booth for the better part of an hour, eyes flitting between the entrance and the back door while the rest of him remained almost motionless, trying to dissolve into the wood paneling.

A little after ten they showed up and Billy's body automatically tensed, part at the exhilaration of a hunt nearing completion and part at the sight of Dean sauntering in wearing a leather jacket and jeans.

Billy had always scoffed at the pretty boys with their turned up polo shirt collars and snobbery, but this was a dirty pretty boy - kind of an irresistible combination. It was like a fantasy he'd never realized he'd had - wanting to drag a pretty boy down into the mud until he was soiled, roughened around the edges, and Dean was all that and more.

He had to wait ten agonizing minutes before Sam headed to the men's room. Billy slipped into the dark hallway after him and once he was inside, he barred the door so he couldn't get out.

The music at the back of the bar was loud enough that no one would hear him pounding on the door, but he figured he had only a few minutes before someone else needed to use the restroom, so he had to work fast.

Using his best stealth and speed he made it over to Dean undetected and slid into the booth across from him.

"I have a gun. Stay right where you are." Dean froze, hand halfway to his own weapon. "My partner has your brother so don't even think about it."

Dean cast his eyes about and realized he couldn't see Sam anywhere.

"You son of a bitch, what did you do to him?"

"Nothing. He's just cooling his heels while we have a little chat."

"What are you, Feds? Bounty hunters?"

"Oh, I'm a hunter all right. Just like you." Billy leaned in and spoke in a low voice, "You know how this ends. You run, I chase you. So why don't we sit and have a drink, talk for a bit first?" He pulled back and could see the instinct to bolt in Dean's eyes, but there was curiosity there too; he hadn't moved a muscle since Billy spoke. "Maybe you can tell me how you saved those prison inmates from a vengeful spirit or about the death omen that came after Detective Ballard in Baltimore?"

This time Dean's expression was one of shock.

"How do you know about all that?"

"Maybe it's my job to chase you," Billy said in his normal tone of voice. "And maybe," his voice lowered to a throaty rumble, "I'm off the clock." Dean's eyes widened and Billy saw his opening. "Call Ellen," he said, sliding his cell phone across the table. "Ask her about me. The name's Billy Cooper."

Dean looked at the cell phone, but made no movement to pick it up. "I don't know her number," he lied.

"The Roadhouse is in my contacts list. You can dial it from there," Billy said graciously as he flagged the waitress for another beer.

Dean took the phone warily and dialed. "Ellen? Dean. What can you tell me about a guy named Billy Cooper?" He paused, first worry then surprise on his face. He looked up at Billy and caught his eyes just before the waitress appeared with his beer. "We're okay. Don't worry. Thanks." He snapped the phone shut and put it back on the table, sliding it across. "So what do you want?"

"The truth," Billy said plainly. "I was sent to bring you back to jail, but if you can convince me that the world is safer by letting you go I'll walk away and leave you alone for good."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, but you're a Fed. Hendrickson will just send someone else after us."

"Probably. I don't have any control over that. But they won't be anywhere near as good as I am."

"Pretty cocky, aren't you?" Dean huffed.

"Takes one to know one," Billy tossed back, taking a swig of his beer. "So what will it be? Do we talk or do I pull out my cuffs?"


Sam approached the table and Dean reacted with split second timing. He took advantage of Billy's distraction to pull his keys from his pocket and throw them at Sam.

"Sammy! Go!" he shouted. To his credit, Sam bolted on order, running out the door at top speed. Billy imagined he could hear the Impala's wheels squealing as Sam fishtailed it out of the parking lot. Dean turned to him, appraising him anew. "So no partner. You really are on your own, cowboy."

Billy flashed him a wry grin. "Still got the gun. Still want answers." He cocked his head towards where Sam had just left. "That was just to make sure I had your attention."

"Fine," Dean said, a little curtly. "You've got it. But leave Sam out of this. I swear if you touch him..."

"Did I not just let him go?" Billy interrupted. "Your brother has a warrant out for him, same as you. It's not up to me to decide if you guys are criminals or not." He let out a deep breath. "But I can give up the chase, even postpone giving it up so the trail goes cold for the next guy, but you have to give me some answers."

