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Title: Trick
Author: ALEO[info]aleo_70
Genre: Gen
Characters: Don Eppes, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester with cameo by ADIC Wright.
Fandoms: Numb3rs/Supernatural - crossover
Rating: PG 13+
Warning: violence
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs, Supernatural and associated characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Anything you don't recognise comes from my imagination.
Spoilers - Numb3rs: nil; - Supernatural: nil.
Status: Part 1 of 4
Wordcount (this part): 2060
Total wordcount: ~ 8400

Summary: Another Halloween and another encounter with the Winchester brothers leaves Don under suspicion.

A/N: This follows on from my fic "Nightmare", making this the sixth in a crossover series which started with “Unexplained”.  This is not set in any particular season of either series.


Remembering to look to the left before pulling out of the Field Office Special Agent Don Eppes was not all that surprised to see the road virtually empty aside from Colby Granger’s fast disappearing taillights ahead of him to the right.  It was late, getting on to 11pm and it was Halloween which meant virtually everyone except for him and his team were at home or at a party.  Well not for much longer, he was soon to be home for a quiet party with his family and his team, just like almost every other Angelino.

It had been a long day culminating in the arrests of two men over a string of occult related homicides.  The body count was very high when compared to the ‘norm’ for serial killings, seven dead in just seven days.  The last was this morning, their raid too late to save the final victim, an up and coming college football star.  The other six victims were like the last one, athletes from track and field as well as basketball, baseball and now football.  All fit young men in their prime of health and strength. 

It was hard to believe they’d caught the true killers, two reed thin men in their mid-forties.  Don shook his head as he drove across the next intersection, how could two men like that take down and kill their physically superior victims?  The interrogations hadn’t cleared that point up but they were more than certain they had caught the killers with the overwhelming evidence against them.  Catching someone ‘red handed’ was no longer a figure of speech.

He almost missed the red light facing him but seeing it change at the last instant from amber he managed to pull the heavy SUV up with the front wheels just over the line.  As he waited and no traffic passed he wondered why he’d bothered with the hard stop.  Somewhat frustrated by the pointless wait for non-existent traffic he stared up at the red signal willing it to change to green so he could be on his way and home in time for barbeque rib-eye.

The passenger door opened and he quickly turned, his hand going to his holstered weapon.  By the time he identified that a man had climbed into his SUV the door was slamming closed and then he froze in place as the face turned.  It was Dean Winchester.

His heart rate spiked as he flashed back to the last time he’d encountered the fugitive.  It didn’t matter that it had been a nightmare, emotionally his last encounter was when Dean Winchester had been about to execute him as he knelt in the mud in front of an open grave.  His reaction to seeing the man again was a rush of fear despite the fact they’d actually parted ways last time as something close to allies.  The moments before that, when he’d been forced to protect a murderer from Dean’s wrath, standing between Dean’s gun and the man dubbed ‘The Hunter’, he had long since forgiven.  Pulling himself together quickly he reminded himself the graveyard was a nightmare, nothing more.  Whilst it couldn’t be said he had nothing to fear from the man he should not be in any immediate danger.  He loosened his grip on his gun and opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s gone green,” Dean said first.

Completely nonplussed Don stared at him.  Whilst he had no idea what he was expecting the man to say, a comment about a colour made absolutely no sense.

“The light, it’s green,” Dean clarified.  He jerked his head at the signal overhanging the middle of the road.  “That usually means you can go.”

Don was halfway across the intersection before he realised what he was doing.  About to slam on the brakes his automatic check of his mirror had him continuing on.  The set of headlights behind him were all too familiar, it was the Impala that the brothers favoured.  It meant that he had both brothers to contend with.  Not sure what the situation was he continued on.

“What are you doing here?”  He finally demanded.

“On a hunt,” the other man said as if that explained everything.  “We need your help.”

“Again?” Don asked as he felt the situation going south rapidly.  Something he was finding to be normal where Dean Winchester was concerned.  “What do you want from me this time?  Your brother’s safe.”

Dean bobbed his head so he could peer into the wing mirror at the following vehicle.  “Yes he is, and we still owe you for that.”

Once again Don was reminded of the nightmare and he had to push the recollection aside.  He cast the man a sideways look, noting this time that Dean was wearing a suit rather than his more normal jeans.  Searching for something to say he said the first thing that popped into his head, “Actually, I almost could have done with your help this last week.”

Whilst he’d had no such intention the thought had crossed his mind more than once.  The case was something right up their alley, so much so he had been looking over his shoulder all week expecting the Winchesters could well make an appearance.

“That’s why we’re here,” Dean confirmed.

“Then you don’t need my help, we caught them today.  It’s over.”

“No, we got here just in time.  It does take a while to drive clear across the country, you know,” Dean pointed out.

“Just in time? What do you mean?”

“Pull over so we can talk,” Dean suggested.

Not too sure he liked that idea, Don didn’t immediately comply.  Stopping meant that Sam Winchester could join the conversation and the odds were bad enough with just the older brother with him.  Then again, the older brother was already with him and he was already sunk if that was what they wanted.  Signalling he pulled to the right and stopped midway down the next block with the Impala sliding to a stop behind him.  Sure enough a few seconds later the back door opened and a bag was tossed in before Sam Winchester climbed into the back seat.

