Crossover fic: dS/SPN "One Hundred Million Angels Singing" PG-13
Title: One Hundred Million Angels Singing
Author: musegaarid
Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing(s): A dueSouth/Supernatural crossover. Dean/Castiel, Fraser/RayK, random-ass het pairing
Spoilers: Season four of Supernatural
Word Count: ~3,600
Disclaimers: Don't quote me on the details of Vancouver's Museum of Anthropology. Most of that part is made up. So are the characters, but not by me.
Note: This is a very delayed sequel to Hear the Pipers, with permission from the author shadowbyrd. You can read that one first, if you want, because it's awesome, but there's no due South in it.
Summary: “What’s going on?”
“There’s a group of demons in Vancouver. They’re trying to capture one of the seals that Lilith didn’t break. It could give Lucifer greater power if they were to succeed.”
Dean stared. “Vancouver? Seriously?”
“Cas, that’s in Canada,” said Sam.
“We’re near the border,” said Castiel with the verbal equivalent of a shrug. Then as the silence went on a little longer, he added sharply, “This is still a seal.”
“Dude, Canada,” said Dean. “They have Mounties. Can you imagine what would happen if we got a Mountie on our tail? Real Mounties? They always get their man.”
“Angel beats Mountie,” said Sam.
“You think so?” Dean asked.
“I know so,” Castiel countered.
“Fine. Vancouver it is...”
It hadn't been a long journey from Idaho to Vancouver. Despite having a trunk full of hidden weaponry, they had just been waved through the border crossing. Dean was feeling half-elated, half-despairing of the guard's competence, and all paranoid.
"It can't be that easy," he grumbled for the third time. Sam rolled his eyes, looking back down at the map, and Castiel was silent in the back seat, staring at nothing. "Seriously, they just wanted to know if we were sneaking in fruit?"
"Fruits and vegetables pose a risk of introducing pests that have no natural enemy in Canada," Castiel murmured, as if he knew that wasn't what Dean wanted to hear, but felt compelled to say it anyway.
"Like angels," Dean joked.
Sam gave him a Look and changed the subject quickly. "Where are we going, Cas?"
"The Museum of Anthropology."
"Really?" asked Sam, lighting up.
"Jesus, don't geek out on me here, Sammy. Is that where the seal is?"
With a nod, Castiel added, "The seal will be broken when the Lineage is defiled with the blood of the Just."
Dean snorted. "Angel radio is off, dude. You don't need to be cryptic anymore."
"I am not being cryptic. That is the seal."
"So the Lineage is probably an artifact at the museum," Sam interrupted. "Something that represents lineage, anyway. And whoever the Just is, it probably means that someone's in trouble."
"Very likely," replied Castiel.
Shooting Sam a dirty look, Dean asked, "Did you wanna suck up some more or can we just go to the damn museum and save their ass already?"
***
Arriving around 10pm, Dean parked beneath some trees that were situated a few hundred feet from the museum's front entrance. He didn't notice the other car hidden nearby.
While Castiel stood on the rise, calmly watching the museum for signs of intruders, Sam and Dean went through the weapons in the trunk. Dean tossed Sam a couple of guns and a container of holy water, keeping Ruby's knife for himself. He didn't want Sam any closer to those bastards than he needed to be; it was going to be bad enough with all that demon blood around.
"We should try to identify the Lineage before making our presence known," the angel explained. "It may give us an advantage."
Sam nodded. "I'll head left. Dean, you head right and meet me in the back. Cas can take the front. There will be alarms if they haven't been turned off yet."
"The ritual takes place at midnight," intoned Castiel. "If we have not identified the artifact by eleven thirty, we should engage..."
"Blah, blah, blah," said Dean. "Let's go."
Mouth pulled into a tight frown, Sam melted off to the left. Dean headed the opposite direction and Castiel vanished, leaving nothing behind but the two cars and an angry man who started moving fast.
***
Dean was almost halfway around the building when he felt a gun pressed to his temple.
"Police," said a nasally voice in his ear. "Drop your weapon, scumbag."
Dean had told Sam and Castiel that this would happen. He'd told them. There were Mounties everywhere in Canada.
"Officer, I'm so glad you're here," Dean replied with false enthusiasm. "You see, these guys inside kidnapped my brother and…"
"You are so full of shit," the guy interrupted. "Your buddies inside kidnapped my partner, so we're just going to do a little trade. Drop the knife and whatever else you got. Morons at the border just let you waltz in with an entire arsenal…"
Dean totally agreed. "They're not my buddies. I'm actually here to rescue some guy who's just. Must be your partner."
Whatever he'd said had been the wrong thing. The officer got agitated and pressed the gun tighter to Dean's head. "Don't you dare talk about…"
"Ray!"