Dean stared at him for a moment without speaking.

"You were in that bar a couple weeks back, where the fight broke out," he said finally. "I thought maybe you were trying to pick me up or something."

"Yeah, my job is that pesky 'or something'." Billy pushed his beer aside. "My motel room is just down the street. It's quieter there."

He stood and waited as Dean's eyes raked over his form head to foot and back again.

"Yeah," he said, making no attempt to hide what he was thinking. "Your motel room sounds about right."

"To talk, Dean," Billy said, hoping it sounded convincing.

Dean rose and brushed past him - closer than he needed to - on the way to the exit. "Talk, yeah. I can do that."


Dean wouldn't get into the SUV without looking around inside first, but otherwise the three-mile drive was uneventful. He walked into the motel room with the same watchful eye, cataloging the hiding places and exits, Billy assumed.

Billy hadn't disarmed him, but he also hadn't taken his hand off his own weapon since they left the bar.

Satisfied, Dean pulled out a chair and threw himself into it, sprawling his frame across the wooden arms. A part of Billy wondered if it was a purposeful display, but tried hard not to show his interest.

"So what do you want to know?"

"The charges against you," Billy began, arranging himself in the chair opposite Dean. "The bank robbery first. Did you do it?"

"Didn't steal anything from that bank."

"Did you break in?"

"Kind of." Dean smirked. "It's a long story."

"Long stories are what I'm here for," Billy reminded him. "Did you shoot anybody?"

"Absolutely not."

Billy stared him down for a moment then nodded in acceptance.

"Did you break into the museum with the intent to steal artifacts?"

"I broke into the museum, but it wasn't my intent to steal anything."

"Can you honestly tell me you committed a crime just to get into prison so you could save the lives of inmates?"


Billy didn't doubt a word he said.

"And did you? Save them?"

A shadow passed over Dean's face. "Not all of them," he said, suddenly drained of his bravado. "Tiny. I saw him die. The thing went for me, but I chased it off. I didn't realize it would take him instead."

The depth of Dean's guilt and sincerity was like a kick to the chest.

"Maybe you'd better tell the story from the beginning."

"What, from the break in or from when we got to the prison?" Dean asked.

Billy leaned forward, looking at Dean intently.

"Start with your mother."


The whiskey bottle sloshed as Dean slid it across the table to Billy who refilled his plastic cup.

"Wendigos ... Those I'd actually heard of," Billy mused. "Did some hunting up near an Indian reservation and heard a lot of the tales in the bar I was staking out at night. Course I never believed in a million years they were real."

"Welcome to my world," Dean said as he took off his leather jacket and slung it behind his chair. "It's quite a ride."

"I'll say." Billy stared into his drink for a moment. "When I went out with the hunters from the Roadhouse... It blew my mind. I spent the whole next day wandering around my motel room staring at the walls like I was some kind of nut job. I'd be dead now if they hadn't known how to kill that... thing." He spat the word out with a kind of distaste. "But nothing made their stories more real than that creature attacking me, that's for damn sure."

"It didn't bite you, did it?" Dean asked.

"No." Billy stood and raised up his shirt to reveal still red stripes of gashes across his torso. "But it did give me some scars to remember it by."

"Huh," Dean scoffed. "Those are nothing. Kitten scratches." He stood and tore his shirt off, tossing it aside and baring his chest with a kind of alcohol infused bravado. "These are some real scars."

Billy had to blink at first, caught up in the expanse of honey-tanned skin, but once he looked closer, the ever so slightly raised paler scars began to stand out.

"Holy shit," he murmured. "Let me see..." Absentmindedly he tugged Dean's arm so he was closer to the lamp by the door. Once he was in slightly better but still dim light, he crouched down a little for a closer look. "Man, somebody seriously messed you up."

"Try somebodies or better yet some things," Dean huffed. "That's a lifetime of scars right there. That's what you get when you're raised a hunter."

Billy reached out and ran his fingertips over a long scar across Dean's ribs and over his chest. It took a few seconds to realize he'd been holding his breath, the contact distracting, the energy in the room becoming palpable.

"You do it until you finally get what you're hunting," Billy mused thoughtfully. "Or until it gets you."

"You never get everything you're hunting," Dean responded, his voice oddly subdued.

