1: Meeting the Psychic

"Dean, are we actually going to see this guy?" Sam asked, looking at the ad in the paper.

"Yes, Sam, we are actually going to see this guy. I wanna see if what he says is true."

"No. It's not. The guy's a fake."

"How the hell do you know?"

"Because, Dean, I can tell."

"Oh, right, because you're such a psychic yourself."

"Dean, I know what I'm talking about!"

"Shut up, Sammy, we're here."

Dean pulled the Impala into the crowded parking lot of a brick police station and climbed out with Sam right behind him. They walked through the doors and through the halls before they got to a black desk.

Dean flashed a charming smile at the beautiful blond girl behind the desk when she looked up. She jerked slightly, laughed nervously, and picked up the files she knocked down. She looked back up at Dean and giggled. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

Dean smiled wider, "Yes, you can, but right now, I need to know where your chief is?"

"Sure," she said, "Just give me one second to see if she's out of her meeting."

Dean stopped her on her way out, "Hey, I never got your name."

She smiled nervously, "Juliet. I'm Juliet."

"Juliet. I'm Dean."

She nodded, blushed, and walked out.

"Dean, cut it out," Sam demanded, "Just stop."

"Stop what?" he asked innocently.

"Stop flirting with her. You wanted to see this guy, so we're gonna see this guy, and then we're gonna leave. Nothing else, so stop."

"Hey, it's not my fault she thinks I'm incredibly sexy, okay?"

"Dean."

"Sam."

"Stop it."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because, dude. She's hot."

"Right. Right. What about Jo?"

"Jo's still hot, but how long has it been since we've heard from her?"

"Whatever."

Juliet walked back in, followed by a pregnant woman with light blond hair and two men; one with short brown hair and green eyes, the other a bald black man with brown eyes. The pregnant woman smiled at Sam and Dean and held out her hand.

"What can I do for you, boys?" she asked politely.

"Hi," Dean said, shaking her hand, "I'm Dean Ulrich and this is my brother, Sam. We were reading the newspaper this morning and saw an ad for a psychic. We just wanted to see if it was true."

She nodded and pointed beside her at the brown haired guy, "This is Shawn, he's the psychic. And that's Gus."

Shawn reached forward and shook Dean's and Sam's hands, "I'm the psychic, as you already know." He paused for a moment, "Cool amulet, man. Protection from what?"

Dean looked down at his amulet and narrowed his eyes slightly, "Anything."

"Anything? Like... spirits?"

Dean straightened up, trying to look intimidating, "What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing. You believe in spirits, that's all. You work with guns, huh?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Nothing. And I'm guessing your brother's the innocent one? And you're overly protective."

Sam laughed. Dean grinned, "Him? Innocent? Yeah, right."

"More innocent than you, anyway. I'm sensing, something happened when you were a kid and you've been worried about it happening again. Right?"

"How did you...?"

"I'm psychic. It's what I do. So, you wanted to see me work, right? Well, there you go. I'm amazing."

"I... I meant actually working a case."

"Wait. You want to see me work a case?"

"Is that gonna be a problem?" Dean asked, challenging him.

Shawn scoffed. "No. Not at all. Follow me."

Sam and Dean exchanged a skeptical look as everyone else left the room.

"So, I was wrong, Dean. You were right."

"Huh?"

"He's a real psychic."

"No, he's not."

"But, Dean, you're the older brother, you're always right, remember?"

"Shut up, Sammy."

"Are you ready to admit that your younger brother, college-boy is more observant than you are?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Sam glanced at Dean's jeans, "You have gunpowder on your left jeans leg, just near the cuffs. And that amulet design is ancient. Anyone would know it's used for spirit protection if they really focused. And if you were watching, when he mentioned that you work with guns, you made a face that just said that your father taught you to handle guns. Pay attention genius."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"I should."

"But you don't. I'm your brother."

"So?"

"So, you don't hate me."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean rolled his eyes and led Sam out of the room to find the self-proclaimed psychic and the rest of the group.

A/N I wrote this because I kept thinking what would happen if Sam (The real psychic) met Shawn from Psych (Shawn has a photographic memory, and is not an actual psychic.) So, tell me what you think. HAPPY EARLY THANKSGIVING!!!!!