"What a beautiful bride! John's a lucky man," John's friend complimented Mary as he shook her hand. Most of the guests were already inside the reception hall nabbing up plates of food.

"Thank you so much," Mary replied, smiling. John shuffled the rest of the people through without much conversation. "What's the hurry, John?" Mary asked her husband.

"I want to eat, too," John whispered to his new wife. Mary laughed and led the way into their reception.

"Hey, check it out," Dean whispered to Sam. Sam followed Dean's eye line only to rest on the beautiful brunette bridesmaid.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, no. This is John's wedding."

"So?"

"We owe him."

"How do we owe him? I thought we canceled that debt."

Sam sighed. "Can't you just be respectful for once?"

Dean glared at him. "For once? I am…" Sam gave Dean a sarcastic glare. "…Respectful…" Dean mumbled as he trudged away from his brother.

"Don't you dare," Sam called after him.

Dean mocked Sam's words on his face and approached the dessert table. He let out a relieved laugh.

"Pie!" Dean felt his mouth water as he grabbed a plate and a slice of each pie; lemon meringue, apple, and cherry.

Dean turned to grab a fork when he saw the brunette he had been eyeing up earlier reaching for the forks, her eyes on the pie. Dean raced to greet this opportunity and quickly put his hand down on the forks, 'accidentally' grabbing her hand.

"Oops, I'm sorry," Dean apologized with a smile. "I wasn't paying attention."

"It's fine," the brunette smiled back and continued getting a piece of apple pie.

Dean cleared his throat. "So are you a friend of Mary's?"

"Yes," she answered.

"She's a sweet girl. John's a lucky guy. I'm Dean," he held out his hand to shake hers.

"Janine," she replied, and shook his hand.

"Whoa," Dean exclaimed. Janine looked curiously at him. Dean hid the pain in his hand with a light smile. "Strong grip."

Janine chuckled and motioned towards the table they were seated at. "Shall we?"

"Of course," Dean extended his hand and stepped back to let her go first. As they walked, he took the opportunity to check out her lower curves.

"Dean!" Sam came up from behind and nudged Dean. "Come on, man."

"What?" Dean defended. "I'm being respectful! Besides, a British girl? I've never charmed a Brit before. Don't be mad that I beat you to her."

Sam sighed. "Fine! Just don't…do it here."

"Sam. Gross," Dean tilted his head. "Although...I've always wondered-"

"No," Sam interrupted. "Just don't." Sam pushed Dean to the head table.

"That's a lot of pie to start off with," Janine mentioned to Dean, glancing at his plate. "Aren't you going to have some lunch first?"

"Well, life's short," Dean shrugged. "Might as well skip to the good parts." Dean winked at Janine with a spark in his eyes. She smiled and blushed, looking away from him. "Besides," he continued. "You grabbed the pie first, too."

Janine grinned slowly. "I guess you're right."

Dean chuckled and lifted his glass of wine. "To the good parts of life?"

Janine raised an eyebrow, questioning Dean's cheesy toast, but agreed to raise her glass as well. "To the good parts of life." They bumped drinks and sipped at the white wine.

Sherlock loudly cleared his throat from behind Dean. "You're in my spot." Dean was taken off guard and spilled the wine he was drinking from the fright.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed. Janine tried her best to contain her laughter, but a few snickers escaped her mouth. Dean wiped what he could from his shirt and tie, then stood to face the cause of his embarrassment. "What the hell, Sherlock?"

"Give the man a prize," Sherlock smirked and his eyes blinked to an inky black. Dean's expression melted from anger to fear. Sherlock's eyes returned to their normal ocean blue as quickly as they had been blotted out.

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean sighed and tapped Sam's shoulder without removing his eyes from Sherlock.

"Nope!" Sherlock shrugged dramatically. "Surprise!"

Sam joined Dean's side. "What is it?"

Dean raised his pointer finger to his lips. "We've got company," he said quietly and motioned at Sherlock.

"I am right here, you know," said the demon, snidely.

Sam understood and swallowed hard. "How long have you been in him?"

"The whole dreadful wedding," Sherlock groaned. "Honestly, it was hell. Maybe even worse, and that's saying a lot. You should know, right Dean?"

"Wait," Dean glared at the demon's meat suit and changed the subject. "You stood through the entire wedding and blended in?"

Sherlock grinned. "It normally wouldn't have been so easy. Luckily, it wasn't just me with a distain for social events." Sam slowly touched his fingertips to the demon blade under his jacket.

"So you acted how Sherlock normally acts," Dean flashed a sarcastic smile. "But why wait? Why haven't you drawn attention to yourself? Aren't demons supposed to be all 'Look at me, I'm a powerful demon'?"

"This might be a difficult concept for you to grasp, but I don't actually like to make messes everywhere I go. It's a lot of work and I get a lot of heat from downstairs for it. So, if I can, I do my work quickly and quietly. If it isn't too much to ask, your cooperation would be greatly appreciated."

"Why are you here?" Dean asked the demon. "What do you want?"

"Why am I here?" Sherlock laughed contemptuously. "The Winchesters are here! You two aren't just expensive hookers, you two have a price on your heads. I deliver the Winchester brothers alive and I'm a hero. No more shitty commissions and crossroad deals. I'd be right up there with the big boys."

"Typical selfish demon," said Dean.

"Selfish?" Sherlock seemed genuinely offended. "If I were selfish, I'd be killing your friends one by one until you agreed to come with me. I'm giving you a chance for this to end peacefully, for once. Either you come with me quietly or…well let's stay optimistic and pretend I don't have an 'or'."

"We aren't going anywhere." Sam drew the demon blade and thrust it towards Sherlock's stomach. The demon caught Sam's wrist before the knife made its mark.

"Really, Sam? Trying to act like you so weren't reaching for a weapon? You blew it," Sherlock chuckled menacingly. "And I think we both know I'm a better actor than you."

Sherlock winked at the Winchesters and proceeded to shriek at the top of his lungs. The attention of the entire room shifted towards the front where Sherlock was stumbling backwards, grasping John for stability.

"What on Earth..? Sherlock? What's wrong?" John asked, apprehensively.

"The Americans…!" Sherlock gasped, pointing at the knife still in Sam's hand. "They tried to stab me!"

Sherlock isn't even in control and he's still a manipulative little shit. Find out what happens next in the next chapter! Like 5 years from now! (sarcasm, referring to how long it was since i updated.)

Shout out to all the angry messages I've gotten telling me to update this fic.