"Exactly." Billy stood back up, eye to eye with Dean. His eyes flicked from Dean's face to his neck. "Looks like one got you."

"Yeah, but the bastard got what he deserved..." Dean's voice trailed off as Billy stepped in closer to examine the scars at the juncture of Dean's neck and shoulder, running a thumb across them in slow passes.

"All these scars..." His hand slid down, cataloging each damaged region of Dean's chest. "All those times you could have died..." His hand came to rest over Dean's stomach where he could feel the increasingly rapid rise and fall of each breath. He brought his eyes up to meet Dean's, offering and demanding clarity. "Was it worth it?"

"Yes," Dean said without hesitation.

The charged atmosphere between them almost crackled: Dean standing tall and defiant as Billy was drawn closer by an almost magnetic pull.

Abruptly Billy stepped away, grabbed Dean's shirt and threw it to him.

"Get out."

"What?" Dean caught the shirt easily, but was still thrown by the sudden shift in Billy's demeanor.

"You can go."

Dean eyed him warily. "If this is some kind of trick? To get me to lead you to Sam?"

"Damn it, Dean! I let Sam go hours ago! If I really wanted you both in jail you'd be there already, understand?" Billy stood a safe distance away, hands on his hips as he pulled himself together. "It's not a trick," he said finally. "Apparently you came here with some stupid idea that if you let me fuck you I'd let you go. Well, I'm saying that's not who I am. That's not what I wanted." He raised himself up to full height, every bit as defiant as Dean. "So get the hell out and go back to doing what you do."

There was a pause of a second where the room was dead silent, the low rumble of the nearby highway the only sound.

Then Dean grabbed his jacket and bolted from the room, leaving so fast the door was left open behind him.

Billy walked to the door slowly and stared out into the night. Dean was already gone.

He closed and locked the door then plopped down on the bed, putting his head in his hands as a long tired sigh escaped him.

Lying back on the bed he kicked off his shoes and socks and waited for sleep to come wipe away the doubt.


His eyes, heavy with whiskey seduced sleep, popped open when the banging came on the door.

Hand automatically going to his gun, Billy approached the door with caution.

"Cooper! Open up!"

He might have known him for less than twenty-four hours, but Dean's voice was burned into his brain. He'd recognize it anywhere.

He put away his gun and unlocked the door. Dean barged in, no pleasantries, no explanation.

"What are you doing back? I told you could go," Billy asked, perplexed.

Dean sidled up to Billy, getting into his personal space. "Something I need to do first."

He reached out to Billy, but Billy backed away, wary. "I told you you didn't have to do this."

"Yeah, well maybe I came back because I wanted to."

A little dazed by the revelation, Billy stared at Dean a few seconds until comprehension came to him. Grabbing Dean by the lapels of his leather coat, he pushed him back against the door.

"You came back because I'm good, damn good. I caught you, I beat you at your own game. I had you completely under my control and I think you like that. You don't get that much in your life, do you? Someone else taking control?" He breathed the words into Dean's neck as he leaned in close. Reaching behind Dean, Billy locked the deadbolt on the door. "So until I let you out that door? Your ass is mine."

"Nice try, motherfucker," Dean spat back unconvincingly. "If you think for a minute you're in charge here..."

Billy took hold of Dean's leather jacket again, but this time he slammed him hard against the door then pinned him, crushing their mouths together in a brutal forceful kiss.

Dean fought him with his body, but met him as an equal when it came to the kiss: thrusting his tongue into Billy's mouth, sucking Billy's tongue into his.

Billy managed to push the leather jacket off Dean after a struggle and his hands set to work exploring the taut muscles under Dean's olive drab t-shirt. Greedily he drank in the body under his hands, bearing Dean's protesting blows and shoves, treating them as ineffectual as they essentially were.

When he got down to Dean's ass - firm and round in his soft worn jeans - Dean stopped struggling. Billy brought their groins together, the rough skritch of denim on denim garnering both of their attention immediately.

Dean's fight returned to him, only now it was a fight for more. He near tore the shirt off Billy, mouth latching onto his shoulder as his hands fell to Billy's ass, encouraging the grinding motion that had gotten both of them hard fast.

