AN: I have other things to do (and other things to write) but wanted to write this quick little one-shot inspired by this post by fandomlife-universe on tumblr:
Maybe the FBI knows that Sam and Dean are impersonating them all over country, but they are just letting them run around cleaning up all these unsolvable murders and weird shit because it's bringing the FBI a good name.
"Hey it looks like those two psychopaths caught the blood-sucking murderer. Let's ask for a raise and grab a drink to celebrate."
Agent Aleman read over the transcription of the phone call once more. It was only his first week here in D.C., so maybe they got these kinds of tips all the time and it was bogus. Maybe someone was pulling his leg, trying to haze the new guy. But if he didn't report it, wouldn't he be guilty of being negligent?
It just sounded so bizarre. The psychopathic serial killers, once at the top of the FBI's most wanted list, spotted years after their (second) deaths, impersonating FBI agents? What the hell kind of a tip was that?
Aleman left his office and walked down the hall to the conference room where his superiors, Agents Noonan and Tiller, were often found discussing cases or having a coffee.
He walked in, glad he clearly was not disturbing anything very important. Noonan and Tiller were apparently playing a very elaborate version of "would you rather," with brackets like a tournament written on a large whiteboard.
"Aleman!" said Agent Noonan. "Come on, you can help me on this one, I'm stuck. Would you rather be slowly eaten over a number of days by a snake, or by a penguin? See, I don't like snakes, but maybe it would poison me and I wouldn't notice or mind the whole slow death thing as much? While the penguin would be adorable, but still terrible. And then I'd be scared of penguins, and that's unfortunate."
"Well ma'am," said Agent Aleman, "Uh, I guess it wouldn't matter that you'd be afraid of penguins then, since you'd be dying anyways."
"Fair point!" said Noonan. "Tiller! Cross off snake. Penguin is going to the next round!"
"Sir, ma'am, do you mind taking a look at a strange tip I got?" asked Aleman. "See, it's about these serial killers, and they were high priority, most wanted, but they're supposed to be dead… You haven't heard anything about the Winchesters recently have you?"
"Oh, all the time," said Agent Tiller, picking up his cup of coffee off one of the conference tables. "Where did they pop up this time?"
Aleman was a bit shaken and surprised to hear that. "Uh, Grand Rapids, Michigan. Sir, if there's a tip on serial killers at large, don't you think that we should, well uh, do something about it?"
"Nah," said Tiller.
"What my partner means to say," said Agent Noonan, "Is that the Winchesters are a bit of a mystery to the department, but after this many years, we've kept our distance."
"They're always getting mixed up in all sorts of crazy shit," said Tiller. "The really weird cases, you know? Hearts ripped out, people burned alive, blood drained from victims. That sort of thing."
"Right," said Noonan. "And so far, they've had a lot better luck than any of our own agents have in handling and resolving those cases. Hell, I'm sure a lot of them we don't even hear about. But every once in a while they pop back up. What were they investigating this time anyways?"
Aleman looked back at his notes. "Well, apparently a kid went into a coma while in the family's new house, and the mom went into a coma shortly after. That's what set our tipster out to check up on these guys; why would the FBI be investigating comas?"
"And any word yet on if they woke up?" asked Noonan.
"Actually," said Aleman, "they were said to have made a miraculous recovery."
"Well," said Tiller. "Not exactly as exciting as celebrating the capture of a murderer, but hey, we'll take it. Good work, agents. Noonan, sounds like the FBI is doing some great work this week. What do you say we head out of here early to grab a drink and celebrate the fantastic job we're doing?"
"I'd say that sounds like a marvelous plan!" said Noonan. "Aleman, if you could tidy up the conference room and file that report first, we'll be over at Lockett's on 16th Street. Come grab a beer with us."
Agents Tiller and Noonan then left the conference room in a particularly good mood to go collect their things for the day, leaving poor Agent Aleman wondering what exactly had just happened.
He filed the report, discovering that it joined many other documents and files on the Winchesters, and tried not to think about it too hard.