Hello all,

This is a Psych/Supernatural cross. It's post 'Shawn (and Gus) of the Dead' and 'Mystery Spot'. Oh and Lassie is haunted…;)

Mummies, Serial Killers and the Haunting of Carlton Lassiter

Prologue

Motel Somewhere in Nevada…

"Yo Dean!" Sam said, throwing a pillow in his brother's general direction.

Dean groaned softly before rolling over and sitting up. "The hell Sammy!"

"Got a case."

That woke Dean up. "What? Where?"

"Santa Barbara, California. According to the website I just found, a Mummy got out of it's case, strangled the Museum's night watchman and exited the building… all without being caught on camera."

"Freaky," Dean said. "But a Mummy? Be serious Sam!"

"I am serious," Sam said. "Now, I don't know that I believe the whole mummy rising from the dead thing, but this case reeks of the supernatural."

"Oh really?"

"There's even a psychic detective heading up the case."

Dean studied him carefully for a moment. "This isn't like that Hellhounds website, is it? 'Cause one meeting with that kind of freak was enough for me."

"No. It's the blog on the psychic detective's webpage, psych. com …" Dean raised his eyebrows. "What?" Sam asked.

"The psychic detective named his detective agency… Psych?"

Sam's expression darkened slightly. "I know, I know. Either he takes himself a lot less seriously than most psychics we've met, or he's totally running a scam."

"I'm betting on the second option."

"That doesn't explain the thirty plus cases that have been attributed to him. Dean, I think he might be the real deal… And if he thinks that the mummy walked out of the museum…"

"He wrote the blog?"

"No, his partner wrote the blog…" And he wasn't about to tell Dean the screen name that the man had used. What the hell was a 'supersmeller' anyway? "I think that we need to check this out, Dean."

Dean sighed. He knew that tone and the look that accompanied it. "Get everything packed. I'll hit the shower." He ignored the satisfied smile that crossed his brother's face and dragged himself to the bathroom.

He closed the door behind him and that was when it hit him.

It was five am.

Sam had still been awake when Dean had collapsed into his bed at midnight.

He pulled open the door and peeked out, finding the room to be exactly as he'd expected it to be. One bed slept in, the other not even wrinkled.

It looked the way that every hotel room had looked since they'd left Florida three days ago.

He closed the door again and turned to the shower, turning the water on. Oh yeah, he and Sammy were due for a talk.

And this time he was going to get some answers.

Santa Barbara

The next morning…

Sammy was supposed to be the girl in their relationship, so why all of a sudden, was he the one wanting to have the heavy, feeling related conversations and Sam was the one shying away? It just wasn't natural.

Nor was it fair that his little brother was so good at sidetracking him.

"'Oh, I'll just go to the library and do some research.'" Dean muttered darkly. "'You stay here and watch their office. See, it's right on the water. Look at all the girls going by…'"

"I'm too freakin' easy," Dean mumbled, annoyed at himself… But more annoyed at Sam.

The mummy case was solved. No resurrected mummies, just a patricidal suit with bad taste.

So why were they still there, watching the office of one Shawn Spencer, psychic detective?

Because Sammy couldn't leave well enough alone.

So here he was, roasting in his car, watching beautiful, scantily clad girls walk or rollerblade by… People still rollerbladed? Dean shook his head. Moving on… Watching them go by instead of getting out of his car and making his move.

He only had a few months left. Did Sam really want him to spend his time watching a couple of psychic freaks instead of getting his freak on?

As obvious as the answer to that question was…

There was a loud pounding on the roof of the car.

"Shit!" He exclaimed, jumping slightly. He looked out the open driver's side window… straight into his brother's worried face.

How he could have missed his hulking, sweating mass of a little brother racing up to the car he'd never know.

"What the hell, Sammy?" Dean asked. Sam looked like he'd run flat out all the way from the library… a mile and a half away.

"You didn't call on schedule," Sam said, sounded slightly winded.

Dean stared at him in shock for a moment. The kid had run all the way over here because he'd missed his check in?

"Okay, Sam, for one thing, expecting me to call every fifteen minutes, on the dot, is ridiculous." He shifted slightly under his brother's glare, but it was the fear that drove Sam that was a knife in Dean's gut. He wanted to understand that fear. Needed to.

"For another, you didn't have to run over here. You could have called me."

Sam's glare darkened. There was no answer for that. No way to explain the blind panic that had sent him racing out of the library…

"Just don't forget again, okay?"

"Sam…" Dean started.

"Okay?" Sam said, his voice insistent and full of panic.

"Okay Sam," Dean said, his voice as soothing as he could make it. "But…"

"Thanks," Sam said, not acknowledging the fact that Dean had more to say. With one last quick look at his brother, he took off, long legs eating up the sidewalk on his way back to the library.

Dean shook his head. "When this is over, kid, we're gonna have a long talk. I don't care if I have to tie you to a chair first."

He glanced over at the Psych window and sighed.

Boring was not a strong enough word for this…