A/N: As I was nearing my 50th fanfic I wanted to make it special, so why not make it my first Superwholock! I had quite a bit of fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy. Sidenote: brief mentions of Johnlock, Destiel and 11xRiver at the end.

Disclaimer: Not me, Kripke and Moffat (I don't know why I thought that was going to be longer)

For the Bees

It was a warm summer day. The sky blue, the clouds white and fluffy, a gentle breeze circulating, and golden rays of sunlight stretched down from the sun. The vast garden was laden with rich, vibrant flowers perfuming the air with various scents. A slight buzz was in the air as three men sat near a honeysuckle tree.

"They truly are a wonder of God's creation."

"They do exhibit intricate social patterns that are fascinating to see take place."

"Hell of a lot better than wasps."

Castiel sat up a bit straighter and watched as a bee landed on a nearby peony. 'To imagine the kind of life that creature lives. Toiling away for the good of the colony and the queen all for the reward of sweet nectar. Living a short existence."

Sherlock passively glanced over at the worker bee as it nudged its way through the peony's heavily fragranced, fuchsia colored petals. "At least the female Apis mellifera. The male drones are little more than sperm donors to keep the hive alive."

The Doctor stretched out under the shade of the honeysuckle tree, watching the clouds pass through the dancing branches. "Wasps are mean buggers. If a bee stings you, it's the only time. Well, I guess that only applies to honey bees. Wood bees can sting more than once, well, technically they bite. But the point is that these little guys are better. And they make honey. Nothing's wrong with honey."

"You have a point," said Castiel. "They do make some excellent honey. It's one of the few things I have let myself indulge in since my prolonged term here on earth."

The Doctor sat up and clapped Castiel on the back. "Right you are there Trench coat!"

"I've never had any," mentioned Sherlock as he watched the bee pass another on its way to a rose bush.

"What," exclaimed the Doctor. "You must have at some point in time. They are your bees."

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders and plucked a black eyed Susan from the ground staring at it intently. "I would rather watch the bees than eat the fruits of their labor. I've never had much interest in those kinds of sweets, but my brother has stopped by and taken some of the jars I keep in the kitchen cupboard. If I could just have the bees without the honey I would still be okay, but I don't have a say in the matter."

"Trust me Cheekbones you should try it."

"It is excellent on biscuits," offered Castiel.

The Doctor made a face. "On biscuits? That's what all the jammy goodness is there for. No honey required."

Castiel tilted his head. "Jam? Sam did mention that some people put jelly or jam on their biscuits, but it is more traditionally consumed with butter or honey. Or something Dean called apple butter that has apples, but no butter."

"Butter shortbreads are good too, but they just don't rank well against Jammie Dodgers."

"Jammie Dodgers, what are those?"

"A shortcake biscuit with a raspberry filling," explained Sherlock as he moved out of the sun's glare and pulled out his phone.

The Doctor reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and produced a round cookie with a red heart center. "This is a Jammie Dodger."

Castiel accepted the cookie and looked at it from all kinds of angles. "But it's a cookie. This is nothing like the biscuits Dean, Sam and I had at the place that served fried poultry."

"Oh, you've been talking about American biscuits haven't you," said the Doctor, "I tried those three faces ago, though they didn't give me honey."

A bee buzzed close by Castiel's head. "That's a shame. These little fellows work hard to produce it. I wonder if they ever mind that humans take it for their own consumption."

"If we never took it why would they ever feel the need to produce more? It's a balance system: someone takes the honey, they pollenate the flowers or flowering blooms on other plants. Farmers and gardeners rely heavily on bees to help their harvest produce large yields. Hence all of these flowers." Sherlock gestured over at the cluster of violets next to him.

"Fascinating," remarked Castiel as he nibbled on the Jammie Dodger.

Sherlock nodded. "I suppose so, but you should see my work on the distinctive differences of two hundred and forty types of tobacco ashes."

"Blimey, that's a lot," said the Doctor.

"Indeed."

Castiel heard a more incessant buzzing sound and turned his head to see what was going on. Almost right in his vision was a smaller bee, buzzing happily around him. "Oh, hello there." The bee zig zagged from the left and right before zooming around his head and landing on a peony behind him. He watched as the creature hovered around the flower before landing on it, flexing its wings as it adjusted on its perch. He turned around and looked back at the Doctor and Sherlock. "What I find so fascinating is that the average angel wouldn't be able to look at this simple bee and understand what a great role it plays. In most respects, the average angel wouldn't even be able to look a human and understand they could play any role." He turned and looked back at the yellow and black striped insect. "But these creatures play a role in this little garden, keeping the flowers blooming. Just a simple life, but none lacking in any importance."

"So very true. In all my years of travel I have never come across someone or something that wasn't important," added the Doctor.

"An interesting theory of course, but I just prefer to sit and observe their work," expressed Sherlock.

The Doctor and Castiel looked at the taller man as he put his hand together in a peak and sat still. The Doctor laid down back in the grass and gazed at the sky. Castiel sat down next to the flowers and watched the bees as they worked.

-o-O-o-

"Are they still out there," asked John as he came back with more beer.

River took one and opened it. "Yes."

"How can they talk that long about bees," asked Dean bewildered.

"I have no idea. I don't even see what's all that interesting about them in the first place," added River.

John sat down on the porch step in between the two. "But we somehow manage to love them."

Dean smiled as he brought his beer to his lips. "That we do."