Supernatural/Little Shop of Horrors crossover. This case looks pretty straightforward. Until you add in the talking plant.

Random assorted spoilers for all seasons of Supernatural and for Little Shop of Horrors.

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"Hey," Dean announced, closing the door to the motel room with a flourish and rattling into the room as he always did, as if the very room was overwhelmed by his presence.

Hell, Sam still wasn't even used to it again, yet. Not all the time, anyway. Sometimes having Dean there felt as strange as having him gone. He jumped slightly, almost imperceptibly to anyone who wasn't a Winchester.

"Hey."

"Got the coffee," Dean handed his brother a cup, "You find any new cases?"

"That one 'maybe' from Ellen fizzled out; she took care of it on her own. There have been a couple of 'Ripley's Believe It or Not'-type things going on; accidents that resulted in no injuries, but nothing our style. Just one thing I could find looked suspicious." Sam rooted around for a newspaper clipping:

Florist becomes overnight sensation.

"A 'Mister Seymour Krelborn, 22, a florist at Mushnik's Skid Row Florist-'"

"Nice name."

"-has become almost instantaneously popular because of a strange new plant he discovered which he refers to as an 'Audrey II'. Blah, blah, blah. 'The plant has already attracted attention from many gardening and horticultural societies, as well as garnering local interest.'"

"So you think that 'Mister Seymour Krelborn' played 'Let's Make a Deal' with a demon?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, it's too late to fix his situation, of course but a few times after they've been summoned they hung around trying to seduce other people. Maybe we can stop it before…" He broke off, flushing slightly as he realized the motive he was exposing. He would never forgive these things for allowing Dean to trade his own life for Sam's. For making his brother spend forty years in Hell. For not even letting Sam give himself in exchange for Dean. And he sure as hell wasn't going to let them give anyone else the same option or anything close to it.

Dean, being Dean, mercifully ignored this.

"Dude, you ever think maybe we've gotten too detached from normalcy or something?"

Sam looked in askance.

"I mean, this kind of stuff happens all the time. One hit wonders, fads, Ninja Cat…Sometimes there's no good reason for something to get popular but it happens anyway. Maybe this is just some freak thing. Dude works in a flower shop. He probably forgot to cut the stamens or something, left two plants near each other and-tada! Weird new plant." Underneath was an undercurrent of 'Just leave it alone, Sammy. Let people make their stupid decisions. I'm here, you're here, let it go. I'm trying to forget about it. Why can't you?' "This is probably some Podunk place where nothing happens and people got excited. Where did you say this was?"

Sam checked the cutting.

"New York City. Skid Row. I looked it up. It's a little borough, poor, mostly black and Jewish. It was probably one of those immigrant ghettos in the early nineteen hundreds. A lot of those little areas were."

"You think this guy rented a jackhammer and busted his way through the asphalt to get at a Crossroads he had no way of knowing would work in the first place?"

"It wouldn't be too hard to get to Upstate or even to the suburbs from where he is. If he wanted it bad enough …"

"Then you said it yourself, it's too late to save him. We've tried that before, remember? It barely worked that time. How are we even going to tell if the Crossroads Demon is still hanging around, anyway?"

"We've found smaller needles in bigger haystacks. We don't have any other leads. It's not far from here…" Sam winced. He hated it when he sounded the younger brother.

"At least we can do something besides waiting around for the angels to screw us over again. Fine. Faustian botanist it is."

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"I hate the city. At least there was a place to park. I never trust those parking garages.

So this is it, huh?" Dean asked as they approached the storefront.

Sam nodded.

"Damn, look at that crowd."

Mushnik's Skid Row Florist did seem to be extremely popular. The store was packed from wall to wall with customers.

"There's no way we'll be to get in there, let alone talk to anyone. We do need to actually find out if he really made a deal first, remember."

"Fine. We'll come back later. Right before closing time."

"Sam?" said Dean, looking around.

"Yeah?"

"Is it just me or is there something weird about this place?"

"Weird like how?"

"Like it's still1960."

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"Seymour, move; you've got orders to deliver."

Seymour jumped to attention, startled and still sluggish through his anemic daze.

"Sorry, Mr. Mushnik."

"Are you okay, Seymour?"

Audrey. She was always so sweet, caring, always at the right time. But she'd never be his.

"Just a little tired." He moved towards the arrangement, trying to remember the exact address he was taking it to. One thing he had noticed the last few days was that he was strangely more surefooted and had fewer accidents than usual. Either he was feeling some confidence from all this business with the plant (somewhat likely) or he just too damn tired from lack of blood; hence too tired to be nervous, hence too tired to be clumsy(more likely).

At any rate, his discomfort was worth both the plant and the increased efficiency. The publicity was nice but there was just something compelling about the plant all by herself. He had raised her from a little seedling after all. Plus she was kind of cute. He had always thought of his plants as living things, maybe even as having feelings but the fact that she moved made her seem almost like a pet. Less so when she bit down and gnawed but he couldn't fault her for that. It needed blood to live, after all. Everything lives off of something. He wasn't sure where this whole business was going but it felt somehow related to his deep-seated desire to leave Skid Row. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

"Seymour! Arrangement! Now!"