A/N: I've never done a crossover fan-fiction, so I sincerely hope that it isn't too bad... :O Anyway, this should take place as a random episode happening somewhere in the first three seasons. Hopefully you enjoy it! It's just a thing I was sitting on and wrote as something to get me out of my writers block- it's probably not very good, but... XD

Enjoy~!

Disclaimer: I do not own "Supernatural" or "Hetalia"

It's Supernatural

They were definitely the most unusual hunters that the brothers had ever seen.

For one, the two had sought Sam and Dean out to work on their job together, something that hunters rarely did- it was a dog eat dog world out there, and hunters either went solitary or with family, but these two... definitely something unusual.

Dean was convinced that it was some sort of trick- he'd even planted holy water in their drinks to make sure that they weren't possessed. They weren't, and the angry little British guy gave him an earful about trust before the other pulled him away.

It was just odd.

For one, both Dean and Sam had a hard time figuring out how the two even managed to work together at all. They claimed to have been hunting partners for a long time, friends who got into the business at the same time for different reasons, and worked together well. However, as far as the brothers could tell, Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland did little else but bicker and tease each other relentlessly, arguing and picking fights and getting under one another's skin, failing to fall into any sort of rhythm together. Then again, Dean and Sam were similar in that sort of way, but they were brothers... what was to be expected?

And then it was each of the hunters individually. Arthur was from England, with messy blonde hair and a large temper. He was short and slender, his pale skin contrasting with very big, dark eyebrows that Dean had made the mistake of mentioning- the elder Winchester's face hurt whenever he thought about it. His eyes were a strange, toxic green that were as sharp as a hawk's, and never seemed to miss a thing. As far as the brothers could tell, other than hunting, he liked reading classic books, never ordered coffee (he drank lots of tea), couldn't handle alcohol, and though he denied it, knitted in his free time.

Alfred F. Jones was from America and was the polar opposite of Arthur. He was tall and lean, muscular but not overly so, with golden hair and bronzed skin. He laughed and smiled a lot, probably the most cheerful hunter the brothers had ever encountered, somehow having a bright and positive outlook despite the job he had. He seemed to have a thing for superheroes, as he was always wearing hoodies with graphic t-shirts under them of some Marvel or DC hero. Sam's jaw had dropped when he saw Alfred down five cheeseburgers at once without blinking an eye, and then even further as the American practically inhaled two milkshakes.

All in all, Sam and Dean absolutely couldn't figure out how.

"Easy," Alfred had told Sam when he had stopped by their motel room to give them a few folders of research, and let Dean mess around with his DS. "Artie and I are opposites. And opposites attract, right? It's like, we balance each other out."

Sam had considered this as Arthur yelled from across the room not for Alfred to call him 'Artie'.

"He's an idiot." Arthur had told Sam flatly later when asked the same thing. "Without me, he'd die painfully. I'd feel bad leaving him on his own."

Either way, Sam and Dean were still a bit in the dark about why the two had wanted their help.

In the bar upon introduction, Alfred and Arthur had exchanged a glance. Arthur set down his very small glass of whiskey and fixed the brothers with his strange green eyes. "It's like this," he said slowly. "Alfred and I... you could call us specialists. We specialize in certain things- some hunters dabble in everything, others focus on just demons, or just vampires, but we hunt something else."

"Shape shifters," Alfred had supplied helpfully, raising his beer like a toast. "We're the ones who're there when there's more than one Lady Gaga running around, except one's decided to kill her fan club."

"... That happens often?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"No, but the day shape shifters realize that taking on the forms of famous people will get them a hell of a lot farther, I'll be there," Alfred grinned. "An second, evil Mitt Romney probably isn't good."

"Would there be much of a difference between them?"

"I'll drink to that."

And so it was revealed that a shape shifter had gotten the bright idea to shift into vampires and demons and werewolves and other non-human things, and that Alfred and Arthur weren't quite sure how to deal with that, so they came to Dean and Sam. As Arthur had put it, dealing with shape shifters was one thing, but a vampire-demon combo probably wasn't so easy.

"I didn't really think we needed the help," Alfred had confessed to Dean when they were doing their research. "But Arthur... he's gotta be thorough otherwise he just isn't happy."

"I hear you," Dean had replied, shooting a glance at Sam, who was bent over books with Arthur. "Just not enough action, huh? Can't just jump in now and again..."

"Exactly!"

Arthur had shot the two suddenly best-friends a look as they laughed together about their hunting partners. "Well, they're certainly bonding..."

