Chapter 18

John had searched for a decent medium for a day and found one by the name of Claudine who had said she can bring souls out of their bodies for a short while. It would be a high price, but she claimed she can deliver. The only problem was that they had to wait two more days before she would stop by the flat.

Two days they had to wait until the psychic would be able to see them. Sherlock had to wait two more days while living in Dean Winchester's body, walking around and wearing those clothes of his. Sherlock had tried to put on one of his own button down shirts but they were too tight on Winchester's body. Dean had tried to wear one of his own shirts but they hung on Sherlock's body in a ridiculous manner, of course if that hunter kept on eating the way he did then it might fit. Sherlock tried not to think too hard on that subject and focused on training Dean to be more like him

They had time to pass while waiting. Sherlock gave Dean a few more lessons on how to play the violin while both hunters quizzed him on proper ways to track down and kill various monsters. Sherlock tried to walk around and copy Dean's mannerisms and the hunter did the same. There were some times when Sherlock had thought he was just watching a home movie of himself. Those few moments only lasted a few seconds before Dean did something moronic.

When they were not teaching each other Dean would go sight-seeing with Sam and promised that he would keep up the performance while they were out and sometimes Sherlock would go with them so Mrs. Hudson wouldn't worry.

There were a few times when Lestrade would call to report about the autopsy of the werewolf and the fact that there were human hearts found in its stomach. The DI brought up the fact that the whole department were in a bit of a fright and they think Sherlock was a bigger freak than before, not that any of that matters.

"We still have six more hours before the psychic shows," Sherlock had said after the three of them returned to the flat from another short sightseeing trip. "Are we ready for another lesson?"

"What do you want to know?" Sam asked as he picked up his laptop.

"Actually I believe it is time for another violin lesson," Sherlock said with a smile and earning a pained expression from Dean. So that is how he looks when idiots annoy him. "You will need to know this. We still have to make our contingency plan in case this fails."

"I know, I know," Dean groaned.

Sherlock had retrieved his violin and sat back down when he heard his phone's ringtone.

"Dean," Sam reminded his brother.

"Hello?" Dean answered the phone. "An amputated foot has been brought to you. That does sound intriguing. I will be there shortly." He hung up. "Gotta skip the lesson, Sherly. You're girlfriend wants to see you, or better yet us."

"It would be best to let her know," Sherlock said as he stood back up. They had planned on telling Molly the truth and now would be a good time. He also wanted to have a good look at the foot.

"You are going to be okay, Sam?" Dean asked as he stood up.

"I can take care of myself," Sam said. "John should be getting off soon and I'll have the company."

It was no surprise to Sherlock that Molly would smile and greet Dean first before offering him a cup of coffee. He had estimated it would take her eleven seconds before she would notice him and he was accurate.

"Who is this?" Molly asked as she gave Sherlock a good long look. She was intrigued with him.

"Molly I know this sounds ridiculous but I am Sherlock," Sherlock answered without missing a beat. "The man who you have mistaken for me is named Dean Winchester. He is not just a character in a series of books."

"That accident that knocked your boyfriend out had an interesting side effect," Dean said. "I came across something similar that hit me with the flood light and when I woke up I looked like this." He pointed both fingers at himself.

"What he is saying is true," Sherlock said and studied her appearance. "You have parted your hair to a different side than you always do." He sniffed. "There is also a new fragrance about you, not too powerful and a bit like a sweet, or perhaps a cake." He sniffed again. "Yes there is a trace of vanilla and it is not perfume. You are either using a new lotion, or a body butter, or scented powder."

"Yeah I noticed that a couple of seconds ago," Dean said and shrugged. "I just know how to keep my mouth shut."

"Damn!" Sherlock knew what to look for but Dean's brain was not as attuned and it was slower than his.

"This," Molly said slowly as she looked back and forth at each of them. "This is not possible."

"You told Johnny that Cas was real," Dean said. "Wasn't there a story about Sam switching bodies with a kid named Gary?"

"You two rehearsed this," Molly said.

"Why would I participate in something so juvenile?" Sherlock asked.

"Let me give you the lowdown," Dean said as he walked around the room. "We are not sure if we can get back to our own bodies. We have a medium coming to Sherly's pad and if she can't fix this then we are stuck and that means he will be going back with my brother to be a hunter and I gotta stay here and be a consulting detective and pretend to be all British, no offense and I just think it is only fair to tell you. You're a nice girl and very easy on the eyes and if you are flirting with me you would be flirting with me not Sherlock."

"You were wearing a light pink blouse under your lab coat when I first met you," Sherlock said. Molly was speechless when Dean told her the truth. "You also had on lipstick that was a coral hue and you had an iPod with you. It wasn't because you listening to your music while you worked. This iPod was new at the time because you had just bought it after your old one was stolen out of your locker and even though you changed the lock you didn't want to leave anything so you kept your purse, your mobile and your iPod with you. They did catch the thief and it turned out that doctor Carson from cardiology had sticky fingers. It was a pity those fingers were also butterfingers and he broke it."

