"So get this, I was looking around and I think there's a potential case over here."
Dean woke with a loud grunt.
"Sammy, it's Sunday, I'm super hung over,I haven't had my coffee yet, and I swear to god if you take one step closer I will shoot you."
Sam chuckled nervously, generally Dean was joking, but from the look his brother was giving him, he couldn't be sure.
Sam backed out of the room and put on a pot of coffee for Dean.
"Come on Dean, I'm really excited about this case."
"Okay- what's so exciting about this case then?"
"This middle aged guy, who's unemployed, and a bit large."
"So he's a fat, jobless man child."
"Dean!"
"Ooh I'm sorry Sammy, I didn't mean to offend your precious little ears."
Sam rolled his eyes and sighed.
"So anyway, the guy dies on his ten year anniversary, but, judging from the reports from his wife, she's completely unaffected by the whole thing."
Dean took a long sip of coffee, and looked at Sam, unimpressed.
"Sammy this sounds like your basic demon deal, and I'm all up for ganking those sons of bitches as much as the next guy, but why did you wake me up at 6am for a crappy demon case?"
Sam flashed a mischievous grin at dean.
"Because this happened in England."
"England? Why are you worried about England, don't they have the British men of letters taking care of things over there? Besides, we have enough crap to deal with in America, let alone dealing with England."
"But dean, that's why it's interesting, didn't the British men of letters say that they killed the monsters before they attacked people. And you remember that they run a tight ship over there, they wouldn't suddenly go all sloppy joe and let a demon loose."
"Whatever Sammy we're not going to fucking England!"
Sam burst into laughter.
"Oh my god- is this because of your dumb plane thing."
Dean glared at Sam.
"It is not a 'dumb plane thing' Sam, it is a rational fear, you know how many plane crashes there are per year."
"Uhh.. not a lot. Besides, we don't need to take a plane."
"Why not?"
"You have an angel boyfriend Dean, can't he just zap us anywhere we need to go"
Dean sighed.
"First of all, he doesn't 'zap'- he's not buzz freaking lightyear Sammy, he flies, he's an angel he has wings,"
Dean turns away.
Soft, silky wings, he thinks to himself.
Dean slaps his thigh, bringing himself back to reality, he turns and points aggressively at Sam.
"Secondly, Cas is not my boyfriend."
"Give it a rest Dean, you think I haven't noticed, anyone who has seen you two together for five minutes could figure you out. I've been putting up with you two for 9 years now, and the sexual tension is killing me."
Dean rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, well that's great little miss fangirl of the year, I'm looking forward to reading all the fan fiction you've written, but there is nothing going on between me and Castiel!"
Suddenly, Cas appears behind Dean.
"Dammit Cas, will you stop coming up behind me like that!"
Cas cocked his head to the side, losing himself in dean's green eyes.
Dean stared back at him, he could feel himself drowning in Cas' ocean blue eyes, but Sam couldn't know, no one could know, if anyone knew Cas was his weakness, it could be used against him. He didn't want Cas getting hurt.
Sam cleared his throat, snapping Cas and Dean back to reality.
"What was I saying again?"
Sam smiled.
"Oh, just some bullshit about how there's nothing going on between you and Cas."
"Oh yeah, right. There's nothing going on between us, our relationship is-"
"- so you admit that there's a relationship."
"Yes. No! If you would let me finish, you interrupting son of a bitch, I was going to say that our relationship is completely platonic."
"Yeah, sure, hey dean, let me ask you a question; do you make out with all your friends?"
"What the hell are you talking about Sammy?"
"I mean, that's what it looked like you two were doing when I went to your room the other night"
Dean and Cas both blushed heavily.
Cas was slightly relieved, he didn't want anyone using Dean against him, but he also didn't like keeping their relationship a secret. So it was good that Sam knew, he knew Sam would be supportive.
"I'm just shocked."
Sam smiled at them.