Dean swiveled his eyes to look at the intruder. Another Mountie. And for all that Dean was new to this maybe being a little interested in an guy-shaped-angel-of-the-lord thing, you'd have to be blind, deaf, and probably dead to miss how gorgeous the new guy was. But he had Sam and that automatically made him an enemy.
"Frase! Jesus. This guy said…"
"I know. I've spoken to his brother. I believe they are here to help us rescue Maggie."
"Who the hell is Maggie?" asked Dean, lost.
They replied at the same time. "My partner." "My sister."
"Dean," said Sam urgently, "They grabbed a female Mountie. She's the Just."
"How many Mounties does this country have, anyway? Do they just shoot out of the ground around here or something?"
"Ray," interrupted the dark-haired guy. "Let Mr. Winchester go. We need to know what's going on and quickly and I believe these men have information that can help us."
After a moment, the guy stepped back and Dean turned to look at his attacker. He was middle-aged, with spiky blondish hair, and was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. "You some kind of undercover Mountie?"
"I'm not a Mountie," the guy, Ray, said. "I'm a Chicago detective who came to Canada on the trail of the murderer of my partner's mom and for reasons that don't need going into right now, I stayed with the American consulate as an unofficial cop-type partner thing." His answer sounded well-rehearsed.
Before Dean could react to such a statement, Castiel strode around the corner. "Sam. Dean. You are wasting time. We must identify the Lineage."
Ray raised his gun again, training it on the angel's chest, but the Mountie fell to his knees instantly and bowed his head.
"Who the hell are you?" Ray asked.
"Ray," murmured Fraser. "He is one of the anirniq. You should show him some respect."
Castiel directed what on anyone else would be a smug look at Dean, who rolled his eyes in return. "You may stand, Benton Fraser."
Ray looked totally thrown. "Frase? What's an anook?"
"Anirniq," he corrected, getting to his feet. "One of the spirits of the air. It is a sublime honor, sir."
"He's an angel," clarified Dean.
"How did you know?" Sam asked the Mountie, curious.
Castiel took a couple of steps toward Fraser and canted his head slightly. After a few seconds, he said, "You have traveled on other planes."
"In a sweat lodge. I…"
"An angel?!" interrupted Ray loudly. "Like a 'the angels are going to come down from Heaven and smite you if you play with yourself, Stanley' type angel? No way. Angels have wings and swords, not flasher coats."
"We do not smite humans for masturbation," answered Castiel calmly.
"Good thing," drawled Sam, "or Dean would have died at least a thousand more times."
That brought about the brotherly glare of death.
"All right," said Dean. "Enough of the angel-Mountie speed dating thing. We've got shit to do." He turned to Ray and Fraser. "Look, we got word that your sister, partner, whatever was kidnapped by demons so that they could sacrifice her in a ritual and break one of the seals that used to hold Lucifer in Hell, giving him more power for the apocalypse that is actually happening, oh, now. Me and Sam are hunters. We kill monsters like vampires, shapeshifters, and demons. Cas is an angel who is kind of along for the ride. If Cas says we gotta find the Lineage, we gotta find it. You guys can help or you can get the hell out of our way, yeah?"
Ray wordlessly mouthed 'Apocalypse?' while Fraser asked, "The Lineage?"
"There's a prophecy," Sam explained, "that says 'The seal will be broken when the Lineage is defiled with the blood of the Just.'"
"The Lineage is probably an object at the museum. Something that represents ancestry."
"Yeah, that's what I said."
Fraser looked thoughtful. "There are any number of items here that represent the ancestors or familial ties, but the most important declarations of clan lineage are the totems. Some of them are over a hundred and fifty years old. The museum's rotunda contains most of them. They're in the center of the building."
"That's where they've got her, then," said Dean. "So we bust in and grab the girl, while you two torch the poles, and Cas keeps the demons back."
"We can't destroy the totems!" Fraser exclaimed. "That is the cultural record of a threatened society. Not to mention that the fire would spread to the whole museum."
"Dude, either we burn some old wood or demons murder your sister and destroy the world. The Indians will understand."
"First Nations."
"Whatever. You in?"
Fraser looked uncertain. "May I speak privately with my partner for a moment?"
Dean shrugged. "We don't have a lot of time, but yeah, knock yourself out."
Fraser grabbed Ray's arm and took him about ten yards away. Ray was making sharp jabbing motions with his hands, clearly not pleased, while the Mountie just looked miserable. After a couple of minutes, they returned.
"All right," said Ray, throwing his arms out. "How do we do this?"
"You got a lighter?" Dean asked. When Ray shook his head, Dean tossed his over. "Go for the oldest pole. That's usually the important one." He looked at Fraser. "You know which it is?"
