AN: So I kinda got this amazing idea. And a bazillion other ideas running around in my head rn, but I wanna try this first. First crossover, let me know if it sucks. Please. I have no idea where exactly this would fit into seasons wise, but… oh well. I sincerely hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the Supernatural or NCIS characters, only my own.

þ°•°þ

Gibbs' POV

Gibbs strode off the elevator, walking towards his desk. He could hear faint voices coming from the squad room.

"Tony! What are you doing behind my desk," Ziva quietly shouted at DiNozzo.

"Oh, well um, your computer beeped, so I was just checking it."

Tony stood in front of her desk. Gibbs walked up behind him, slapping him on the back of the head.

DiNozzo grunted, rubbing the back of his head, "Sorry, Boss."

"Grab your gear," Gibbs tossed the van's keys to Ziva while holstering his gun.

The team hurriedly grabbed their go-bags, fearing to be left behind. They all walked to the elevator together, Gibbs getting on first.

When they got to the crime scene, a large house in the middle of a suburb, the picture layed out before them was nasty. Inside the house, a young petty officer's body lay limp just inside the door, her head turned to the side. Her throat was slit and she had claw marks down both of her arms. Gibbs showed his NCIS ID to the local police officer that was posted outside the door. He motioned for the team to go inside. They all got to work right away, working like a well oiled machine should. McGee started tagging evidence, DiNozzo took pictures, and Ziva talked to one of the witnesses.

Ducky, their medical examiner, set his bag down, kneeling beside the victim.

"Hello there, young petty officer. Oh my, who did this to you?" he turned her head, revealing the long gash that ran across her throat.

"Duck, do you have a TOD?" Gibbs asked, trying to keep the medical examiner on target.

Palmer answered for him, "Based on body temperature, I'd say around two, three in the morning."

Gibbs shot him a glance, "Do you know what killed her."

"You know I don't like to speculate Gibbs, but if I had to, I'd say that it was the cut to the throat. These gashes, along her arms, would have bled tremendously, but not enough to kill her. I won't know more until we get her back to NCIS."

"Alright, thank Ducky."

"BOSS! There's something you should see up here!" Tony bellowed from the top of the stairs.

Gibbs effortlessly climbed the stairs, even in his old age he was well suited for the job. Tony led him to the master bedroom. The place was trashed.

"First off, it looks as if this was a robbery. Everything somewhat valuable is gone, and I mean everything." the senior field agent shuddered, "And then there's this."

He pointed to the side of the bed. Gibbs had to step to the other side in order to see what DiNozzo was pointing at.

Through all his life, he had never seen anything like this. He couldn't help himself, he gagged a little.

"What the hell is that?"

Tony just shrugged, "You got me, I don't have the slightest clue."

Next to the bed there was a pile of… who knows what. It looked slimy, but had different shades to it. Blood and something that looked like cloth was piled into the gooey, skin colored heap.

Gibbs patted DiNozzo on the back, "Bag and tag it DiNozzo."

Sighing, Tony followed Gibbs back downstairs and outside. Tony went to the van in search of evidence bags, while Gibbs walked towards Ziva.

Ziva finished writing in her notepad, dismissing the witness.

"What did the neighbor have to say?" Gibbs asked when he came close enough for Ziva to hear him.

"Well, they were coming home from a party around 2100 hours when they ran into the petty officer. Told me her name was, Charlotte Simmons. She was just coming home, they didn't know from where. And here's the weird part, he said that he could've sworn that he saw the petty officer pull into the driveway again around 0200 hours, but he doesn't remember her ever leaving. The next thing he knows he hears a scream coming from the petty officers house and he calls the police. He watched as the first vehicle drove away, but never got the license plate numbers. That's all I got out of him."

"How did he see all that?" Gibbs questioned.

Ziva pointed to a window on the house directly across from the victims.

"He said that he likes looking out the windows often and that the headlights from cars shine directly into his house. Apparently, no one else was home in the houses surrounding the petty officer's. They all said they were at the neighborhood "get together", down at the end of the block."

"Alright, finish with the rest of the interviews and head to the van."

"Yes, Boss," Ziva walked over to a young woman, flipping to a new page in her notepad.

