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Rather than finding this case himself, Dean had actually been sent a link to an article by another hunter as due to an injury, the hunter wasn't up to handling it himself. Dean rather agreed that men who were last seen at the location of whatever party last happened showing up dead, sometimes miles away, was worth looking into.

Cue Dean arriving in town a few days later. He's checked into a motel within half an hour, and in his suit to do the FBI thing to ask questions and gather what information he can soon after. Starting at the police station.

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This particular whisper of weirdness had actually gotten to them via Dr. Vanessa, since apparently the ME on the case had gone to school with her, once upon a time. So when several corpses, nearly all young men in the prime of life, start showing up under suspicious circumstances and with really strange body chemistry, it rated an unofficial call to the CDC, which ended up with Claudia showing up. Sure, the Secret Service didn't normally get involved with things like this, but given that there were potential implications, and they were part of Homeland...

Claudia had spun the tale out with a 'well, what can you do?' shrug, and was already talking to the first cop who'd been on scene with the latest victim. But something made her turn, straightening a little as she noticed a man in a suit striding purposefully her way. His suit fit better than hers, because Myka had suggested appearing just a little less put together than average would sell her being low woman on the totem pole, sent to look into something because someone upstairs got a bee in their bonnet.

It made her a little uncomfortable with how the less than perfectly tailored suit jacket showed the lines of the holstered gun under one arm, but that also hid the mini-Tesla nestled in the small of her back that she was more comfortable with. Still, this guy had something about him that made her narrow her eyes, ready to try to turn this into a federal pissing contest if she had to throw another person off the trail.

Oh great. Looks like someone got here first. Well, he could always try to pull rank and run her off. Or at least get her tied up with phone calls to bitch about him to higher-ups, giving him time to work.

He takes a moment to find out who he should talk to, getting pointed at the cop the redhead was talking to--of course--and walks over with long strides. He's flashing his badge a moment later before putting it away. "I'm Agent Morrissey. What can you tell me about the recent attacks?"

The cop looks like he's about to have a headache, looking between Dean and Claudia. "Uh..."

"Don't worry, Officer Simmons, I'm sure Special Agent Morrissey is just misinformed on a few details," Claudia said, her eyes narrowing a little. Whoever this guy was, he didn't read as a fed. For starters, there was a reason they were special agents. An agent of a government had powers that anyone merely with a badge did not, and there were plenty of legal implications. "The bodies have been ruled suspicious, not victims of an attack, but I'm sure you just wanted to get ahead of the curve since that might be something in your jurisdiction."

She tried to keep her tone mild, but it said something. This guy seemed almost as bad a match to the job as she did, but she pulled out her own badge, and held it open, giving him more than enough time to view and take in the shield and photo ID. "Claudia Donovan, Secret Service. Nobody mentioned the FBI was involved in this one."

Dean's expression goes blank when the words 'Secret Service' leaves the redhead's mouth. Shit. Shit, damn, and fuck. Not good. Not good at all. He's suddenly wishing he let someone else take the case.

"Funnily enough, no one mentioned Secret Service was either," Dean says evenly, after he's recovered. "One, are you really going to try to tell me that no one was behind these deaths? Two, aren't you a little young to be Secret Service? Shouldn't you be in college or something? Also, three, is there reason to believe whatever's going on here is a threat to the President?"

Edited Date: 2016-11-20 05:24 am (UTC)

Claudia lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, adjusting her ill-fitting jacket like she really was some new kid sent on a bullshit assignment. "I didn't realize the FBI was having so much trouble finding people who could read the manual," she responded. "Do you really want to do this in here? Because I'm sure all these good people would enjoy the pissing contest, but I have work to do. That doesn't involve clearing up your ignorance of my agency's jurisdiction outside of the bodyguard gig."

Seriously, what was it with everyone always assuming the Secret Service were protecting the President? There were more people working for them in Las Vegas than DC. "That the deaths are connected isn't the issue. There is no evidence that the cause of death was human in nature, but you can get that from the medical examiner."

She wasn't about to answer the thing about her age, because it was why she got assigned, and pretending to get her back up would do more for her credentials than any proof of graduation. Maybe she should have coughed up the money for the class ring, though.

"If you have any more insulting questions to ask, I suggest we take this somewhere less public." And somewhere she really hoped she wouldn't have to zot him.

"I was already planning to pay them a visit. Thanks for the suggestion though," Dean says blandly before looking at the cop who looked like he wished he could disappear into the floor. "Now would be a good time to get whatever related files you have."

He has work to do. With or without this... kid in the way.

"Also a less public location would be nice," he says as an afterthought, heading to the room he was given directions to. She could follow him or not. He didn't care, although he hoped for 'not' so he could put off further departmental infighting.

Assuming she even was who she said she was. The thought makes him miss Bobby and having him handy to investigate these things.

Claudia shook her head slightly, and gave a sympathetic look to the poor cop. She understood his predicament, and knew she didn't want to hurt his career because some jackass tried to throw his badge around. Especially when she was sorta here to do the same thing. Which is why she fell into step beside him on the way down the hall.

"I didn't realize Quantico was graduating guys like you," Claudia said, the comment a test, although not the greatest one. Still, another slip-up and she might have to get some real answers. The kind anyone impersonating a federal agent wouldn't want to give.

Dean just barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. Given his father, the Marine, he's aware of at least some of what went on there. "For a supposed Secret Service agent, you don't seem to know who's where. Do you at least know there's Marines there?"