With some effort, Billy insinuated a hand between them, popping open the buttons on Dean's fly. Dean returned the favor, undoing Billy's jeans and slipping a hand inside to stroke him.

"Fuck..." Billy laid his forehead against the door as his body flooded with pleasure at Dean's assured grip.

When Dean finally withdrew his hand, Billy grabbed him and turned him to face the door, stripping his t-shirt off as well. He worked Dean's jeans and boxers down until they got to his thighs and dropped the rest of the way down to his ankles. Pulling him back off the door to lean against his front, Billy let his hands roam over Dean's nude torso and down to encircle his erection.

"You're so damn pretty," he murmured in Dean's ear as he jacked his cock just slow enough to tantalize.

"Then fuck me already," Dean grumbled, rubbing his ass back against Billy. Dean put his hands on the door to brace himself, bending over slightly.

Rummaging in his pocket, Billy pulled out a condom and a packet of lube before shoving his own pants and boxers down. It only took a few seconds to slick Dean up, but he seemed to relax a little at the sound of the condom wrapper being torn open.

Billy's hands took in a whole new set of scars on Dean's back until they came to rest on his ass, caressing the firm globes as he watched his cock twitch against the crack.

"Down," Billy ordered, pushing Dean's back so he bent further at the waist. He was heady with alcohol and lust and the tiny part of him that still remembered the oath he took at the FBI was screaming about what a bad idea this was.

He lined up his cock, rubbing teasingly at Dean's entrance until something just short of a whine rose up from the other man, and plunged in.

Dean's grunt was almost drowned out by Billy's unplanned moan of pleasure. They both froze for a brief moment, overwhelmed with the reality of getting what they both had wanted do desperately.

Billy's hips snapped into action and he pumped into Dean violently, his fingers digging into his hips with bruising force. Dean fell to his forearms, pressing them into the door hard to keep stable against Billy's superior force.

Every thrust Dean pushed back to meet him. Each time he grazed his sweet spot Dean clenched around him. Every motion reinforced that Dean was strong, but Billy was just a little stronger.

Pausing just briefly, Billy pulled Dean up to stand. With one hand on Dean's cock and the other on his hip, he set a rhythm, rocking Dean between the two sensations.

The smug confident bastard dissolved away and only the raw man remained.

Billy thrilled as Dean turned himself over into his hands, his body at his mercy.

Stepping up his efforts, he felt Dean falter then flail as he unerringly stabbed his prostate on each stroke. With a guttural yell, he squeezed the orgasm out of Dean's cock just as he exploded himself, vision going white then gray then almost black as the electric shock illuminated his insides.

They nearly collapsed in a boneless tumble, but the door held them both up, just barely. They panted hard, pulling in great heaving breaths until Billy finally recovered enough to withdraw.

"Holy shit," he muttered.

"Right back at you," Dean managed.

Billy staggered over to the bed and collapsed on it while Dean turned his back to the door and sank down to sit on the floor, resting his forearms on his bent knees as he let his head fall to his chest.

After a moment to rest, Billy rolled over on his side to look at Dean.

"Why did you come back?"

Dean finally lifted his head, a ghost of a smirk on his face.

"You know how I told you I remembered you from that bar a few weeks back?"

"Yeah, you asked if I was trying to pick you up or something. I told you that the 'or something' was my job."

"Well, let's just say my 'or something' was my job too."

Billy nodded sagely.

"So we both took a day off today then."

"Yeah, guess so..." Dean rose gingerly, arching and stretching like a cat. Billy watched, eyes unabashedly taking in the sight as Dean pulled his pants and boxers back up, leaving them unbuttoned as he walked over to stand next to where Billy lay on the bed.

"You know, I'm a Federal agent. I can't just let you stay here while I sleep. I could wake up cuffed to the bed having to explain how you stole my gun." He cocked his head and looked at Dean. "Sam doesn't know you're here, does he? I bet he doesn't even know you're gone."

Dean shrugged. "I left a note just in case, which I full intend on getting rid of before he wakes up."

"You told him?" Billy blinked in surprise.

"Calm down, cowboy." Dean chuckled. "I just said I went to see someone I hooked up with in a bar."

