FIC: Outside Looking In (Supernatural/Anita Blake) PG

[mhalachai]

Outside Looking In
A Supernatural/Anita Blake crossover
by mhalachaiswords

Summary: Sarah Blake hated family reunions... and she's not the only one.
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to the CW and Kripke. Anita Blake belongs to Laurell K. Hamilton. No profit has been made from this fic, and the only benefit to me is proving I can write crossovers of anything.
Rating: PG
Words: 1,315
Note: I had to write this one. It was too easy. So, Micah's eyes... they're supposed to be leopard eyes, but does LKH say he's got pupils like a house cat? Because leopard eyes have round pupils. I'm confused. Help?
Spoilers: Pulls heavily from SPN episode 1x18, Provenance. None for AB.

~~~~~

Sarah Blake hated these family reunions. Tons of stupid family stuff, and trying to understand the weird parts of the family without actually having to talk to them. Her dad had managed to avoid this weekend, working on some kind of estate sale with silver carvings, an area in which Sarah had zero expertise. Was it her fault that her area of specialty was paintings? Oil paintings?

So. A weekend in Springfield, Missouri. The fun times would never stop.

Sarah stared into her glass of cola, wondering why she was here. She didn't really know anyone in the extended family. At least when her mother had been alive, Sarah would have had someone to talk to at the reunion.

The crowd moved around, parting, letting Sarah catch a glimpse of someone she never thought to see at one of these things. She almost choked on her drink. It was crazy cousin Anita, the one that no one in the family ever talked about. Sarah hadn't seen Anita in years, not since Anita was sixteen and Sarah was eleven, and the adults had all been whispering about Anita behind their glasses. Sarah never knew what that was about; her Dad had always steered her clear of Anita. But Dad wasn't here now. Anita was.

And she wasn't alone.

Fascinated, Sarah moved behind the couch seating her great-aunt Giselle to get a better look. Who was the hot guy with her? He was as short as Anita, with tied-back curly brown hair, a swimmer's build, and--

Sarah put her drink down. His eyes were... yellow? Cat's eyes? Sarah blinked. That wasn't possible, for a man to have cat's eyes.

Just like it wasn't possible for a little girl from a portrait to walk around and kill people in a ghostly way?

Anita said something to the guy, and together they left the room. Without knowing why, Sarah followed them. She caught up with the pair in the backyard. The man noticed her first and touched Anita's shoulder to get her attention.

"Um, hi," Sarah said, feeling a little silly. "You're Anita, right?"

"Yes," Anita said. She stared at Sarah. "What do you want?"

"Anita," the man said softly. He held out his hand to Sarah. "I'm Micah Callahan, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you," Sarah said automatically, shaking Micah's hand. It was the oddest thing, but as her hand closed around Micah's, she was surprised that his hand was so smooth, so... human. "I'm Sarah Blake."

"How are you enjoying the reunion?" Micah asked. He had put his arm around Anita's waist, and Sarah couldn't miss how Anita relaxed against him.

"It's..." Sarah glanced around. The only people in the backyard were a gaggle of sullen teenagers by the fence. "Well, honestly, it sucks about as much as always," she said. "My dad managed to get out due to work, but I couldn't escape this fate."

"What do you do?" Micah asked.

"Art dealer," Sarah explained. In spite of her utter silence, Anita was listening to the conversation, watching Sarah's face. "My dad owns an art auction house in New York state, and I've been working there this past year. We deal with a lot of estate sales. That's where Dad is now."

"What about your mother?" Anita asked. "I haven't seen her around."

Sarah's breath stuttered, and she had to look away. "She, um... she died. About a year and a half ago."

Anita sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry," she said.

Sarah managed to smile weakly. "Thanks."

Awkwardly, Anita pushed away from Micah. "I didn't know," she continued. "Things were-- I mean, I didn't really have that much to do with my family."

"It's okay, really," Sarah said firmly.

Anita shook her head. "I just--" She broke off suddenly, fixing Sarah with a hard glare. "Wait, your dad's auction house is in upstate New York?"

"Yes, it is."

"That was your auction house involved in that string of murders three months ago?"

Sarah almost took a step back. "You heard about those?" she demanded. "And it was only two, really, not so much a string as a-- a pair."

"Anita, what are you talking about?"

"I got a call from Agent Bradford at the FBI, they were tracking what looked like the beginning of a serial killer in upstate New York," Anita said. As she spoke, she stood apart from Micah with a little more authority in her spine. "The killer slit the victims' throats at night with a knife or straight razor, leaving no finger prints or other traces, and the houses were locked and alarmed from the inside."

"Why did the FBI call you?" Sarah asked, incredulous. First the Winchester boys, now her cousin knew about this crazy supernatural stuff?

"I'm a Federal Marshall who deals with the weird," Anita said. She crossed her arms over her chest. "And what was odd was that all victims had recently made a purchase from an art house. I didn't realize it was Uncle Philip's."

"It might have been a coincidence," Micah said.

"Sarah doesn't think so," Anita shot back.

Sarah drew herself up. "Do you always go around jumping to conclusions?" she demanded. "It's no wonder no one in the family wants to talk to you."

Micah laid his hand on Anita's arm. "Maybe we need to calm down a bit," he suggested.

"I'm calm," Anita snapped. "You know what's even stranger? The FBI has records of identical murders going back decades starting in 1913, all in the same general upstate area."

"It was 1912," Sarah corrected. "And if the FBI knew about this, why didn't they do something?"

"Do something about what?" Anita demanded. "What do you know about this?"

They were beginning to draw attention from inside the house. Sarah needed to know what the FBI knew, what her cousin knew about the murders of the Telescas and Evelyn. "Do you want to get out of here?" she suggested. "There's a coffee shop a few blocks away that doesn't have Great-Uncle Bruno and his selective hearing sitting in."

"Fine," Anita said, already walking towards the back gate. "I'll see you there."

Micah gave Sarah a brief smile. Up close like this, Sarah could see that his yellow-green eyes weren't in any way human. "That case was really bothering her," he said. "She'll look forward to the explanation." With that pronouncement, he followed Anita.

Sarah let out a sigh. She could just refuse to follow, go back into the family reunion and talk to all the family members she didn't even remember she had...

Or she could talk to someone who was apparently as crazy as she was.

Her purse was still in her car, and all she needed to get was her jacket.

~~~

"So," Anita said as soon as Sarah sat down. "What happened?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "I found out about this after the Telescas died, but..." Now, in this normal place, surrounded by normal people, Sarah felt like a fool. But she'd been in that house with Sam Winchester when they were being attacked by the murderous ghost of Melanie Merchant. Murderous ghost. Anita was going to have her locked up in a loony bin. "Have you ever heard of a haunted painting?"

Anita sat bolt upright. "Really?" she exclaimed. "That explains it!"

"Explains what?" Sarah demanded. "How could a haunted painting explain anything?"

"How the murders happened in locked houses." Anita leaned forward, a spark in her eyes. "What happened?"

Anita didn't think she was crazy. Someone who wasn't a Winchester had heard what she said, and didn't think she was crazy. A weight lifted from Sarah's shoulder. "It's like this..."

All she had to do was avoid mentioning the Winchesters, and most of the illegal stuff they'd done. Still, Sarah had a feeling that Anita might just understand, and that was enough.

the end