"Yes."
"Good. Stay out of sight. Trust me, you do not want to mess with demons. They can kick your ass from all the way across the room. We'll give you some holy water, just in case." Dean nodded at Sam, who handed over a bottle.
"All it does is slow them down a little, though," Sam added. "The best thing you can do is stay hidden and don't react no matter what you see or hear."
Ray looked nervous. "These are real actual demons, yeah? What do they look like?"
"Demons are largely formless," explained Castiel. "They must therefore take human hosts."
"Human… you mean there are possessed people inside?! There's gonna be heads spinning around and pea soup everywhere?"
The angel frowned, looking puzzled. "No."
"Those people are hostages," Fraser decided, looking at Dean. "Is there a way of removing the demons without killing their hosts?"
"Yeah, but it takes a hell of a lot longer."
Fraser's eyes were cold blue steel. "Do it."
"I always try," Dean replied. "So can we get this show on the road or what?"
***
They crept in through the back door, sticking as closely as possible to the walls. The Mountie and the cop were actually pretty good at being stealthy; Dean was vaguely impressed. With Fraser leading the way through the building, they made their way to the rotunda and Dean got his first look at the situation. Tied to a low altar set up in the center of the round room was a pretty blonde woman in a uniform. Surrounding her were probably a dozen totem poles and about as many demons.
Fraser scanned the room and turned back to whisper at his companions. "The man in the grey suit is Dr. David Tornarsuk," he breathed. "He is the curator of the museum."
Dean shook his head. "Not right now he's not. Right now he's a demon who knows everything that Dr. Dave does, and you'd better not forget that."
Ray caught Fraser's eye. "That means you can't reason with him."
Fraser gazed back steadily, but said nothing.
"You guys stay here," instructed Sam. "Dean and I will distract them from the other side. Then Cas will pop in and start doing his thing. When everything starts getting crazy, you go for the totem, okay?"
Fraser and Ray nodded their understanding.
Before Sam and Dean had made it halfway around the circle again, the woman in the center started struggling against her bonds. "This is kidnapping and assault of a police officer," she said in an angry, but controlled voice. "Let me go and I will remove the lesser charge."
The demons laughed. Dr. Tornarsuk leaned forward. "Oh, I don't think so, my dear. In fact, in about twenty minutes, we'll be adding a murder charge to that rap sheet."
The blonde went pale just as Dean and Sam stepped out of their hiding place. "Think again, asshole."
All hell broke loose.
Swerving to avoid the large woman that was running at him, Dean spun around and drove Ruby's knife into the back of her leg. Coughing out a cloud of black smoke, she fell to the ground, unconscious.
In the meantime, Sam had held up his right hand and made the constipated look that indicated that he was attempting to use his psychic powers. He was still weak after the demon blood detox, though, and Dean just grumbled his name in warning. Changing his mind, Sam splashed holy water on the nearest demon and started an exorcism ritual.
Castiel showed up a moment later and placed his hand on the forehead of a young man wearing a baseball uniform. There was a bright flash of light as the demon was burned right out of its host.
Amidst the noise and chaos, Dr. Tornarsuk stepped up to the altar and grabbed Maggie's hair sharply. Dean heard him say that they needed to speed the process up and he took out a huge knife, pressing it to her throat. Spinning to stab a demon who was attempting to creep up behind him, Dean missed the moment when Fraser came out of hiding in an attempt to rescue his sister.
Dr. Tornarsuk laughed. "I see the cavalry is here. But I'm afraid I can't have you interfering, Corporal Fraser." He made a gesture and Fraser went soaring across the room and crashed into one of the totems, landing with a sick thud.
The distraction gave Dean enough time to get to the altar. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught flames coming off one of the poles. "Better luck next time," he said, voice like gravel, as he sunk Ruby's knife into Dr. Tornarsuk's shoulder. As the demon poured out of the curator's mouth, Dean noticed that the constant flow of Latin had stopped. Across the room, one demon was holding Sam's mouth shut - there was a trickle of blood running down his lip - and another standing in front of him, smirking like only a teenager can. Sam was struggling, but Dean was too far away to help and Castiel was busy with three demons of his own.
Two things happened in close succession. First, the blonde woman on the altar sat up, having escaped her bonds somehow, pulled the knife out of Dr. Tornarsuk's shoulder, and threw it straight into the back of the demon holding Sam. It collapsed with a gurgle. At about the same moment, the cop that Dean had frankly forgotten about, stepped out from behind the merrily burning totem pole, splashed holy water on the demon facing Sam, and finished the exorcism rite.
"…in nomine et virtute Domini Nostri Jesu Christi, eradicare et effugare a Dei Ecclesia, ab animabus ad imaginem Dei conditis ac pretioso divini Agni sanguine redemptis."
