"If you would think tell me. Then I'll deduce where you came from. By the state of her clothes I would say a business person. Salary I would say about 100£ to 300£ very high up in rank. There's sand on your clothes which means you recently visited a beach. I say that you meeting someone. Probably shorter than you because every so often you putting your hand on your neck. British, loves scotch, and just so happened to be a demon I presume."
"Not bad...Then you will probably deduce that I am a dead person when I go back."
"What you said that the person she met was British and shorter?"
"I think I made that clear." Sherlock said glaring up at Dean.
"Crowley...Crowley is dead. We seen him burn up in flames..."
Dean stopped short and was starting at the door. Mrs. Hudson was standing in the doorway.
She was glaring right at Sherlock. "What the bloody hell did you do to my floor? A satanic ritual? This is going on your rent, young man."
She marched back downstairs in anger and slammed her flat's door. "What was that about?" Sam asked.
"Just ignore her, Sam."
"He's alive. He wants to get what was his."
"What would that be?"
"Not likely...The place is heavy guarded." I said.
"You don't know us demons really well. Oh in fact he's hear right now."
Two things ended up happening. A man in a trenchcoat that I think Dean said his name was Cas and a short man appeared in the room.
The short person was wearing a black coat that went down to his feet. Everything he wore was a shade of black. He was holding a glass of scotch in his hands when he appeared. His thick British accent said "Hello boys."
"Who are they?" Crowley pointed at Sherlock and I.
Sherlock got up and said "Sh..."
"Never mind. I do know you. Your Sherlock Holmes and the doctor. I seen your work. I got to say that I am pretty impressed."
"Thank you. I am pretty sure that you didn't come here to make small chatter. What is it that you want?"
"I want the crown of the king. However I got other stuff to do. So I am busy. I have a proposal for you, Sherlock and the Winchesters."
"If you want us to make out with you. That is not going to happen. I am telling you this right now that your not my type." Replied Dean.
"Not to worry, but your not my type either. Anyways that not it. I need you to go...Hello, Cas. How are the daddy issues going?"
"None of your concerns. What is it that you want us to do, Crowley?"
"So demanding..." Crowley began.
Mrs. Hudson came back up the stairs. "Sherlock how did so many people get up here?"
"They teleported into the flat. Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Sherlock, always making a joke. He made a joke one time about his brother, Mycroft..."
"MRS. HUDSON!!!" Sherlock screamed.
"I am going to have a talk with your mother." She said walking back down the steps.
He muttered "she is just as simple minded as you. Now what was it that you wanted us to do Crowley, I presume."
"Aww...Yes I need you guys to do..."