Sherlock hugged the walls of the warehouse, hiding behind boxes, crates, and other assorted objects. He peered in between a jug of blue antifreeze and a lamp shade. Two demons had knives at Dean's and Cas' throats and Sam was talking to a midget who wasn't even half his size. He guessed the trench coat man was Cas the Angel, since he was one of the hostages. Sherlock gazed upward at a second floor of metal grating, following the end to a set of stairs. While he was silently making his way over and up, he heard conversation.

"Maybe you didn't hear me correctly," the midget, the man who must have been The Trout, said. "You can be Lucifer's vessel just for a couple of hours, or these people can be dead for all of eternity because of you. You wouldn't want your big brother to go to Hell again, would you? Chopped up again and again and again..."

Sherlock ascended the stairs and looked over the edge at the group. Just three demons.

"I don't even see Lucifer," Sam said.

"He's not here yet," The Trout replied.

If Sherlock could throw the water evenly, the demons would burn, giving Dean and Cas enough time to get out of reach. He had to time it right. Very carefully, Sherlock, he thought to himself. One mistake and we all die. He gulped. Sherlock uncapped the jug and then sloshed water out, going from side to side like a sprinkler. The H2O hit all three demons.

Dean spun around, driving a knife into the demon's head. It collapsed onto the ground with orange flickering light. Cas almost did the same, putting two fingers to the demon's head and light emanating from its eyes and mouth. Sam tossed salt on The Trout, who screamed in agony until Dean threw the knife into The Trout's eye. It was over all in seven seconds.

"Jolly good show," Sherlock commented. "You'd all be dead if it wouldn't have been for me."

"No shit, Sherlock," Cas stated. He turned to Dean. "Did I use that right?"

"Yep," Dean smiled. "Wait, how'd you know he's Sherlock?"

"A lot of angels talk about him."

"Ah," Dean nodded.

By this time, Sherlock had gotten back down to the group. "So this is Casserole."

"Castiel," they said in unison.

"You're an angel?" Sherlock asked.

"That's right," Cas replied.

"What can you do? I mean, I'd like to ask a favor of you." He paused. "It's about Moriarty's network. I need to disband it. Do you have any information on it, and if so, could you send me there?"

"Yes." Cas pulled a notepad and pencil out of his pocket and began writing stuff down. Dean didn't complain because he wanted Sherlock gone as quick as possible. Cas ripped off a sheet and handed it to the detective.

"Thank you very much. Goodbye, gentlemen," Sherlock said, Cas putting two fingers to Sherlock's head and sending him over to the first place on the list.

Dean sighed with relief. "I thought he'd never leave."

"I kinda miss him," Sam said.

"Don't tell me you're a fangirl," Dean complained.

"I'm not a fangirl. He was the first intelligent person I've spoken to in a long time."

"What about me?"

"Eh."

Cas interrupted, "What's a fangirl?"

The Winchester brothers exchanged worried glances.

"We'll tell you when you're older," Dean said.

The three exited the warehouse, glad to be alive.

Sherlock strolled down a dark street in Russia until he realized, "MY SUITCASE!"

"Look at all the money in his suitcase!" Dean beamed at a large pile of 100's.

The End