Dean and Sam arrived at the old looking house and stood outside nervously. It was their first time solving a crime in another country. Usually, there would be hunters in the area to take care of it, but the two closest ones had been killed, and they were friends of Bobby's. So obviously, Dean and Sam were sent here to… Take care of it.
A series of murders in the UK, the bodies completely drained of blood, and then left in a serial-killer fashion. It was baffling the local police, obviously, since it was a crime of a… supernatural nature.
"Im kind of freaked out about this case," Sam frowned. Dean just nodded, "I mean, if we get caught… theres no one to help us. Its us alone out here."
"And we can't act as feds since we're in another country. So we have no cover," Dean rolled his eyes, "This job is whack, Sammy. Bobby's being a douche even assigning it to us."
Sam grimaced but said nothing. They watched carefully from behind the 'do not cross' yellow tape as the bodies were brought out, covered in grey sheets. Five people, at least two of them were just kids. Dean frowned deeply. He hated when kids were targeted. Nearby, a tired looking, grey haired man was studying the bodies and glancing around.
A cab pulled up. Stupid looking cab, Dean hated everything about this country. But as it did, the expressions on the people working the cases changed. Dean raised an eyebrow as two men stepped out of the cab. One was nervous looking and blonde, with flitting eyes and a high strung sort of nature. The other was tall, pale, with curling black hair. His head was held high and he walked with a sureness. Overall, they probably weren't anything special. But the atmosphere changed with their arrival. They must have been important. And this made Dean and Sam need to move closer.
"What do we have, Lestrade?" The black haired man said, stepping around the tape. Dean and Sam eavesdropped silently, and Dean couldn't help notice that the blonde one was watching his partner very intently.
"Same as before. Blood completely drained, the bodies set up at the dinner table like nothing was wrong," The gray haired on, Lestrade, said. His face was highly disturbed, "I can't explain this, Sherlock. The attacks are random, obviously seems like a serial killer. But I can't explain how the blood is drained."
Sherlock, Dean assumed, stepped past Lestrade and tossed the sheets off of the bodies and studied them. Dean raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sam. That was abnormal, even for a cop. The blonde one was stepped back, but rolled his eyes at his companion.
Sherlock was talking under his breath, seemingly to himself, but Sam and Dean couldn't hear him. Finally he stood up and re-covered the bodies, stepping away. He turned to Lestrade.
"Very well then. We'll look at the scene, in a moment." He stepped back and Lestrade nodded, heading inside with a few other men and women. The bodies were packed into a car and taken away. Soon enough, the few people slowly dissolved until Dean and Sam were left alone with Sherlock and his small companion. Dean nudged Sam and they turned to leave…
"Stop." Sherlock said loudly, his eyes on Dean. His friend looked nervously at them as well. But Dean stopped and watched as they approached him.
"Uh, can we help you?" Sam said politely.
"Who are you?" Sherlocks eyes stayed on Dean. They were piercing and powerful, and the way he studied him made Dean swallow hard with recognition.
"Uh, John." Dean said and forced a smile.
"Except you're lying, so do be a good boy and tell the truth."
Sam's eyes widened, "I'm.. I'm Sam. This is Dean."
Dean frowned.
"Much better." He raised a brow, "I am Sherlock Holmes. This is my partner, John Watson."
John faked a smile at them and his eyes returned to Sherlock. Dean frowned. He already didn't like these two. They knew too much.
"Introductions are nice. Now if you don't mind, we need to be going." Dean turned to leave but Sam didn't budge, so he sighed and turned back.
"Look, we just, have some questions for you," John said, speaking for the first time, "Thats all."
"Now, who are you, really?" Sherlock questioned.
"We're just average guys. Heard about the crimes so we came to check it out." Sam offered hopefully.
Sherlock smiled at them and glanced between them for a moment. "No.. No you're lying. I can tell you aren't 'average guys' because when I uncovered the bodies earlier you made no attempt to look away. You're obviously professionals who have dealt with dead bodies before," He tilted his head, "You're american, and you are also brothers, but you're here alone. Your rented car tells me you're here temporarily, but not on vacation, so it must be business."
Deans jaw was probably hanging open. But Sherlock went on.
"Neither of you have cell phones on you, which means you are probably in a line of anonymous work. Possible american federal agents, but that wouldn't explain how you are brothers working together, which means you are probably privately working cases." He smiled, "Am I right?"