"I got an internship with the Treasury Department when I was nineteen. Two of the people I worked under were with the Secret Service, and I decided to go that direction. We don't just protect the President," Claudia said. "Which a supposed FBI agent would know."

She knew there were Marines there, because one of them happened to be Pete's ex-wife.

"If I were using a fake badge to get the cops to share info, I would have probably gone with DEA since the bodies are all drained of certain catalytic enzymes which points to a more pharmaceutical cause. But then, I got sent out here looking for boogeymen or something."

Dean maintains a poker face, heart sinking. "Are you telling me you've never made comments at FBI--or any other agency--agents about their real jobs being something that would get them out of your way?"

Yep, definitely should have turned down this job.

"I work with a lot of agencies," Claudia said. "This particular case got to my boss from the CDC. But, no, I don't make it a habit of telling people to get out of my way unless lives are on the line. Also, you might have noticed that all of the deceased are male."

Which was why Steve wasn't with her. Artie had decided that she would be safer acting alone instead of potentially dangling a target. On the other hand, having a guy who might attract the attentions of the killer wasn't a horrible thing.

"Look, we both want these deaths to stop and having more eyes isn't always a bad thing. I could care less who gets the collar."

"I have noticed actually," Dean says, finding the room he'd been directed to and walking in. Good, looks like it's one of the ones used for questioning of the friendlier sort. This room works.

He's quick to snag one of the seats on the side of the table he's rather be on, leaving either the other one on his side or the single chair across from him for her.

Claudia took the seat across from Agent Nosebleeds and smiled slightly. "So, what makes you the right person for this case?"

She wasn't the best at questioning people, but this guy wasn't quite what he was trying to be seen as. Pot. Kettle. Someone had to give, and she really didn't want a possible FBI agent getting whammied by whatever was draining the life out of those guys.

"I assume you're here because you saw what came down the wire. It hit assorted 'something's really not right here and may be the sort of thing I handle' bells. Cue me being here," Dean says a moment before the door opens so the cop from earlier could deposit a box full of files on the table.

At which point, Dean stops talking to pull it towards himself as the cop left, closing the door behind himself. Time to stop talking before he potentially says the wrong thing and start looking up details.

"More like the ME on the case went to school with the CDC contact and when she looked into things it was something my department usually handles. Since the majority of the victims are college aged, I can more easily blend in," she said, as she surreptitiously took a photo of the guy across from her to send to Artie to verify.

She wanted to watch the guy for a bit, see how he went about things. There were already a couple of leads she wanted to chase down, but she needed to know he wasn't going to try to follow the moment her back was turned.

"Mmm," Dean says, not really listening as he scanned through the files, looking for anything that may be in common besides all the victims being men. ...Such as they were all last seen at various parties before disappearing. He notes down names; both of the dead men and of people to talk to.

It takes him a couple of hours all told before shoving the files back into their box. "Well, that was fun. Plenty of people to talk to, starting with the ME you mentioned."

Then it'll be time to see if any of their friends or families noticed anything out of the ordinary. "You coming along, or do I get to work without you breathing down my neck?"

Claudia snorted a laugh at that, her eyes on her phone as she scanned through the files Artie had forwarded, now glad she'd followed her instincts. Which also made her look at him, as he sat back.

"You certainly have an interesting jacket, Special Agent Morrisey. I think I'll tag along and see if I can pick up some pointers."

"Great," he says unenthusiastically. Just what he needs. Some clueless Secret Service person following him around and getting in the way. "I don't suppose you're planning to buy me dinner first, since you seem determined to ride my ass?"

He may have just effectively stolen that from one Jo Harvelle.

"I could always pull out the handcuffs and make this a lot more fun for both of us," Claudia said. But she smirked, eyes twinkling with devilish amusement.

"You're not my usual partner, but the suspicious deaths do tend to end after you show up."

Dean freezes before slowly sitting back in his chair to give her a level look. "They do, do they?"

He is so turning down the next case thrown his way by another hunter. Assuming he manages to get out of here without getting arrested.

"We've been here for hours. If I wanted to have you arrested, you'd be in holding already," Claudia said, trying not to sigh at the lack of foresight. "I'm only here for what's killing those men. Well, and keeping from getting killed in the kind of crossfire that follows you and your brother around would be nice."

She pinches her nose for a moment, trying not to get annoyed. "I think the best way to avoid getting into each other's way is to work this one together."

Can she really blame him for being paranoid, given the things in his file blamed on him that weren't actually him? Such as a certain shapeshifter in St. Louis.

"For some reason, the prospect of Secret Service following me around doesn't really do anything for me," he says levelly. "There's nasty shit out there--which, if I told you about them--you wouldn't believe me about being real. My brother and I are just two of the people who put a stop to things."

"You'd be surprised," Claudia said. "I've seen a lot of things people don't usually think is real."

She met his gaze, coolly, not wanting him to rabbit on her.

"Planning to do some 'you show me yours, and I'll show you mine'?" Dean asks with eyebrows raised.

Damn, she's figured out his plan. He very much wants to high tail it out.

She snorted a little. "Trust me, this is one of those things that you don't really believe until it nearly kills you," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Sadly, I don't have any pictures of my brother before the compass incident to go with the ones from now, and even if I did, it's not exactly proof that he spent twelve years in a temporal-spatial bubble. The other stuff? Not really at liberty to say."