Ducky and Palmer had already left with the body. Tony was still upstairs collecting the final remains of the odd substance. McGee was in the back of the van, packing their things away.

"Okay, Boss! It's all here," Tony held the two large evidence bags as far away from him as he could.

"And, I am finished with the last of the interviews," Ziva added, walking up next to Tony.

"Load up," Gibbs commanded, hoisting himself into the driver's seat of the NCIS van.

þ°•°þ

Dean's POV

He pulled the Impala into a parking space located in the back of the motel. They had just gotten into Washington D.C. and wanted someplace to crash for the night as it was already 9 PM.

Sam got out first, going to their room and unlocking the door. Dean grabbed their duffels out of the trunk and walked to where Sam was waiting for him with the door wide open. As Dean looked inside, he saw Castiel. Dropping the bags near the two beds, he came up to the angel. His hand snaked around Cas' waist as he brought their bodies together. Dean crashed his hungry lips against his angels.

"Don't be gone so long next time," Dean whispered in Cas' ear after they grudgingly pulled apart.

"I will try not to be," Cas whispered back.

Dean knew that Cas had important matters in Heaven, but still he wished that Cas could be by his side at all times. "I guess I should have got two rooms," Sam grumbled.

"Ah, shut it Sammy."

"Whatever, I'm taking a shower," Sam waved them off, grabbing his duffel and going into the bathroom, swiftly closing the door after him.

Kicking his shoes off, Dean took Cas' hand and together they climbed into the bed. He wrapped both arms around the angel, pulling his closer. Cas sat on top of him, his head resting on the headboard next to Dean.

"Are you staying the night?" Dean asked.

"Yes."

"Good," Dean sat up straighter, planting a soft kiss on Cas' forehead, "We could use your help on this case."

"I'll do my best."

"Thank you," Dean kissed Cas again, this time on the lips, "I love you."

"I love you too."

Before Sam even got out of the shower, the two were fast asleep, or at least Dean was, Cas just had his eyes closed.

Once out of the shower, Sam turned off the lights, settling on his own bed with the laptop. He knew that they were dealing with a shapeshifter and there had been multiple cases where it seemed that the shifter was responsible. Still, Sam looked up the cases, trying to find some sort of connection.

Soon, he too succumbed to sleep's warm embrace, with the laptop beside him.

Gibbs' POV

"Focus, DiNozzo!," he head slapped him, "Whatcha got."

Ziva plucked the clicker from Tony's hand. Turning to the monitor, she continued, "We confirmed that the victim is indeed petty officer Charlotte Simmons. 26 years old, she enlisted in the Navy when she was 20. Her record is spotless and her commanding officer had nothing bad to say about her. He couldn't think of anyone who was enemies with her."

"I did a little digging," McGee took the clicker from her, "Turns out that when her grandparents died, they left her a lot money. 75 thousand dollars, to be exact. She had put it into her bank account. Yesterday, around 1500 hours, her account was drained. I called the bank and asked them who took the money out. They said that it was Simmons. She took her money in cash and left."

Gibbs pondered this a moment, completely confused, "What about phone calls?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, no strange numbers or anything," Tony supplied.

Gibbs' flip phone rang.

"Hey, Abbs," he answered.

"Gibbs! You've got to see this!"

"Alright, I'm on my way down," he hung up and turned to DiNozzo, "I want video footage from that bank."

"On it, Boss."

After stopping to grab a Caf-Pow he took the elevator down to Abby's lab. He could hear her blaring music from the hallway.

"ABBY!" he shouted, "Turn it down!"

She obliged, "Sorry Gibbs. Anyway, you'll never believe what I found!" she turned to her computer.

"So I took a sample of the odd substance Tony found and ran a DNA test on it," she looked at Gibbs, "It is a positive match to Simmons DNA."

Gibbs' puzzlement grew. What the hell!?

"But Simmons is in autopsy."

"I know! That's the crazy part!"

"Alright, I need to see Ducky," he took a step towards the door.

"Wait! There's more," she grabbed his arm and pulled him back, "I tried to identify the knife that was used to kill the petty officer. I tested every one I could get my hands on. None of them matched, so I tried a different approach," she showed Gibbs a model on her computer, "The wound is not a perfect cut like a knife would make. It had to be some sort if claw that slit her throat."