“Hello, Agent Eppes,” Sam said politely.

“Sam,” Don managed in return.  He’d had less to do with the younger man than the older brother.  He was not easily going to forget however that it was Sam who had carved his arm open after he’d been bitten by what they claimed had been a werewolf.  The significance of the date suddenly struck him, that night had also been Halloween.  Next year he was taking leave.

“So is he going to help us?”

Dean shifted so he could see his brother easily. “I haven’t told him what we want yet.”

“Dean, we don’t have time!”

“I know, I know,” Dean answered.

“Don’t have time for what?”

“All Hallows Eve is tonight,” the other said as if that explained everything.

“Halloween.  I know that,” Don responded.  A check of the clock in his dash showed it was 11:08pm.  “It’s almost gone in fact.”

“No, the important time is midnight and that’s fifty-two minutes away.  Dean we have to move it,” Sam insisted.

Having the brothers on their way sounded good to him, “Then you’d best be going.”

“All right, so here’s the deal,” Dean started, drawing the agent’s attention back to him.  “We need you to get us into the Field Office.”


Dean continued speaking, ignoring the shocked outburst.  “You took something into evidence from the scene today.  We have to get it and gank what’s in it before it’s too late.”

“You can’t be serious,” Don said incredulously.  He glanced back and forth between the two men only to see that they were in fact very serious.  “I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.  We can pass as agents, you know that.  We just need the in and we need it quickly, you can get us that.”

It certainly explained why they were both wearing suits, they were preparing to impersonate federal agents again.

“No way,” Don said firmly.  “It might be late but there are plenty of agents in there, any one of them could recognise you.”

“How many people are in the building?”  Sam asked.

He wasn’t going to give them that sort of information.  “Enough.  More than enough.”

“If we don’t get in there and deal what’s in the box then they will all be dead by morning,” Sam said ominously.

“How will they be dead?  What box?”

“Made of dark stone, about this by this and heavy,” Dean explained, shaping the dimensions with his hands. 

“I remember it,” Don snapped.  He moved on to the more important point, “How will they all be dead?”

“The spell activates at midnight.  You don’t want it to get out; if it does it will kill everyone unless it is stopped.  The more it kills the harder it will be to stop.”

He didn’t understand most of Dean’s explanation but needed more information so he could phone in a warning.  He’d seen and signed off on the exhibit list which included the stone box and there had been nothing threatening.  Despite that there was only one thing that made any sort of sense based on what the Winchesters were telling him, “Is it some sort of gas, or a bomb?”

“No, it -“

“Yes,” Sam broke in, clearly impatient.  “It’s a bomb set to go off at midnight.  Let’s go.”

“Sammy,” Dean started to argue.

“Dean, we don’t have the time.  He wants to think it’s a bomb then it’s a bomb,” Sam insisted.

“I’m calling it in,” Don stated.  He got the phone off his belt but that was as far as he got before it was snatched out of his hand in an echo of a move Dean had pulled on him before.

“Fine, it’s a bomb,” Dean said in frustration.  “We can ‘defuse’ it if we get to it in time, no-one else can.”

“I’m not taking you in there, I’m getting everyone out.”

“You’re taking us in.  I was going to say we’d make the same deal as last time,” Dean started.  “But I guess we’ll just skip straight to that part instead.”

“What deal?” Don started to say but it was already all too clear.  When they’d last met Dean had asked for his help to save Sam, offering to make it look as though he were under duress if they were caught.  He hadn’t even seen Dean move but he could see the engraved Colt that had appeared in Dean’s hand readily enough.  Reacting to movement he turned slightly to see Sam’s Taurus likewise aimed in his direction.

He let out a deep sigh and sat back in his seat, “You weren’t really going to give me a choice, were you?”

“Well, I did try,” Dean countered with a slight tilt of his head suggesting he found the accusation a touch amusing.

“This close to midnight we don’t have the time,” Sam said, simultaneously.  In contrast to his brother he was all seriousness.

“You could have made the time, you could have called earlier rather than waiting for me to leave,” Don argued turning from one to the other.

“Like we’d have known you were there,” Dean scoffed.

“You didn’t?” Don said in surprise.  From the last encounter he’d got the impression that the Winchesters kept tabs on him whenever they were in town.

“Like I said, we just got here,” Dean said.  “We spotted you driving out just as we were figuring on how to get in.”

“Dean,” Sam called.

Understanding that Sam was impatient due to their short time frame Don let it go.  “Fine. Whatever.  So, how are we going to do this?”

“I’m sure you can figure that out.  First things first,” Dean said.  He held out his spare hand, “Give it.”

Another sigh escaped him as he handed over his Glock then, following the new motion of Dean’s hand, the spare magazine from the holder on his belt.  The weapon was handed back to Sam while Dean tossed the spare magazine into the foot well. 

 “Let’s go,” Dean ordered flicking his gun.

Checking once again for non-existent traffic Don pulled out and completed a U-turn to return to the Field Office.  Behind him he could hear Sam unloading the Glock and then emptying the magazine. 


Next chapter - here

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