The girl hit the ground at the same time as Castiel's final victim and everything was silent and still for a moment. Then the cop was running across the room towards his fallen companion who was lying in a puddle of blood.
"Fraser?! Frase? C'mon buddy, be all right." He checked the Mountie's pulse desperately. "FRASER!"
The Mountie slowly opened his eyes. "Steve…?" He blinked a couple of times and shook his head. "Ray."
Ray sighed. "Yeah, it's me. Jesus, Frase… I…" Then he leaned forward and kissed the Mountie square on the lips. Dean's eyebrows shot up. It was one thing to have done it himself with Castiel a few weeks prior and something else entirely to have to see it. Dean wondered if he and Cas had looked that weird. Then he wondered if watching this was reminding the angel of their own kiss and if maybe he was a little turned-on, as well…
By this time, Sam had made his way to the center of the room. Dean raised a hand to clap his brother on the shoulder, but gigantor avoided him and went for the chick instead. Figures.
Cutting the ropes that held her legs, Sam turned his earnest eyes to the woman and said, "You saved my life."
She smiled slightly. "And you saved mine. I think we're even."
Dean snorted.
"I'm Sam," said Sam.
"Maggie," said the woman.
"Maggie," repeated Sam. They stared at each other for a long moment until Dean cleared his throat loudly.
Maggie lost the dazed look and became all professional. "We need to get some ambulances and a fire truck here immediately."
Castiel, who had been silently watching the exchange, waved his hand and the fire went out.
"Nice trick," she said, directing an assessing gaze at the angel.
"That artifact will need to be fully destroyed," he replied.
***
Maggie took control of the scene, providing some basic first aid to the people who had been stabbed. Dean had tried not to hit anything vital. The guy with the knife still in his back was in the worst shape, but the EMTs, when they came, said he would probably make it through with nothing worse than a punctured lung and a nasty scar. Dr. Tornarsuk had lost a lot of blood, but they believed that he would pull through, too. All the victims would.
After a couple of hours of clean-up and implausible stories about the victims, the other Mounties and medical personnel disappeared, leaving Sam, Dean, Castiel, Fraser, Ray, and Maggie behind. Fraser had butterfly bandages across his temple and was limping a little as Ray led him toward the clearing where Dean had parked.
"Dude, I am not letting the bleeding guy in my car. She's a classic."
Ray gave him a strange look. "Mine's a classic, too." He pointed to the car Dean hadn't seen until then. It was low, sleek, and black.
Dean gave a whistle. "GTO?" he asked.
"Yeah," said Ray, helping Fraser into the passenger seat. "1967. Yours?"
"'67 Impala," Dean grinned. They shared an appreciative look.
Feeling a little more relaxed, Dean asked, "Thanks for saving Sammy back there. How'd you know the exorcism?"
"Catholic school."
"Huh."
Dean glanced at Fraser, then back at Ray. "So, you two…"
"Yeah." Ray's eyes were soft as he watched the Mountie place his hat on the dash. "Maggie's my cop-type partner. He's my life-type partner. They don't let you have one person for both." He looked at Dean. "You got a problem with that?"
Dean couldn't help but glance back at Castiel standing by the Impala looking otherworldly and remote. It was increasingly difficult to remember the simple joy the angel had shown in the rain a few weeks back. "Nah."
Ray nodded. "Sometimes you can't help it when you've been through a lot together…"
"Should we expect trouble?" Dean deflected, inclining his head toward Fraser. "Seems like this family goes by the book."
Carefully closing the passenger door, Ray turned to Dean. "You saved a lot of people from demons today and no one died. How about we take that as a pass? I don't think Maggie'll mind." He pointed at her and Sam with a weird four-fingered gesture.
Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets. "He's, ah, got a thing for badass blondes."
"Yeah, well, she's got a thing for tall, dark criminals," Ray retorted. Before Dean could react, Ray slid into the driver's side and started up the car. Rolling down the window, he said, "Go save the world."
Dean watched them leave.
When he turned around, Sam was standing behind him. "So, uh, I think I'll take you up on that offer…"
"What offer?"
"You wanted to get two hotel rooms the next time we stopped."
Dean's lip curled up. "Seriously, man, you're going to cougar-ville? She's like ten years older than you. And a Mountie."
"So? Cas is like a million years older than you. Literally."
"Sam," interrupted Castiel. "You did well tonight. Dean, you should let Sam and Maggie have their own room." Dean could trace a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
"Two against one," Sam grinned.
Dean made a show of giving up. "Jesus, fine. But you know that angel beats Mountie, right?”
“You think so?” Sam asked, gazing back at Maggie.
