Summary: Dean Winchester calls Shawn for a favor. Turns out Shawn can do more than expected...
Author's Note: After writing "Shawn Spencer: The Ultimate Reference," I knew I was going to have to expand on the one call I mentioned Dean making to Shawn about a hunt in the Pentagon. Though I haven't written my Psych/SG-1 crossover "The Unexpected" I wanted to post the story explaining Dean's call to Shawn, and Shawn's subsequent call to Davis (which is noted in "Shawn Spencer: The Ultimate Reference." So here it is.
Oh, also note: this comes chronologically before "Reid Met The President But It Was Shawn's Fault!" It is pre-season Psych, pre-season Supernatural, and early season seven-ish Stargate SG-1.
Disclaimer: I do not own rights to Psych, Supernatural, or Stargate SG-1 in any way, shape, or form. I do own rights to MSIA Air Duct tours of Cheyenne Mountain, and the plan to play Capture The Flag with zat guns in said air ducts of said military base.
Part of the Reference and Unexpected 'verses! (See my page for details.)
"You're sure there's a hunt in there?" Dean asked, in no way trying to talk back. That had been Sam's job. And now that Sam was off at Stanford, Dean certainly wasn't going to pick up where he left off.
But the question did have to be asked. This was no ordinary hunt his father was suggesting they take. It would be a lot more dangerous for them if they tried to do this.
"How did you even hear about it?" Dean asked, trying to adjust his query a little bit so as not to annoy his dad.
John pulled the newspaper on the table out from under the rifle that was still waiting to be cleaned. "Since it's nearby, I guess the attacks were newsworthy. Though I'm a bit surprised they were allowed to print this."
Dean knew which article he was referring to. He had seen it last night while he was cleaning up after dinner. But he hadn't quite put two and two together like his father apparently had.
"I know it's a little more dangerous than usual," John admitted. "But a hunt is a hunt, and those people need us."
"How are we supposed to even get in?" Dean asked, trying and failing to hide his frustration. "This is so beyond our pay grade."
"A hunt is a hunt." John's tone was firm and final. "And we just need to get some new IDs. Give a call to Shawn and see if he has anyone in the area."
Dean wanted to argue, but he didn't. This hunt would be hard enough—arguing with his father wasn't going to make it any easier. So he pulled out his phone and dialed the all-familiar number for one of his few real friends.
As it rang, he stood and began making himself breakfast. With their current motel so far from seemingly any civilization, they didn't have time to run out for breakfast. They were stuck with cereal and burnt toast. But Dean didn't care, because he knew they would be moving on soon. Especially if Shawn had someone to help them get ready for this next hunt.
Shawn was eating breakfast when he got the call. He picked up his phone and barely glanced at the number before answering.
"Hey Dean, what's going on today, man?"
"Hey, Shawn. Listen, Dad and I think we've got a hunt lined up, but it's a little uh...well, we need some new IDs. And I mean really, really good IDs. Like, good-enough-for-a-government-facility good."
Shawn smirked a little, wondering just what the Winchesters were getting into now. Apparently a government facility.
"I gotcha covered," he said easily. "Just a sec."
Shawn reached for his backpack and pulled out the Yellow Book. His pineapple bookmark was still on the R names. He flipped back a few pages to the Q's.
Quiddle was one of three names on the page.
"Mark Quiddle," Shawn announced. "He's in Illinois. Runs a copy/printer company in a small town named Clinton. What most people don't know is that he's got some mad skills with forging IDs. You got a pen?"
He gave the number and listened as Dean rattled it off back to him.
"That's it. Yeah, when you call him, tell him Shawn Spencer's calling in a favor. And mention something about canaries. He'll know what I mean."
"What'd you do for him?"
"Convinced his wife to stay with him. I'd say he owes me."
Dean laughed. "Yeah, I guess he does. Thanks, Shawn. This is gonna save our butts."
"So where are you guys going to work? FBI headquarters? Area 51?"
Dean mumbled something, but it was unrecognizable.
"Say again, buddy? I think I missed that."
"The Pentagon," he said louder.
"The Pentagon? Like, the five-sided building of doom and destruction, Pentagon-Pentagon?"
"No, Shawn, the other one. Yes, the Pentagon-Pentagon! Some ghost is making a mess of things inside. Dad wants to go take care of it."
"So I just have to ask," Shawn said with a laugh. "Is your dad trying to get you guys arrested? Because like, Mark's good, I'll give him that, but he's not the Da Vinci of forged identification."
"Can he do it or not, Shawn? You said he was good."
"He is good, but..."
"Yeah, I figured." Dean sighed, and Shawn heard the sound of a door opening and closing, then the quiet sounds of traffic outside.
He knew Dean must be worried if he was stepping outside to talk to Shawn. Naturally, he wouldn't share his worries in front of his father. No one back-talked to John Winchester or suggested that his plans weren't the best.
Well, no one except for Sam, and occasionally Shawn. But whatever.
"How likely do you think it is that we'll be arrested and put in jail for the rest of our lives?" Dean asked, only half joking.
Shawn sighed and closed his Yellow Book to put it away again. But he accidentally dropped it and it fell to the floor. Mumbling quietly in annoyance, he bent to pick it up, not really thinking about the page it had opened to until it was closed.
"Shawn? You okay, man?"
He rested his head on one hand. "Crap," he repeated.
"What? Should I be worried?"
Shawn reopened the Yellow Book with an annoyed huff. "The things I do for you," he mumbled. "Listen, I...a few months ago, I did this thing for this group of people, and..."
"And what, Shawn? I'm feeling a little confused."
"Um, don't call Mark. I uh, I've got to make a call first. Just...hang on a sec. I'll call you back."
He hung up before Dean could protest.
"Crap," he said again, with a sigh.
AN: Up next—Shawn calls a contact for help. ;)