"Yeah, well," Sam had shrugged. "Dean doesn't make friends too easy. He has yet to get past the whole; 'friends don't shoot other friends on impulse' thing."

The four of them seemed to be getting along alright, and while the brothers still were confused about the two hunters, they shrugged it off as they got closer and closer to catching the shape shifter. It was hard to track, but they were definitely getting somewhere, which was more than how Alfred and Arthur were getting on their own. As the shape shifter changed forms, the brothers found that it also moved around as the thing it had changed into, so they randomly had to switch from hunting a vampire, to hunting a demon, and on and on- so Sam and Dean were right on track.

And when they finally closed in on the thing, the brothers were suddenly shown how Arthur and Alfred made sense.

The two moved in a sort of dance- one moved one way and exposed one side, and the other was automatically there to cover, each move countered by the other as they worked. Alfred carried a gun, while Arthur had his special machete, each working with the other in swift practiced moves, cornering the shape shifter a way that Sam and Dean never had done before. In fact, the brothers could only watch, feeling as though they would be getting in the way of something that Arthur and Alfred had clearly trained for.

In minutes, the shape shifter was dead.

Sort of.

Perhaps there had been some sort of mistake in their research, but after Arthur and Alfred had turned to Sam and Dean when Alfred's bullet had pierced it's chest, one with a satisfied look, the other beaming, the shape shifter got back up again. None of the four of them had seen it coming.

"And that, ladies, is how you kill a shapeshi-"

Alfred's eyes widened, and the smile was still on his face for a moment before his eyes rolled up and he fell to the floor of the warehouse, mouth open slightly in shock, lips red with blood, the turned-vampire shape shifter with it's fangs in his neck.

Arthur let out a cry of horror, and then Dean and Sam surged forward. The vampire hissed and tried to run, but Arthur was on it's heels, and he sliced it's hand clean off, rage evident on his face. Dean and Sam were then there, and they finished it off quickly.

"Alfred... Alfred..." Dean and Sam turned to see Arthur kneeling at Alfred's side, his eyes tearing up. "... please, come back..."

"Arthur..." Sam looked down at him, dropping down next to Alfred as well. "He'll be fine."

Alfred was, in fact, okay. They went back to their motel and patched his neck up, and he was back to his normal, cheerful self in a few hours. They knew he was really better when he downed the cheeseburgers Dean brought back for dinner. Alfred and Arthur both thanked Dean and Sam profusely, and promised to say their goodbyes in the morning before they parted ways. They said goodnight, and left for the room next to the brothers.

"I still can't figure them out," Dean said later that night when he and Sam were in bed, staring at the ceiling. "Why do they stick together?"

"They hunt well together..." Sam suggested, also staring at the ceiling. "Um... they obviously care about the other."

"Why?" Dean frowned. "It's not..." he suddenly sat up, and Sam looked at him in confusion. "Hey. You hear that?"

Sam listened, and came to hear muted voices from the room next to theirs. "Are they fighting?"

"Yeah..." Dean flopped back down. "This is dumb. I can't figure it out, damn."

They were both quiet for a while before there was a thud from the other room, followed by a few more.

… and then it became obvious why Arthur and Alfred stuck together.

"Mmn... oh, Alfred..."

"... ahh... hah, Arthur, you... nn..."

Thud.

"Nngh... ooh, no... not there..."

Thud.

"Liar... you like that..."

"Ah! Alfred...!"

"See...?"

Thud.

"Alfred, that feels... oh Al... mm..."

Thud.

"Nnahhh! Alfred, yes! There! O-Oh...!"

"Ngh, yeah... babe, come on..."

"Ahhh nnmm A-Al! Ooh, yes, harder...!"

Thud.

"Alfred! Alfred, ahh more... more!"

"... hah, you... mm... what if I slowed down...?"

"N-Nooo Alfred...! No, faster...! Ahh... mmn-f-faster...! Oh, please, Al!"

Thud.

Thud.

"YES! Ahh! Alfred! Right there! Nngh ahh mmn... so... so good!"

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

"Ah, fuck... Arthur..."

"Alfred...! Too... too much...! I'm... ahhh! Oh god..."

"Yeah... yeah, baby... me too...!"

THUD.

"A-Alfred...! YES!"

"Arthur...!"

…

And now the brother's understood, and they silently wondered to themselves if it had been worth it.

A/N: Curiosity killed the cat, boys. :3 And now you now.

Read and review, please!