Castiel lifted one shoulder in what might have been a shrug.
"I know so," Dean smirked.
Author: musegaarid
Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing(s): A dueSouth/Supernatural crossover. Dean/Castiel, Fraser/RayK, random-ass het pairing
Spoilers: Season four of Supernatural
Word Count: ~3,600
Disclaimers: Don't quote me on the details of Vancouver's Museum of Anthropology. Most of that part is made up. So are the characters, but not by me.
Note: This is a very delayed sequel to Hear the Pipers, with permission from the author shadowbyrd. You can read that one first, if you want, because it's awesome, but there's no due South in it.
Summary: “What’s going on?”
“There’s a group of demons in Vancouver. They’re trying to capture one of the seals that Lilith didn’t break. It could give Lucifer greater power if they were to succeed.”
Dean stared. “Vancouver? Seriously?”
“Cas, that’s in Canada,” said Sam.
“We’re near the border,” said Castiel with the verbal equivalent of a shrug. Then as the silence went on a little longer, he added sharply, “This is still a seal.”
“Dude, Canada,” said Dean. “They have Mounties. Can you imagine what would happen if we got a Mountie on our tail? Real Mounties? They always get their man.”
“Angel beats Mountie,” said Sam.
“You think so?” Dean asked.
“I know so,” Castiel countered.
“Fine. Vancouver it is...”
It hadn't been a long journey from Idaho to Vancouver. Despite having a trunk full of hidden weaponry, they had just been waved through the border crossing. Dean was feeling half-elated, half-despairing of the guard's competence, and all paranoid.
"It can't be that easy," he grumbled for the third time. Sam rolled his eyes, looking back down at the map, and Castiel was silent in the back seat, staring at nothing. "Seriously, they just wanted to know if we were sneaking in fruit?"
"Fruits and vegetables pose a risk of introducing pests that have no natural enemy in Canada," Castiel murmured, as if he knew that wasn't what Dean wanted to hear, but felt compelled to say it anyway.
"Like angels," Dean joked.
Sam gave him a Look and changed the subject quickly. "Where are we going, Cas?"
"The Museum of Anthropology."
"Really?" asked Sam, lighting up.
"Jesus, don't geek out on me here, Sammy. Is that where the seal is?"
With a nod, Castiel added, "The seal will be broken when the Lineage is defiled with the blood of the Just."
Dean snorted. "Angel radio is off, dude. You don't need to be cryptic anymore."
"I am not being cryptic. That is the seal."
"So the Lineage is probably an artifact at the museum," Sam interrupted. "Something that represents lineage, anyway. And whoever the Just is, it probably means that someone's in trouble."
"Very likely," replied Castiel.
Shooting Sam a dirty look, Dean asked, "Did you wanna suck up some more or can we just go to the damn museum and save their ass already?"
***
Arriving around 10pm, Dean parked beneath some trees that were situated a few hundred feet from the museum's front entrance. He didn't notice the other car hidden nearby.
While Castiel stood on the rise, calmly watching the museum for signs of intruders, Sam and Dean went through the weapons in the trunk. Dean tossed Sam a couple of guns and a container of holy water, keeping Ruby's knife for himself. He didn't want Sam any closer to those bastards than he needed to be; it was going to be bad enough with all that demon blood around.
"We should try to identify the Lineage before making our presence known," the angel explained. "It may give us an advantage."
Sam nodded. "I'll head left. Dean, you head right and meet me in the back. Cas can take the front. There will be alarms if they haven't been turned off yet."
"The ritual takes place at midnight," intoned Castiel. "If we have not identified the artifact by eleven thirty, we should engage..."
"Blah, blah, blah," said Dean. "Let's go."
Mouth pulled into a tight frown, Sam melted off to the left. Dean headed the opposite direction and Castiel vanished, leaving nothing behind but the two cars and an angry man who started moving fast.
***
Dean was almost halfway around the building when he felt a gun pressed to his temple.
"Police," said a nasally voice in his ear. "Drop your weapon, scumbag."
Dean had told Sam and Castiel that this would happen. He'd told them. There were Mounties everywhere in Canada.
"Officer, I'm so glad you're here," Dean replied with false enthusiasm. "You see, these guys inside kidnapped my brother and…"
"You are so full of shit," the guy interrupted. "Your buddies inside kidnapped my partner, so we're just going to do a little trade. Drop the knife and whatever else you got. Morons at the border just let you waltz in with an entire arsenal…"
Dean totally agreed. "They're not my buddies. I'm actually here to rescue some guy who's just. Must be your partner."
Whatever he'd said had been the wrong thing. The officer got agitated and pressed the gun tighter to Dean's head. "Don't you dare talk about…"
"Ray!"