Billy fell silent for a moment. "Yeah, this doesn't end well - for both of us. The old ships that pass in the night thing."

Dean shrugged. "Ever thought about taking up hunting? War on evil's a big job. We could use some extra hands."

Billy lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"I think I just saw my life pass before my eyes."

"You get used to it," Dean said. When Billy said nothing further, Dean turned away only to get stopped by Billy's hand tugging at his belt loop.

"Hey... Just because I can't sleep doesn't mean you can't." He cocked his head at the open space on the bed beside him. "How long has it been since you had someone to be lookout while you got a good sleep for once? You could probably use it."

"See, for me to get good sleep..." Dean began, almost apologetically.

"I've already salted all the windows. Just need to do the door."

Dean blinked for a moment and watched as Billy rose, brushed past him and brought a box of salt out from the bathroom. He poured it meticulously across the threshold and checked the salt on the windows before leaving the box on the table next to the whiskey.

"Stay," he said simply.

Dean looked at him and a nod - of respect or affection or even understanding Billy wasn't sure - was all he offered in response.

"All right then."


Dean slept like a corpse.

More than once Billy found himself putting a hand to his mouth to assure himself there were still regular exhalations there.

Just after five in the morning, a car backfiring in the parking lot woke Dean. He was up like a shot and it took a few seconds before Billy could get him to stand down from attack mode.

Once he crawled back into bed, Dean pulled the sheets down and slid between Billy's legs, taking him into his mouth before he could protest, speak or even take a breath.

To see those pink lips encircle his cock was entrancing enough, but clearly Dean had plenty of experience at this since Billy was reduced to nonverbal responses right from the start.

His hands fisted in the pillow behind his head as he fought not to buck up into the sucking heat of Dean's mouth.

Where lube came from Billy wasn't sure, but the second Dean's slicked finger crooked in his ass his brain short circuited with pleasure and he rocked between the two sensations greedily, a litany of curse words falling from his lips.

He was in an ecstatic haze by the time he heard the condom wrapper and decided he didn't care. What he'd known about Dean - that he secretly craved someone stronger to take control - was also true of him at times.

Dean pulled off, lined up and slid home, burying himself inside Billy in one smooth thrust.

"Holy fuck," Dean muttered, gripping Billy's thighs as he struggled to maintain his control. After a couple of seconds he was back, starting slow then slamming into him as they both escalated.

Billy's hands sought out the headboard rungs and grabbed them to brace himself, meeting each harsh thrust eagerly. His cock bobbed ignored against his belly until Dean wrapped his hand around it, slicked from extra lube.

A squeezing twisting grip later Billy came undone, body wracked with orgasmic jolts as Dean kept up the onslaught.

Then it was Dean's turn to stiffen, a shudder shaking his body as he went rigid, teeth clenched.

Collapsing in a sweaty tangle, Dean laid his head on Billy's chest and they gasped their way back to languor.

After ten minutes, Dean was asleep, still sprawled over Billy's body.

Billy closed his eyes against the glare of the coming dawn and figured it wouldn't hurt to let Dean stay there a while.


When Billy woke his gun, badge and cuffs were right where he left them.

Cursing himself for falling asleep, he did a quick search for Dean even though he knew he was gone.

A crumpled brown paper bag was on the table that hadn't been there the night before.

Lacking notepaper, Dean had scrawled on the front, 'Wear this - all the time'.

Inside was a kind of talisman on a long leather string. It was small and looked a bit like a necklace save the cryptic engravings on the metal disc.

The back of the bag had more writing. 'This keeps people from getting possessed.'

Further down, in smaller script - more like an afterthought - were a few final words.

'Keep your head down.'

It wasn't the goodbye Billy had imagined, but it was a good one.

He slipped the talisman's strap over his head and went to take a shower.


May 25th

Billy takes another sick day.

He spends it at the movies alone.


May 26th

Billy clocks in and follows leads on where the brothers went. He interrogates each witness so long they get confused enough to not be sure what they saw. The one witness who doesn't rattle he makes sure to screw up their contact information so whoever gets the case after him will have a hard time finding him.

He gets a few town busy bodies convinced they did see Dean and Sam earlier that day and is sure to meticulously document their contact information.


