**Not sure how I came up with this but I did. Psych/Supernatural. Spoilers for S4 of Supernatural, mainly inspired after watching ep 4x18. Just a bit of cracked fun that was written at 4am.

Dean and Sam show up in town for a hunt and they're under FBI aliases when they run into fake-psychic Shawn Spencer and his ever knowledgeable best friend and pharmaceutical salesman, Gus.

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Dean spotted Gus and sighed, aggravated. He marched up to the man.

Gus was standing at a tall table outside a cafe. He munched on some pretzels.

"Where is he?"

"I'm not sure as to who you are referring." He said casually. "You'll have to be a little more specific." He pointed to his coffee. "Have you tried the mocha latte with caramel? This place has the best." He took a sip and let out a refreshed 'ahhhh'.

"Shawn. Where is he?"

"Oh, him." Gus pointed over his shoulder. "He's the jackass dancing on top of your car."

"What?!" He hurried to the parking lot and found Shawn was indeed, standing on top of the Impala, dancing. He was doing something like a skip, his head up in the air and snapping his fingers. He'd stop, shift his hips from left to right then back again and start the routine over again. Dean ran up to him. "If you don't get off my car in two seconds I'll blow your head off!"

Shawn stopped and looked around. "What, do you want to wear ugly orange pajamas...wait, I believe they're called 'prison gaaarrrb'...? Uttering death threats in public? Please."

"Get off my car!"

Shawn shrugged, stepped onto the hood. "It really has the best view of the women's gym up there."

"Hey!" Dean motioned to the hood of his baby. He blinked, "wait, it does, where?" He looked around, wondering where the women's gym was.

Shawn hopped off, stumbled, fell to the ground. He jumped up onto his feet, as if bouncing and glanced around. "Where's your little buddy? And by little I mean that tall guy with shampoo-commercial hair."

Dean was inspecting his car. "There's a scratch on it!"

Shawn pointed at him. "And I will give it kisses..." He leaned over and kissed the car. "There there, uncle Shawnie makes it all better."

Dean shut his eyes and clenched his jaw, drawing in a deep breath. "Again, I'm praying...God...please help me not to murder this moron." He opened his eyes and glared at Shawn. "You and your buddy there keep interfering with our case."

Shawn held out his hands up on either side. "What? We would never interfere with an FBI case." He pointed at him. "Except you're not FBI. You're some sort of brooding, macho, rock wannabe investigator." He flopped his arm around wildly then threw himself against the car, one leg on the hood, then slid off it...having a 'vision' of who Dean really was. He exclaimed in a bad Spanish accent, making his tongue roll, "Parrrranormal investigatorrrr!"

"Do you know, how much of a douche you look like right now?"

He was laying on his back, looking up at Dean. "Unfortunately I can't see right now. Those pearly white teeth of your are blinding me you handsome devil you."

The hunter let out a breath again. "Stay out of our way."

Shawn got to his feet. "Nah can't do that. I was hired to find the nasty wittle wabbit - stop it so I am. Maybe they'll give me a carrot."

"You morons are going to get yourself killed."

"Ouch. You used 'moron' twice in one conversation. I don't think I like you anymore." Shawn indignantly started over to where Gus was.

Dean spotted Sam buying a coffee at the counter next to where Gus was sitting. He went over, hoping his brother would help him. Stop him if he pulled out his gun or something.

Juliet rounded the corner of the cafe and walked up to Gus.

"Jules! My best buddy!"

"Hey."

Shawn glanced non-chalantly at Gus. "Sorry Gus but you don't have perfectly sculpted-"

"Shawn." She warned.

"Ears like Jules does."

"Ears?"

Jules smiled and held up a bag, showing Gus. "Guess what I have?"

"Oh, wait..." He said enthusiastically, thinking.

"Hey, you never want to guess when I do that." Shawn told him.

"Because that one time you had me guess for over an hour and it turned out to be nothing in the first place?"

Shawn looked off nostalgically, smiling. "Yeah...good times."

"Lazarus Rising."

Gus' eyes widened. "Not fudging way! That's like impossible to get, how did you get it?"

She practically squealed. "We busted this art thief who was using it to prop up his table. Everything was taken into evidence including this brand new, recently released copy!"

"But how did you get it? We both know there are procedures with the items taken in by cops."

"The police auction was yesterday."

"Oooh did you buy those leopard printed leg warmers?" Shawn asked with a straight face.

She ignored him and told Gus. "I finished reading all the books for a third time and I was compelled to buy boxes of salt."

Gus laughed heartily. "To ward off ghosts?" He spotted his pretzels and held one up. "I wonder if we could string together a bunch of pretzels and use it as a portable lasso-like device that we could encircle us if any ghost tried to attack."

Jules looked off in the distance dreamily. "Well if Dean's body looks anything like Agent Lars Ewing's then he could make even that look hot."

Sam choked into his coffee.

Dean turned and looked at the trio, shocked. "Oh hell no."

"What are you two babbling about?" Shawn asked Gus.

"Only the coolest and most realistic demon hunter series of all time."

"Series of what? How-to-guides to make your friend sound like a dork?"

"Books Shawn. Books. Supernatural. It's widely becoming popular in the underground and I bet you fifty bucks it'll be at comi-con this year."

"Oh...Supernatural...cause' me being a psychic isn't good enough for you?" He went on sounding like a shrill old lady, faking offense.

Jules and Gus couldn't help but laugh.

Sam told his brother, while wiping the coffee off his tie. "I don't remember 'Lazarus Rising' as the title of any book that Chuck had written."

Dean sighed. "Looks like he got another one published."

"What's it about then? Should we find a copy? Take theirs?"

"That would be stealing." A voice came from behind.

They turned and saw the angel Castiel there. "Uh...no we won't take their copy." Sam stated.

"That book is another of Chuck's isn't it?"

"Yes."

"And what's it about?"

"When you first get back from Hell...when I introduced myself."

"Oh...yeah I don't want to read about that." He sighed and motioned to the trio at the table. Gus threw a pretzel at Shawn like a frisbee. Shawn caught it in his mouth and threw up his arms. "Score!" He shouted, making the pretzel fly from his mouth onto the table.

"Ew!" Jules laughed.

"Can I at least lock them all in a freezer until the hunt's over?"

"Why?"

"They're in the way."

"No...they're doing what they are supposed to be doing."

"Getting in the way?"

"Fulfilling their destiny."

"Which is what, annoying us to death?"

"In their way they are soilders...in a different medium as you but they do help stop evil." He told Dean. "You must get along with them."

"Why?"

"They're your army."

"My what?"

"Army...to fight Lucifer."

Dean sighed and glanced at the trio.

Shawn began doing a Donald Duck impression, causing Jules and Gus to burst out laughing again.

Dean gave a nod. "We're all gonna die."

The End