Dean swiveled his eyes to look at the intruder. Another Mountie. And for all that Dean was new to this maybe being a little interested in an guy-shaped-angel-of-the-lord thing, you'd have to be blind, deaf, and probably dead to miss how gorgeous the new guy was. But he had Sam and that automatically made him an enemy.
"Frase! Jesus. This guy said…"
"I know. I've spoken to his brother. I believe they are here to help us rescue Maggie."
"Who the hell is Maggie?" asked Dean, lost.
They replied at the same time. "My partner." "My sister."
"Dean," said Sam urgently, "They grabbed a female Mountie. She's the Just."
"How many Mounties does this country have, anyway? Do they just shoot out of the ground around here or something?"
"Ray," interrupted the dark-haired guy. "Let Mr. Winchester go. We need to know what's going on and quickly and I believe these men have information that can help us."
After a moment, the guy stepped back and Dean turned to look at his attacker. He was middle-aged, with spiky blondish hair, and was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. "You some kind of undercover Mountie?"
"I'm not a Mountie," the guy, Ray, said. "I'm a Chicago detective who came to Canada on the trail of the murderer of my partner's mom and for reasons that don't need going into right now, I stayed with the American consulate as an unofficial cop-type partner thing." His answer sounded well-rehearsed.
Before Dean could react to such a statement, Castiel strode around the corner. "Sam. Dean. You are wasting time. We must identify the Lineage."
Ray raised his gun again, training it on the angel's chest, but the Mountie fell to his knees instantly and bowed his head.
"Who the hell are you?" Ray asked.
"Ray," murmured Fraser. "He is one of the anirniq. You should show him some respect."
Castiel directed what on anyone else would be a smug look at Dean, who rolled his eyes in return. "You may stand, Benton Fraser."
Ray looked totally thrown. "Frase? What's an anook?"
"Anirniq," he corrected, getting to his feet. "One of the spirits of the air. It is a sublime honor, sir."
"He's an angel," clarified Dean.
"How did you know?" Sam asked the Mountie, curious.
Castiel took a couple of steps toward Fraser and canted his head slightly. After a few seconds, he said, "You have traveled on other planes."
"In a sweat lodge. I…"
"An angel?!" interrupted Ray loudly. "Like a 'the angels are going to come down from Heaven and smite you if you play with yourself, Stanley' type angel? No way. Angels have wings and swords, not flasher coats."
"We do not smite humans for masturbation," answered Castiel calmly.
"Good thing," drawled Sam, "or Dean would have died at least a thousand more times."
That brought about the brotherly glare of death.
"All right," said Dean. "Enough of the angel-Mountie speed dating thing. We've got shit to do." He turned to Ray and Fraser. "Look, we got word that your sister, partner, whatever was kidnapped by demons so that they could sacrifice her in a ritual and break one of the seals that used to hold Lucifer in Hell, giving him more power for the apocalypse that is actually happening, oh, now. Me and Sam are hunters. We kill monsters like vampires, shapeshifters, and demons. Cas is an angel who is kind of along for the ride. If Cas says we gotta find the Lineage, we gotta find it. You guys can help or you can get the hell out of our way, yeah?"
Ray wordlessly mouthed 'Apocalypse?' while Fraser asked, "The Lineage?"
"There's a prophecy," Sam explained, "that says 'The seal will be broken when the Lineage is defiled with the blood of the Just.'"
"The Lineage is probably an object at the museum. Something that represents ancestry."
"Yeah, that's what I said."
Fraser looked thoughtful. "There are any number of items here that represent the ancestors or familial ties, but the most important declarations of clan lineage are the totems. Some of them are over a hundred and fifty years old. The museum's rotunda contains most of them. They're in the center of the building."
"That's where they've got her, then," said Dean. "So we bust in and grab the girl, while you two torch the poles, and Cas keeps the demons back."
"We can't destroy the totems!" Fraser exclaimed. "That is the cultural record of a threatened society. Not to mention that the fire would spread to the whole museum."
"Dude, either we burn some old wood or demons murder your sister and destroy the world. The Indians will understand."
"First Nations."
"Whatever. You in?"
Fraser looked uncertain. "May I speak privately with my partner for a moment?"
Dean shrugged. "We don't have a lot of time, but yeah, knock yourself out."
Fraser grabbed Ray's arm and took him about ten yards away. Ray was making sharp jabbing motions with his hands, clearly not pleased, while the Mountie just looked miserable. After a couple of minutes, they returned.
"All right," said Ray, throwing his arms out. "How do we do this?"
"You got a lighter?" Dean asked. When Ray shook his head, Dean tossed his over. "Go for the oldest pole. That's usually the important one." He looked at Fraser. "You know which it is?"
"Yes."