Dean couldn't say anything. Luckily, Sam didn't seem to have that problem. His brother laughed, amazed. "You really are Sherlock Holmes. I've heard about you before, your amazing analysis skills." He stepped forward, "Its a pleasure to meet you."
Sherlock studied Sam momentarily, "I'd say the pleasure is likewise, however, I've seen your faces before. The… Winchester brothers, is it?"
Sams smile vanished.
"I've seen your faces on the news. American serial killers, correct? Luckily I'm not stupid enough to believe in that facade. I've had the… pleasure of working with Hunters before. I recognized you the second I saw you."
Neither Dean nor Sam really knew what to say. And John was now staring at his partner in utter amazement and confusion.
"Um… Hunters…?" John frowned.
Sherlock ignored him, "I knew there would be someone around. These serial killings are clearly inhuman."
"So… you're not going to like… call the cops on us?" Sam muttered.
"Please, no, it would be a pleasure to work with you."
Sam smiled but Dean felt anger rise into him.
"Sorry, but who the fuck do you think you are? Some high-and-mighty british ass-hole who just jumps in? Sorry, but we don't need to work with you." Dean spat angrily. There was everything about this guy that pissed Dean off. And the worst part was he didn't really know why.
Sherlock tilted his head again and looked him up and down. That head-tilt, the way he seemed to be looking right through him… It sent shivers up and down Deans spine. Especially those stupid eyes!
"Dean Winchester… Lets see here. Bags under your eyes, new-found wrinkles… I'd say you're a very tired man. Probably because you can't seem to be able to look at yourself in the mirror without feeling highly ashamed. Your breath smells fondly of alchohol, yet you don't seem to affected. You're familiar with it? Possible alchoholism…" Deans face went pale, "So, why are you suddenly hating yourself? Lets see. You recently… lost someone very close to you, yes? You'd rather not talk about it, but the guilt is eating you up inside. You've been looking at me with some weird recognition, so I can only assume that I remind you of them. Which would also explain your odd lashing out at me. Shall I go on?"
Sam gulped and looked at his brother carefully, a knowing look lingering there. Yeah, he was spot on. But the fact this stranger could just talk about… Cas like he was nothing, made Dean even more angry.
Since Dean didn't reply, Sherlock took his answer to be 'yes.'
"I think its safe to also say that your lost partner was someone you had romantic interest in." Dean went bright red and Sam raised two thick eyebrows, "Ah, yes. And based on that reaction I'd say your lost partner was a… man? Odd, since you don't strike me as gay. I'd say it was probably a one time thing, as you aren't prone homo-erotic tendencies."
Dean huffed, feeling a little more then horrified. Next to him, Sam stifled a laugh.
"I think that's enough," John said, his hand trailing down Sherlocks arm slowly. Dean watched and his eyes narrowed.
"Oh, yes. We do have a crime scene to look at." Sherlock turned slightly, "I suppose I'll leave it to you two now if you really would like to join us."
"Wait," Dean said before Sam could reply, "I think we'll probably catch up with you later." The red faded from his face and a small smile replaced it. This obviously intrigued Sherlock.
"Oh, good…" He glanced, "Is there something you have to say?"
"No, not at all." Dean was grinning now.
Sherlock turned and gave him his full attention, "No, there is something. What?"
Dean laughed, "I just think its funny that you were analyzing me on my… 'homo-erotic tendencies when its obvious here that you and your 'partners' relationship is a little bit less then professional."
John looked away awkwardly and some colour came into Sherlocks face. "I don't know what you mean."
"Please," Dean scoffed, "You're, uh, partner hasn't taken his eyes off you for more then four seconds since you guys arrived. I'd say that's grounds that he has a crush on you… Yet you haven't looked at him once. So… Did you two have a lovers fight?" Sherlock was the one to look away now. An awkward silence crept around and was broken by Deans laugh, "Oh shit, you guys are totally sleeping together."
Both John and Sherlock were totally red now and Dean couldn't stop laughing. Sam pulled out a notepad from his pockets and wrote something down, handing it to Sherlock.
"Thats the number to our hotel. Keep in touch."
And with that, the Winchester brothers walked away and back to their rented car, Dean chuckling all the way there.
"That was unprofessional," Sam said, sitting down in the drivers seat.
Dean smiled and started the car, "Oh yeah. But I can already tell this is going to be fun."