May 27th

He stakes out a bar for an evening on a supposed tip. They have good hot wings and decent beer on tap.

He worries that he's not feeling guilty about tricking the FBI.

He worries more about Dean.


May 28th

Memorial Day.

Instead of going to the local military ceremony, he goes back to the Roadhouse.

There are fallen soldiers in other wars.

They greet him like a comrade in arms and share stories of those they had lost.


May 29th

Billy reports in that the trail has gone cold and requests reassignment to a new case.

They give him a prison break in Tupelo.

He takes it.

And when Agent Rogan sneers down the phone line at how much of a slippery bastard Dean Winchester is, Billy just agrees.

And then he tells him to fuck off before he hangs up the phone.

Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on December 22nd, 2008 10:09 pm (UTC)
This was written for my friend Mags aka penguingal's birthday... In 2007.

/hangs head in shame/

We were chatting about what she might want last summer and during the course of the discussion about maybe doing a crossover she got a flash of Billy/Dean. She and I (and Mel) all had our heads go splodey from the freckle hotness all at once. Post Folsom Prison Blues Dean and Sam were technically both fugitives so it made sense that Billy, working Fugitive Recovery, get assigned to them, so that was her request. Oh, and up against a wall fucking, because you know you can't go wrong there!

I got the first part written and then thud. Nothing. It sat and sat and sat. And sat. And I banged my head against most available surfaces to no avail. Then I signed up for it for ficfinishing this summer and got a first draft done. My only excuse for waiting so long to publish it was that I wanted it to be the best I could make it and I used beta turnaround time to kind of avoid dealing with the fact that I wasn't really capable of making it any better. Mea culpa, Mags.

Oh, in case anyone was wondering, the verb tense change was on purpose. I can't say why, but having the main section in past and the rest in present was what the muse wanted and I agree. I'm not sure why I like it like that, but I do. It may not make much sense, but it feels right.

Very special thanks to betas melissima and 1trackmind for their assistance with this fic.


Emma DeMarais
Cynthia: CD Give you Up by shantalanadevil1trackmind on December 23rd, 2008 03:08 am (UTC)
Re: Confession
Yay! I really do love this!
Re: Confession - emmademarais on December 23rd, 2008 03:16 am (UTC) (Expand)
perhaps some frottage is in order: [spn] Sam/Deansororcula on December 22nd, 2008 10:17 pm (UTC)

I have not actually read it yet. But GASP. I KIND OF FORGOT ABOUT THIS.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 22nd, 2008 10:19 pm (UTC)


I feared people might forget about this and A Wink and a Bow.

Read - when you have time. It's still as yummy as you remember...
(no subject) - emmademarais on January 21st, 2009 01:07 am (UTC) (Expand)
it only burns when I breathe: n3: coop - smile by delgaserascaspikedluv on December 22nd, 2008 10:32 pm (UTC)
Such an intriguing idea, I couldn't resist giving this one a read. As you say, who could resist the hotness? Loved the idea of Billy going after the Winchester boys, and the Billy/Dean bits were hotter than a hot thing. Also loved Billy returning to the Roadhouse on Memorial Day.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 22nd, 2008 10:35 pm (UTC)
Oh, yeah! You and I are the ones in the fandom who've done the Numb3rs/SPN fusion fic, so it makes sense this one would catch your eye.

I may be tempted to spend some time with Billy as hunter in the future. I can see him fitting in well and more Billy fic is a happy thing for me in all forms, so why not?

Thanks for reading!
One Part Exuberance; Two Parts Obsession: dean profilepenguingal on December 22nd, 2008 10:39 pm (UTC)

/wipes sploded brain off the wall/ :D
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 22nd, 2008 10:43 pm (UTC)

I can't believe it's finally up!

/bows down to the power of your superior bunny/

Thanks for giving me this idea! I may have taken a long time to get this written but GAH was it a great experience in the end!

The FRECKLES! /gets dreamy look/
devon99 on December 22nd, 2008 10:51 pm (UTC)

That's it. Thats all your getting.

My brain has dribbled out of my ear



See? Look what you did.

I hope you are happy.

I iz dead from Dean/Billy combustion.

Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 22nd, 2008 10:54 pm (UTC)
Hee! All I wanted was a few good thuddings, a long guh and a partridge in a pear tree. ;-)

/is happy now/

Just me, warming up the winter with hot freckles!

Tori Lovelostandalone22 on December 23rd, 2008 07:01 am (UTC)
Great story!
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 23rd, 2008 07:06 am (UTC)
Thanks! It's making me want to do more crossovers. /grins/
Abbie Strehlow: Black devil carknotted_rose on December 24th, 2008 04:50 am (UTC)
This was great fun! Thanks for sharing.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 24th, 2008 06:41 pm (UTC)
Thanks, hon!

(Metallicar icon FTW!)
labseraphlabseraph on December 24th, 2008 03:39 pm (UTC)
Wow ... this is pretty sweet. Excellent repast for the holidays. I gotta say that as pretty Dean as Dean is, he don't exactly give off such vibes, but this one? You pretty much sold it.

Awesome job.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 24th, 2008 06:40 pm (UTC)
What a great comment! Thank you! I enjoyed this so much I may have to find some way to pair these two back together again: maybe making Billy a proper hunter or something. Happy Holidays!
tkdbbelt on December 28th, 2008 11:57 pm (UTC)
This was written so well that even someone who has never seen an episode of Supernatural was hooked. I definitely need to look into it now. Thanks.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 29th, 2008 12:02 am (UTC)
Thank you! I do rather like this one. And if you like the brothers on Numb3rs you have a good shot of liking the brothers on Supernatural.

I admit it takes more than a few episodes to get into the show, but everyone I know who has made it to the end of season 1 is hooked.
autumnwritingautumnwriting on January 1st, 2009 06:31 am (UTC)
How did I miss this?? This is love! =) Good job!
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on January 1st, 2009 06:44 am (UTC)
How did I miss this??

Ah, the danger of me posting my best fic of the year while everyone is out doing the holiday thing. Honestly, you'd think I'd learn, you know? But still, this month is riddled with good fic missed. /sigh/ Next year, no more procrastinating!

Thanks for coming back to read though!
Drewkiscico on January 7th, 2009 09:20 pm (UTC)
I adore Numb3rs and Supernatural, so Numb3rs/Supernatural is kind of a shoe-in, but this has to be the best N3/Spn crossover I've ever read. Most of them are far fetched and ignore certain canon facts, but this one is perfect. (Not to mention the wonderfulness that is Billy/Dean!)

Amazing fic!
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on January 21st, 2009 01:09 am (UTC)
Wow, thank you!

I did try to keep this fairly canon so as not to distract readers from the core pairing.

Billy/Dean was Mags' idea and OMG I went splodey when she mentioned it. I can't believe I never saw the possibility before.

I'm beginning to think there should be two comms: one where every character in every fandom has a chance to have sex with Dean and one where everyone has a chance to have sex with Faith.

Faith/Dean deserves its own comm else we might go three mile island from the massive overheating. LOL

Thanks for reading!
fyreflyfyrefly101 on February 16th, 2009 11:50 pm (UTC)
And really, I think you achieved full awesome-ness quota with this. SPN cross-over, and so, so well done.

And then Billy/Dean. Which is pretty much 'nuff said, for how excellent this is. I loved the mix of dominance and care and just...who am I kidding. I don't remember much apart from the mind-melting Billy/Dean. Love it!
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Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on October 22nd, 2009 07:29 pm (UTC)
Thanks! BTW, I was just working last night on a Mack/Dean The Unit/Supernatural AU where Dean's a member of the Unit (an Army Ranger). I figured the two of them were so good together as Billy/Dean why not give them another run, this time as Mack/Dean?

Oh, and your icon? Reminds me of the Dean/Mohinder Heroes/Supernatural PWP in a library I did ages ago. Hee!

(Why yes, Dean is one of my little black dresses in fandom!)
(Deleted comment)
(no subject) - emmademarais on October 22nd, 2009 07:46 pm (UTC) (Expand)
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(no subject) - emmademarais on October 22nd, 2009 11:13 pm (UTC) (Expand)
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(no subject) - emmademarais on October 25th, 2009 07:21 am (UTC) (Expand)
questioning in order to create: Comediantigriswolf on February 23rd, 2010 08:13 pm (UTC)
This is awesome!