"Good. Stay out of sight. Trust me, you do not want to mess with demons. They can kick your ass from all the way across the room. We'll give you some holy water, just in case." Dean nodded at Sam, who handed over a bottle.
"All it does is slow them down a little, though," Sam added. "The best thing you can do is stay hidden and don't react no matter what you see or hear."
Ray looked nervous. "These are real actual demons, yeah? What do they look like?"
"Demons are largely formless," explained Castiel. "They must therefore take human hosts."
"Human… you mean there are possessed people inside?! There's gonna be heads spinning around and pea soup everywhere?"
The angel frowned, looking puzzled. "No."
"Those people are hostages," Fraser decided, looking at Dean. "Is there a way of removing the demons without killing their hosts?"
"Yeah, but it takes a hell of a lot longer."
Fraser's eyes were cold blue steel. "Do it."
"I always try," Dean replied. "So can we get this show on the road or what?"
***
They crept in through the back door, sticking as closely as possible to the walls. The Mountie and the cop were actually pretty good at being stealthy; Dean was vaguely impressed. With Fraser leading the way through the building, they made their way to the rotunda and Dean got his first look at the situation. Tied to a low altar set up in the center of the round room was a pretty blonde woman in a uniform. Surrounding her were probably a dozen totem poles and about as many demons.
Fraser scanned the room and turned back to whisper at his companions. "The man in the grey suit is Dr. David Tornarsuk," he breathed. "He is the curator of the museum."
Dean shook his head. "Not right now he's not. Right now he's a demon who knows everything that Dr. Dave does, and you'd better not forget that."
Ray caught Fraser's eye. "That means you can't reason with him."
Fraser gazed back steadily, but said nothing.
"You guys stay here," instructed Sam. "Dean and I will distract them from the other side. Then Cas will pop in and start doing his thing. When everything starts getting crazy, you go for the totem, okay?"
Fraser and Ray nodded their understanding.
Before Sam and Dean had made it halfway around the circle again, the woman in the center started struggling against her bonds. "This is kidnapping and assault of a police officer," she said in an angry, but controlled voice. "Let me go and I will remove the lesser charge."
The demons laughed. Dr. Tornarsuk leaned forward. "Oh, I don't think so, my dear. In fact, in about twenty minutes, we'll be adding a murder charge to that rap sheet."
The blonde went pale just as Dean and Sam stepped out of their hiding place. "Think again, asshole."
All hell broke loose.
Swerving to avoid the large woman that was running at him, Dean spun around and drove Ruby's knife into the back of her leg. Coughing out a cloud of black smoke, she fell to the ground, unconscious.
In the meantime, Sam had held up his right hand and made the constipated look that indicated that he was attempting to use his psychic powers. He was still weak after the demon blood detox, though, and Dean just grumbled his name in warning. Changing his mind, Sam splashed holy water on the nearest demon and started an exorcism ritual.
Castiel showed up a moment later and placed his hand on the forehead of a young man wearing a baseball uniform. There was a bright flash of light as the demon was burned right out of its host.
Amidst the noise and chaos, Dr. Tornarsuk stepped up to the altar and grabbed Maggie's hair sharply. Dean heard him say that they needed to speed the process up and he took out a huge knife, pressing it to her throat. Spinning to stab a demon who was attempting to creep up behind him, Dean missed the moment when Fraser came out of hiding in an attempt to rescue his sister.
Dr. Tornarsuk laughed. "I see the cavalry is here. But I'm afraid I can't have you interfering, Corporal Fraser." He made a gesture and Fraser went soaring across the room and crashed into one of the totems, landing with a sick thud.
The distraction gave Dean enough time to get to the altar. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught flames coming off one of the poles. "Better luck next time," he said, voice like gravel, as he sunk Ruby's knife into Dr. Tornarsuk's shoulder. As the demon poured out of the curator's mouth, Dean noticed that the constant flow of Latin had stopped. Across the room, one demon was holding Sam's mouth shut - there was a trickle of blood running down his lip - and another standing in front of him, smirking like only a teenager can. Sam was struggling, but Dean was too far away to help and Castiel was busy with three demons of his own.
Two things happened in close succession. First, the blonde woman on the altar sat up, having escaped her bonds somehow, pulled the knife out of Dr. Tornarsuk's shoulder, and threw it straight into the back of the demon holding Sam. It collapsed with a gurgle. At about the same moment, the cop that Dean had frankly forgotten about, stepped out from behind the merrily burning totem pole, splashed holy water on the demon facing Sam, and finished the exorcism rite.
"…in nomine et virtute Domini Nostri Jesu Christi, eradicare et effugare a Dei Ecclesia, ab animabus ad imaginem Dei conditis ac pretioso divini Agni sanguine redemptis."
