Chapter 1

                    London

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"Dean stop being a baby," (Y/n) rolled her eyes, looking at Dean, who had his eyes tightly closed and was humming Metallica. "You've rode in a plane before."

"Yes and that plane almost went down," he snapped, glaring at his youngest sibling, "I wish we could just drive."

"No way to drive to England Dean," (Y/n) shook her head, "The Impala's getting shipped over anyways, so you'll have your baby. I pray they won't find the weapons stash in the trunk."

"Why do we even have to go to England," he questioned rhetorically with a sigh, leaning his head back against the headrest of the seat.

"Demonic omens in London," Sam leaned forward in his seat, keeping his voice quiet and low, "Bobby said there aren't any hunters in London, it's too busy of a city to be able to hunt without getting caught, especially with Sherlock Holmes there, he'd find the hunters just by looking at them."

"Oh boy, here we go," (Y/n) teased, "Sam has such a crush on Sherlock."

"No I don't," he frowned, "I just think it's amazing how many cases he's solved. He does it like you do (Y/n)."

"I'll believe it when I see it," she leaned her head against the plane window.

London came into view, it was a truly beautiful city. From their height (Y/n) could see the London Bridge, Big Ben, and several other large buildings. Cars were like ants from their view, moving throughout the distant streets.

"We are now landing in London, please fasten your seatbelt," the pilot said over the intercom.

Dean tightened his seatbelt, since he never even took it off. Sam and (Y/n) shared a tired look before buckling their seatbelts calmly, it had been a long flight from America.

~*~

"Oh sweet ground," Dean whispered as they entered the airport. Sam and (Y/n) chuckled at his relief.

"The Impala should be down at the docks, we just need to get a cab there." (Y/n) told the two, they nodded as they walked out of the airport and onto the busy streets of London.

She shivered slightly, pulling her flannel tighter around her. Looking at the busy street searching for any signs of a taxi.

"It's almost impossible to get a taxi in London from what I've heard," Sam sighed loudly, looking at the street hopelessly.

(Y/n) held up her hand, "Taxi!"

A taxi pulled up to the curb near us, (Y/n) smirked at the guys. She had gotten them a taxi almost immediately.

"Showoff," Dean mumbled.

"You love me," (Y/n) teased, picking up her suitcase to put it in the trunk.

"These are definitely different than the taxis in America," Sam noted, putting his luggage in the trunk.

The youngest Winchester nodded in agreement. Instead of a bright yellow these taxis were a plain black, with a sign on top saying 'Taxi' in bold lettering. Everything about London seemed similar to the larger cities of America, but it was so different at the same time.

After taking a cab down to the docks they got the Impala and drove to the nearest motel. After they parked Dean hugged his 'baby' and looked in the trunk to make sure the weapons weren't gone. Nothing was touched, which was lucky on their part. Although, they had learned how to hide their weapons well over the years.

Sam and Dean ended up getting a room for two and a room for one for (Y/n). The boys never wanted to share a room with her, claiming that they need their 'manly space', honestly (Y/n) thought they just didn't want to deal with her going through her dance stretches, just because (Y/n) left college didn't mean she just stopped dancing. On the contrary (Y/n) danced whenever she could - which was close to never due to constant hunting.

Once (Y/n) got to her room she dropped her bag onto the floor, scoping out the room. For a cheap motel it was nice, nicer than the rooms in America at least, England really was an amazing country.

Letting out a sigh (Y/n) swung her arms around a bit, wincing when her right hand made contact with the dresser. That was going to leave a mark, something the guys were sure to make fun of her for. What else do siblings do?

"Not enough room for dancing," (Y/n) shook her head in disappointment, "But there should be enough for some stretching. I'm surprised Dean doesn't throw his back out hunting, he never stretches."

~*~

After going through a few stretches the guys arrived at (Y/n)'s door with a bag of fast food. As they ate they looked over the omens and what they could mean for London.

"I don't think this is a big demon, like yellow eyes or Lilith," (Y/n) mumbled as she looked over the signs once again on her computer. "More likely a few minor ones just looking to cause trouble, a few people have been killed by them, their deaths seem supernatural, the murderers claiming they were possessed."

"London has had a few supernatural creatures," Sam added, squinting his eyes at his computer screen, "The cases were never solved. There really should be more hunters here."

"Be happy that there aren't," Dean pointed out, his mouth full of burger, "That would mean that they were dragged into the business."

"True," (Y/n) nodded, it was always sad hearing how hunters came into hunting. Bobby lost his wife, the Winchesters lost their parents, Jo and Ellen lost their father and husband.

"So, tomorrow we go talk to the police at the station-"

"Detective Inspectors at Scotland Yard," (Y/n) corrected.

"Right," Sam nodded, "Detective Inspectors at the Scotland Yard, and see what they think."

"I don't want to pull out the monkey suits," Dean whined.

"I have to wear heels," (Y/n) shuddered. Inch heels were fine, maybe even two. But her monkey suit heels were at least three inches, she never understood how FBI women could run in them, she hunted in combat boots.

Dean and (Y/n) turned to Sam, waiting for him to complain about something relating to the monkey suits.

"My suits pants are getting short," he smiled sheepishly.

"Moose," Dean mumbled.

"Samsquatch," (Y/n) giggled, ruffling Sam's hair, "Who knew you were still growing."

"Look who's talking," Sam slapped her hand away, "You look like you could still grow some."

"I'm five foot seven," (Y/n) defended, "That's tall!"

"You aren't even as tall as Cas," Dean snorted.

"He's tall! Maybe not compared to you two but still. You know what, get out you two. I still need to wash the airport smell off of me."

(Y/n) struggled to push Dean and Sam out of her room, they were like brick walls. When she finally managed to push them out she shut the door with a sigh.

"Who knows," (Y/n) snorted, "Maybe I'll meet Sherlock Holmes, and he'll be just like me."