"To be fair Butterfingers tend to make your fingers sticky," Dean said with a smile that faded when Sherlock and Molly gave him a look. "I'm shutting up now."

"You knew I had my iPod stolen," Molly said when she turned back to him. "You even found out it was Doctor Carson two hours later." She blinked. "Sherlock that really is you in there."

"Hi I'm Dean," Dean held out his hand for her. "I know this is kind of strange shaking my hand like this."

"Oh no this is feels nice," Molly said and shook his hand while he nodded at Sherlock with a smug grin on his face.

"Now that we have gotten that detail out of the way where is the foot?" Sherlock asked.

"Right here it is," Molly wielded out the tub with the mangled foot. There were gaping holes in it, bullet wounds from a shotgun. "You can see why it had to be cut off."

"Ithaca 37," Sherlock and Dean said at the same time when they looked at it.

"You both know?" Molly asked in an impressed tone.

"He's the genius," Dean said as he pointed at Sherlock. "I just know from experience. How familiar are you with those books."

"I've read some," Molly said and looked down. "I've actually read them all and a few twice. Castiel has come back to you?"

"Yep."

Sherlock ignored them as he took a scalpel and sliced off some of the flesh around the wound and placed it on a slide.

"Dude that's gross," Dean said as he cringed and backed away.

"If I wasn't convinced before I am now," Molly said as she played with her hair. "You have examined similar things."

"Not like Bill Nye over here and Sam did most of the examinations."

"Could you please not talk?" Sherlock asked as he continued to examine the flesh. He marveled at the singe marks and the tears.

"We're talking so tough," Dean said. He did not react to Sherlock's groan. "Are you going to be all right with this? I know I only look like him and can think like him sometimes, but I would like to start on the right foot to knowing you."

"Do you want to go out with me?" Molly asked. She sounded a bit smitten.

"Maybe down the road, but I want to get to know you and become friends. I'm not into all experiments that he does-"

"I will ask you to perform some for me," Sherlock said.

"Looks like we will be seeing more of each other," Dean said. "You don't mind us talking and getting to know each other?"

"Of course this has to be a trying time for the both of you."

"It's not like you two won't ever see each other again. There is e-mail and you can call each other, visit each other and there is this thing called Skype where you can talk and see each other."

"Dull," Sherlock said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Video chats are dull. Looking at each other's faces via a camera and speaker to talk about how the day went, so very dull." He heard footsteps before he felt a hand smack him across the back of his head. He looked up to see his own eyes glaring back at him.

"Compassion jack ass, learn it."

"You didn't have to hit him," Molly said softly.

"I was actually hitting myself," Dean said. "Sorry he's kind of a dick."

"Ugh," Sherlock groaned. "Molly have this prepared for transport. We are going back to the flat."

Sherlock refused to speak to Dean during the cab ride home and almost wished they had taken different cabs. As soon as they returned to the flat he put the main foot in the freezer and took the samples and put them under the microscope to continue his research. He ignored Dean and the others and knew he was complaining about him.

"Sherly," Dean called out to him. Sherlock chose to ignore him. He had enough of the boorish man. Only when he heard the music from his violin did he look up. Dean was standing in the entrance with his violin in one hand and bow in the other.

"What do you think you are doing?" Sherlock growled.

"You wanted to give me a lesson right?"

"Fine," Sherlock said in a defeated tone. He took the violin from Dean. "Now focus on what I do. Use all of your senses to listen and feel." He played a few chords slowly before handing it to Dean who copied him. Sherlock played a few more that were a bit more complicated and slightly faster and Dean matched perfectly. At the end of the lesson he played a short sonata and watched in a combination of fascination and satisfaction that Dean was able to play it.

There was a small applause from John and Sam, even Castiel had clapped.

"I still don't think I will get the hang of it," Dean said. "You keep me trying to listen to classical music and I can't really picture it in my head."

"I am having trouble picturing the music in your head," Sherlock said as he watched Dean draw the bow across the strings. "I still need to use my books." He placed his hand against his mouth and tried to think.

"It's just not me," Dean said as he played, well he was playing something.

"Dude," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked as he continued to play.

"As I rose above the noise and confusion," John sang under breath. "Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion."

Sherlock opened his eyes as his hand dropped. He watched in amazement as Dean continued to play that Kansas song.

"How am I doing this?" Dean asked. He didn't stop for a second.

"You envisioned the music," Sherlock said with a grin. "Of course for you it would be something you listen to on daily basis, but you see the notes in your head."

"Wow," Dean said once he had finished and once again everyone clapped. Even Sherlock applauded him.