The girl hit the ground at the same time as Castiel's final victim and everything was silent and still for a moment. Then the cop was running across the room towards his fallen companion who was lying in a puddle of blood.
"Fraser?! Frase? C'mon buddy, be all right." He checked the Mountie's pulse desperately. "FRASER!"
The Mountie slowly opened his eyes. "Steve…?" He blinked a couple of times and shook his head. "Ray."
Ray sighed. "Yeah, it's me. Jesus, Frase… I…" Then he leaned forward and kissed the Mountie square on the lips. Dean's eyebrows shot up. It was one thing to have done it himself with Castiel a few weeks prior and something else entirely to have to see it. Dean wondered if he and Cas had looked that weird. Then he wondered if watching this was reminding the angel of their own kiss and if maybe he was a little turned-on, as well…
By this time, Sam had made his way to the center of the room. Dean raised a hand to clap his brother on the shoulder, but gigantor avoided him and went for the chick instead. Figures.
Cutting the ropes that held her legs, Sam turned his earnest eyes to the woman and said, "You saved my life."
She smiled slightly. "And you saved mine. I think we're even."
Dean snorted.
"I'm Sam," said Sam.
"Maggie," said the woman.
"Maggie," repeated Sam. They stared at each other for a long moment until Dean cleared his throat loudly.
Maggie lost the dazed look and became all professional. "We need to get some ambulances and a fire truck here immediately."
Castiel, who had been silently watching the exchange, waved his hand and the fire went out.
"Nice trick," she said, directing an assessing gaze at the angel.
"That artifact will need to be fully destroyed," he replied.
***
Maggie took control of the scene, providing some basic first aid to the people who had been stabbed. Dean had tried not to hit anything vital. The guy with the knife still in his back was in the worst shape, but the EMTs, when they came, said he would probably make it through with nothing worse than a punctured lung and a nasty scar. Dr. Tornarsuk had lost a lot of blood, but they believed that he would pull through, too. All the victims would.
After a couple of hours of clean-up and implausible stories about the victims, the other Mounties and medical personnel disappeared, leaving Sam, Dean, Castiel, Fraser, Ray, and Maggie behind. Fraser had butterfly bandages across his temple and was limping a little as Ray led him toward the clearing where Dean had parked.
"Dude, I am not letting the bleeding guy in my car. She's a classic."
Ray gave him a strange look. "Mine's a classic, too." He pointed to the car Dean hadn't seen until then. It was low, sleek, and black.
Dean gave a whistle. "GTO?" he asked.
"Yeah," said Ray, helping Fraser into the passenger seat. "1967. Yours?"
"'67 Impala," Dean grinned. They shared an appreciative look.
Feeling a little more relaxed, Dean asked, "Thanks for saving Sammy back there. How'd you know the exorcism?"
"Catholic school."
"Huh."
Dean glanced at Fraser, then back at Ray. "So, you two…"
"Yeah." Ray's eyes were soft as he watched the Mountie place his hat on the dash. "Maggie's my cop-type partner. He's my life-type partner. They don't let you have one person for both." He looked at Dean. "You got a problem with that?"
Dean couldn't help but glance back at Castiel standing by the Impala looking otherworldly and remote. It was increasingly difficult to remember the simple joy the angel had shown in the rain a few weeks back. "Nah."
Ray nodded. "Sometimes you can't help it when you've been through a lot together…"
"Should we expect trouble?" Dean deflected, inclining his head toward Fraser. "Seems like this family goes by the book."
Carefully closing the passenger door, Ray turned to Dean. "You saved a lot of people from demons today and no one died. How about we take that as a pass? I don't think Maggie'll mind." He pointed at her and Sam with a weird four-fingered gesture.
Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets. "He's, ah, got a thing for badass blondes."
"Yeah, well, she's got a thing for tall, dark criminals," Ray retorted. Before Dean could react, Ray slid into the driver's side and started up the car. Rolling down the window, he said, "Go save the world."
Dean watched them leave.
When he turned around, Sam was standing behind him. "So, uh, I think I'll take you up on that offer…"
"What offer?"
"You wanted to get two hotel rooms the next time we stopped."
Dean's lip curled up. "Seriously, man, you're going to cougar-ville? She's like ten years older than you. And a Mountie."
"So? Cas is like a million years older than you. Literally."
"Sam," interrupted Castiel. "You did well tonight. Dean, you should let Sam and Maggie have their own room." Dean could trace a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
"Two against one," Sam grinned.
Dean made a show of giving up. "Jesus, fine. But you know that angel beats Mountie, right?”
“You think so?” Sam asked, gazing back at Maggie.
Castiel lifted one shoulder in what might have been a shrug.
"I know so," Dean smirked.