ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ||ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ

ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱʀᴏᴀᴅ ʙʟᴜᴇꜱ (ᴘᴛ 1)

Sam, Dean, and Y/N are sitting at a table, Sam with his laptop. On the laptop is a mugshot of Dean from the St. Louis police department.

"So much for a low profile. You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database," Sam says. Dean grins.

"Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something."

"Dean, it's not funny. Makes the job harder, we've gotta be more careful now," Y/N says.

"Well, what do they got on you?" Dean asks, looking at Sam.

"I'm sure they just haven't posted it yet," he mutters.

"No accessory? Nothing?"

"Shut up." Dean and Y/N laugh.

"You're jealous," she says.

"No, I'm not!"

"What about you?" Sam asks, nodding his head to Y/N.

"Well, um, that's something for me to know and you to not know," Y/N smiles sheepishly.

"Anyway. What do you get on the case there, you innocent, harmless young man, you?" Dean asks. Sam shuts his computer, annoyed, and pulls out several pages of research.

"Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed."

"Hmm. Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call animal control?" Y/N asks.

"Two days earlier."

"Did he actually say Black Dog?"

"Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog. The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up, and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive."

"Do you think we're dealing with an actual Black Dog?" Dean asks.

"Well, maybe."

"What's the lore on it?" Y/N asks. Sam passes Y/N the pages, Dean looks over at them.

"It's all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but...some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyway, whatever they are, they're big and nasty."

"Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg, look at that one, huh?" Dean says, holding up a picture and smirking. Sam glares; the smirk slips. "What? They could."

"Trust you to say that," Y/N says, snatching one of Dean's chips.

==

In a posh, well-lit room, Sam and Dean are wearing suits, Y/N her blouse, pants, and jacket once again, and interviewing a man.

"So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?" Sam asks.

"That's right. Now one more time, this is for...?" the man asks.

"A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest," Y/N says, and the man laughs.

"This funny to you?" Dean asks.

"No, it...it's just, a tribute. Yeah. See, Sean always got the tribute. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind...well, he gets another tribute."

"Right. Any idea why he'd do such a thing?" Sam asks.

"I have no clue. I mean, he lived a charmed life."

"How so?"

"He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I...and it wasn't always that way, either."