"This case keeps getting more and more weird," he quickly pecked Abby on the cheek and handed her the Caf-Pow, "Thanks, Abbs."

He got back in the elevator and rode to autopsy. The doors chimed open as he entered the cold autopsy room.

"Jethro!"

"Hey, Duck. Find anything?"

"I have troubling news," the medical examiner lifted up the victim's left arm, "See these gashes on her arm? They were not made by a human. These are claw marks, but they are much too wide to be a dog's."

"What could have did that?"

"Honestly, I haven't got the slightest idea."

"Well, thanks Ducky," he turned on his heel and strode back to the elevator.

"Boss! I've got… something," DiNozzo said when Gibbs came out of the elevator.

"What is it now?"

"I've found other cases with the same M.O. The victims money is drained from their bank accounts and there's always a pile of goo."

He didn't mention that the goo had the victims DNA in it, "How many?"

"About 4 so far, all in the D.C. area."

"Make that 5. Metro just called in another," McGee said, hanging up the phone.

"DiNozzo, McGee, grab your gear. Ziva, sift through the other cases, see if there's anything there that can help us identify the killer."

Dean's POV

He woke up to a slamming door. Cas was curled up next to him, his eyes open and his fingers running through Dean's hair. Light was streaming through an open window.

"Sorry, guys but we got to go. I think I know where the shapeshifter is going next," Sam said motioning to the door.

"Alright, hang on," he kissed Cas good morning and put his boots on, "Let's go, bitch."

"Jerk," Sam tossed the Impala's keys to him.

Cas stood, straightening his rumpled trench coat with his hands.

Once they got into the Impala, Dean asked where they were going.

"Oh, duh. I don't have an address, but I know how to get there, I'll direct you," Sam answered.

And that he did. He directed Dean into a fancy neighbourhood.

"It's that house right there," Sam pointed to a large grey house with too many windows, "This shifter is after money, he targets wealthy civilians, most who have inherited it. This guy fits the profile and he is the close to where I think the shifter lives."

"Okay, good enough for me. Cas? You cool with this?" Dean asked, looking back at the angel sitting in the backseat.

"Yes, I can tell that the shifter is close."

"Good, we got the right place at least." Dean sighed.

He loaded his M1911A1 with silver bullets, shoving it in his waistband. He watched the house and road, waiting for the shifter to come.

The human or shifter came home.

"That is the human," Cas said, reading their minds.

"Thanks," Sam said.

A scream erupted from somewhere in the house.

"Damn! The fucking shifter is already in there!" Dean sprang out of the car, running for the front door.

Sam and Cas jumped out after him. Cas reached the front door just as Dean picked the lock and went inside. Sam went around to the back.

Cas cleared the first floor. Dean quickly scaled the stairs, gun raised and sweeping back and forth. Cas followed behind him but went the opposite direction to clear the other rooms. Dean barged into the master bedroom.

Unfortunately, he was too late. The human was already dead on the floor. The shifter, who looked exactly like the dead civilian, was filling a bag with expensive gold jewelry. Looking up, the shapeshifter growled and grew long werewolf claws.

"Well, shit," Dean exclaimed.

He raised his gun, preparing to take a shot. He squeezed the trigger, but the shapeshifter was quicker, it dodged to the side and charged. It knocked Dean to the ground, one of the claws scraped his left arm, creating a short but deep gash.

Before the shifter could do anymore damage, Sam fired off two shots. Both barely missed, but it got the shifter's attention. It climbed off Dean and advanced on Sam.

The sirens outside caught everyone's attention. Damn it! One of the neighbors must have heard the shots.

The shifter, not wanting to get caught, effortlessly shed his skin and bolted for the door. Dean picked himself up, his right arm clutching his left. Together, the brothers ran down the stairs and out the door. Thankfully, the sirens were further away than they expected. Cas came running out of the house, for the Impala.

Dean started the engine as Cas jumped in the backseat and slammed the door shut. He stomped on the gas, swinging the Impala around and speeding away from the crime scene.

They had just nearly avoided the cops. Cas proceeded to heal Dean's arm, apologizing about not coming to his rescue.

"We had better lay low. Who knows who saw us," Dean said.

"Yeah, that's the last thing we need. The feds think we're dead," Sam commented.