"Listen Sammy, I can exp-"
"- I'm shocked that it took you so long to make a move, I mean 9 years of dancing around each other and now you finally do something!"
"I'm so happy for you guys"
Dean and Cas gave each other brief confused looks, but they accepted it, and were just relieved that Sam had a positive reaction, perhaps too positive, but it was good none the less.
"So, Sammy tell me about this case in England."
"Stop talking. Stop breathing. Don't even think."
Sherlock always looked adorable when he was trying to concentrate, with his face all scrunched up, hands on his head. He looked vulnerable, John thought. John liked to think that he did a good job of protecting Sherlock.
Sherlock finally opened his eyes.
"Listen, Sherlock, you've been working on this case for months know, don't you think it's time to move on, I'm worried about you."
Sherlock gave a microscopic smirk, he liked that John worried about him, he didn't want to upset him, but he just had to figure out this murder.
It just made no sense.
The man, relatively large, but that had nothing to with the death, it was clearly a murder, so heart attack was out of the question.
He tried talking to the wife, but she just seemed so indifferent about what had happened.
There was something not natural about the situation.
He yelled and shot at the wall in frustration.
Mrs Hudson's footsteps echoed up the stairs.
"Sherlock! What have you done to my wall, again!"
Sherlock looked at her with his icy blue eyes.
"I'm sorry mrs Hudson, you wouldn't understand, I'm working on an extremely frustrating murder case. Nothing makes any sense, and no offence, but I don't think you could help. It's like there's something unnatural about it."
"Ooh that reminds me of a show I've started watching."
Sherlock stared at her in confusion
"Mrs Hudson, I've just told you about an impossible murder case and you want to talk to me about a television show."
"It's a really good show Sherlock, it's called Supernatural."
"I'm not interested Mrs Hudson."
"It's about these two rather fetching American men, who are brothers, and they go around hunting ghosts and demons and dealing with angels and heaven and hell and lucifer and all sorts!"
"Sounds ridiculous, why would you absorb yourself in a television show based on things that don't exist?"
"Well Sherlock, have an open mind, these things could exist."
"They don't."
"They could, and also there's a romance sub plot."
"Ooh, romance, you really know how to interest me."
Sherlock said sarcastically under his breath. He rolled his eyes.
"If you must continue with banging on about this show, would you please make me a cup of tea Mrs Hudson."
John chimed in.
"A cup of tea for me too please."
Mrs Hudson glared at them.
"I'm not your housekeeper!"
She sighed but went over to the kettle to make the tea anyway.
"So anyway, I think you two will like this romantic subplot; there's this angel fellow, he is also quite strapping, he's got gorgeous blue eyes, who is quite clearly in love with the fetching man with green eyes, who is also in love with him, but neither of them will admit it."
"Oh and let's not forget about the brother, the taller one, he's got to put up with all this sexual tension as well, which makes for quite an entertaining show!"
Mrs Hudson giggled to herself.
John smiled, but then furrowed his brow.
"I'm sorry, why did you think Sherlock and I would like this romantic subplot, again?"
"Well, it applies to you, doesn't it."
John got up rapidly, Sherlock sighed.
John walked up to Mrs Hudson.
"For the last time, if anyone cares, I'm not actually gay. Sherlock and I are not a couple."
"Okay whatever you say, it's none of my business."
Mrs Hudson took a step out of the doorway.
"Oh and Sherlock, clean this mess up!"
Sherlock approached the door, and firmly shut it.
"Will do Mrs Hudson, thanks for the tea." He called out.
He sat on the nearest chair and drummed his hand on the armrest.
"You're in my chair."
John tapped him on the shoulder.
"What?"
"You're in my chair, get out."
John muttered.
Sherlock grinned.
"Well I'm comfortable now, and I'm not going to move."
John smiled.
"Well I'm not sitting in your chair."
"No, absolutely not."
Sherlock shuffled over, while John sat on the chair, with his legs on top of Sherlock's.
Sherlock draped an arm around John.
"I'd be lost without my blogger."