"Beautiful as always, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said from the entrance to the flat. "You have another guest. One of these days you or John will answer the door yourselves."

The guest turned out to be a woman in her early forties. She had dark hair with a few streaks of silver and a slight bit of extra weight. She dressed like she worked in a bank except for the necklace made of large wooden beads and the large silver earrings in the representation of the mother, daughter and grandmother.

"Hello I'm Claudine," the woman said. "A John Watson has called for me."

"Yes I did," John said and pointed to his chair. "Please have a seat. Thank you Mrs. Hudson."

"If you need anything," Mrs. Hudson said as she walked away.

"I do need my laundry taken care of," Dean said as he put the violin away.

"I am not your housekeeper," Mrs. Hudson said as she made her way down the stairs. "How many times do I have to remind you?"

"I would like to get the number of the interior decorator," Claudine said as she glanced around. "I do need to redecorate my home."

"We'll swap wall paper tips and lessons on fen shui later," Sam said. "You are able to guide those to astral projection?"

"I am the one," Claudine said. "I brought the ingredients necessary for this task. Now I just need a hot cup of tea."

"I don't remember Pam using tea," Dean said and glanced at Sam.

"It's not for the soul walk," Claudine said as she pulled several vials from her large purse. "It's for me."

"I'll go put a pot on," John volunteered. "Anyone else would like a cup?" He watched as Dean put his hand up.

"I'll have a cup," Sherlock said as he watched the strange medium mixed together the ingredients in mortar that she had also kept in her purse. He wondered what else she had in there when she brought out two small glasses.

"Kinda like Mary Poppins," Dean said.

"I haven't gotten that before," Claudine said. "I heard about the little problem you two have and I hope this works. Are you certain you want me and not a witch? I do know of a few witches and I'm pretty sure they have a better chance at fixing this than me."

"Not sure if a witch can help," Dean said. "Not if her supplies had been stolen."

"Then you ask a witch who hadn't been robbed. In fact my f-"

"I am not paying a witch," John said. "Not quite yet. You are here and you said you can fix it."

"I'll give it my best," Claudine said. "My methods are most likely different from this Pam. Now come here, handsome." Dean took a step towards her. "Not you."

"Oh you want my body," Dean said and placed his hand on Sherlock. "Take a clue buddy."

"Not him either," Claudine said. She pointed at Castiel before she beckoned him over to her. "Do you talk?"

"I do," Castiel said as he approached her.

"I love the talk dark and quiet type." She poured equal amounts of the mixture into the cups. "Now give these to the two." She handed the angel the cups and as soon as he turned around she pinched his bum, earning a snicker from both Sam and Dean.

"I refuse to drink this," Sherlock said when he was handed his cup.

"Drink it before I cram it down your throat," Dean said before he gulped down his. He laid his body down on the floor and closed his eyes. "The stuff didn't do this. It's just more comfortable this way."

Sherlock gulped down the mixture. It was a bitter vile drink with a clinging after taste. He stretched out on the floor next to Dean and closed his eyes, hoping that it might work.

"Now we will go on a journey," Claudine said. "Think of something that keeps you calm." That was easy for Sherlock. All he needed was a good cigarette and his violin. "Now remember your last dream and walk backwards from that. Count down from 10." She spoke some words in Latin. "Now you walk."

"This is absurd," Sherlock said as he sat up. He blinked at the sound of his own voice coming from his mouth.

"You want to think again?" Dean asked as he sat up. He was sitting up in the middle of Sherlock's body.

"It worked?" Sherlock asked and stared down to see Dean's sleeping form. "John it worked."

"They can't hear or see us," Dean said. "Except for Cas. Cas you can communicate with us?"

"I see you both," Cas said.

"Handsome and able to see and hear spirits," Claudine said in an impressed tone. "What do you do for fun?"

"I like bees and playing board games," Cas answered.

"Would you look at this," Dean said. He smiled and shook his head as he pointed at the angel and the medium. "She's hitting on the world's oldest virgin and he doesn't even know it."

"I am aware of the flirtation, Dean," Cas told him.

"And do you like it?" Claudine purred.

"I think I do," Cas said earning another chuckle from Dean.

"Can we get on with it?" Sherlock asked.

"Can we get on with it?" Sam had repeated. "Cas, just tell us when they climb back into their bodies."

"Come on Sherly," Dean said as he stood up and walked over to him.

Sherlock walked over to his own body. He positioned himself and sat down until he was lying perfectly aligned with his own flesh. He willed his ghostly fingers to hold on tight.

"They are ready," Cas said.

"Now it is time to return," Claudine said. She chanted some more in Latin.

Sherlock had felt like he had almost nestles when something pulled him and he flew out. The sensation ended and he opened his eyes. Did that mean it worked?

"Son of a bitch," Dean said. It had to have been Dean, but that was Sherlock's voice.