A/N: Hello, dear ones! I apologize so very, very much for the long delay, but I was at church camp as a counselor all of last week. Needless to say, I didn't get much writing done. Legion stayed home, but he couldn't figure out how to use the computer.

Legion: COMPUTER DOESN'T LIKE US. WE WANTED TO WRITE. *ears droop & fangs poke out*

I know, baby, but we have something for you now! I know that this chapter is super short, but I thought that you all might like to have something short rather than nothing at all. Enjoy & feel free to let me know what you all think!

~ Angel

"And why would that be?"

"Because I say so."

At the unexpected voice, both of the Winchesters whipped their heads around. While Sam kept his gun trained on the curly-haired man by the window, Dean smoothly switched his aim to the short blonde holding his own gun behind them.

"Keep an eye on the tall one, Sam," Dean ordered gruffly. From the corner of his eye, he saw his younger brother tighten his jaw and give a short nod of acknowledgement, flicking his eyes back to the violinist. "Cas, is there any way you can tell us if this one's possessed?" he asked, eyeing the shorter man. He was blonde, with much lighter hair than Dean, and oh man, was he short! 'Is he seriously wearing a towel?' the hunter thought, raising an eyebrow as the man began to speak.

"Possessed? Wait -."

Ignoring the blonde's incredulous splutter, Castiel turned to his friend seriously. "I told you, Dean, that the other presence is too overpowering to know for sure. It masks the energy of any lesser demons."

"Demons." Towel-guy - as Dean had begun to refer to him in his mind - glanced between the three of them, ignoring his companion's call of "John." Towel-guy, apparently called John, raised the hand not holding his pistol and said, "Look. I have - no idea who you are or what you're doing here, but if you will kindly put down your guns and stop threatening my friend, I'm sure that we can figure something out." He sounded amiable enough, but there was something, a glint in his eye that rubbed Dean the wrong way. The guy, even if he was ridiculously short and only wearing a towel, was dangerous.

Flicking his eyes towards John, Sam seemed to come to the same conclusion. He glanced at his brother. "Uh-huh. And if we don't?" the younger Winchester challenged.

John sighed inwardly.

From the moment he'd turned the corner, the soldier in him had recognized the threat the three strangers posed to both him and Sherlock. Nevertheless, he'd held out the faint hope that everything could be sorted without violence. However, it didn't seem to be that simple.

'Why does everything involving Sherlock have to be so bloody complicated?'

A/N: So? What'd you think, peoples? I hope you liked it, & I apologize once again for the length, or lack thereof. I promise to have more up soon. Thanks for sticking with me, & please hit that blue button. Reviews make me happy. =)

Legion: REVIEW. WE LIKE REVIEWS. THEY FEED US. *smiles sharply*

~ Angel