Thanks to lostmypen120, magicstrikes, Rocking the Redhead, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Nerdlee, saoirse09, aye2skeye, elfigreen14, Sharpietattoo, hotflower901, Mrs. Monster, SeriyaMalfoy, Maia2 and ThetaSigma14 for their reviews.

As always, love to Lexie and Pablo for their beta work!

I've been very vague as to when exactly "Old Habits" is set in the Supernatural universe, just that it's set after the Purgatory thing. After the last episode, I can firmly place it between "A Little Slice of Kevin" and the yet-to-air "Hunteri Heroici".


Sam Winchester was tall.

That was the first thing Sherlock noted about the man. Of course, there were much deeper observations that could be made, but his height certainly stuck out. Sherlock was used to towering over everyone he knew and Sam Winchester had a few inches on him.

As they walked along to the hardware store, Sherlock continued to make deductions about him.

Issues with both of his parents. Ah, mother died when he was an infant and a he was raised by a stern father. Overprotected by Dean. Two- no, three long-term relationships. All ended badly. A substance abuse problem he'd had under control for several years.

The idle chatter Sam made about Sherlock's casework in London indicated he was more cerebral than his Neanderthal of a brother. All in all, he could see working with this man. Dean, on the other hand...

It didn't help that Dean kept flirting with Molly.

Sherlock wasn't jealous. No, of course he wasn't. Why in the word would he be jealous of some alcoholic, commitment-phobic demon hunter sniffing around Molly? Molly was not his type. She was mousey and shy, her features plain.

Not that she was unattractive. She had an earnest allure that had gotten her many admirers when they were still in London. Molly herself was actually unaware how many men actually found her desirable. Even John had expressed his admiration of her appearance.

But someone like Dean would not see Molly's understated appeal. He preferred buxom, plastic women, ones that looked like they should be on television. Oh, he was flirting with Molly, but that was only because it was as natural to him as breathing to flirt with a woman. He didn't know how not to flirt with a woman.

It was irritating.

Why was Sherlock focusing on Dean's trifling with Molly? It was such a petty and boring triviality.

Oh. Of course. Everything else was too heady.

A year. He'd spent a year trying to track down the members of Moriarty's network. He'd been successful on many of his missions. He'd taken so many down. But Sebastian Moran was the real lynchpin.

Now he discovered that Sebastian Moran was the King of Hell.

It seemed unlikely a keen intellect would do much good in combating against the King of Hell.

Especially when the King of Hell contributed to his keen intellect.

How much had he actually contributed? What of him was real and not a construct of a deal James Moriarty had made for his soul?

"You have personal experience with demon deals," Sherlock asked Sam, staring intensely at the massive hunter.

"Huh?" Sam looked down at Sherlock, surprised by the sudden exclamation from Sherlock. "What's going on?"

"Demon deals," Sherlock repeated, rolling his eyes. "You have personal experience in them. Your brother sold his soul. So did your father. I suspect you have had other experiences."

Sam's expression darkened. He nodded slowly. "Yeah. They did. Why?"

Sherlock pressed his lips together tightly, thinking about how next to proceed in the conversation. "I..." He paused. "I am curious about the conventions of this world I have been introduced to. It seems that demon deals seem to be a common thread amongst Hunters."

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. In my family, I'm the only one who never made one." He paused for a long moment, looking down. "Well, not the same sort of deal."

Sherlock surveyed Sam closely. It seemed Sam Winchester's past was littered with horrible choices, made for what he thought was the greater good. He was overly emotional and it brought him to ruin. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Now, tell me about these deals. I want to know everything."

The engine of the Impala roared as the car sped down the road. "Keep going!" Molly shouted, looking over her shoulder out the back window.

"I don't even know where it is!" Dean shouted back. "How am I supposed to drive away from the damn thing?"

"It's still behind us," Molly shouted. She reached into the backseat and grabbed a shotgun. "Just keep driving!"

Dean looked over as Molly rolled down the window. "What are you doing?" Dean shouted.

"Just trust me!" Molly said as she pulled herself out of the window, perching precariously on the door as she aimed the shotgun behind them.

Dean looked out of the rear view mirror. He heard the shotgun blast and saw the rock salt connect with something invisible. "It's not going to stop it!"

"I can at least slow it down!" Molly shouted. She fired again at the invisible beast.

There was a bump in the road, causing the car to jostle. Molly shrieked and lost purchase on the car, falling out of the window and hitting the ground with a thump. It was only a quick roll out of the way that kept her from being run over by the back wheels.

"DAMMIT! DOC!" Dean shouted, slamming on the brakes.

He could see in the mirror that Molly had lost her shotgun. She limped to get away from the invisible beast.

Dean grabbed another shotgun from the back and leapt out of the Impala as Molly tripped. He aimed, unsure where he was supposed to point the gun.

The young doctor was panicked as she reached into her coat and pulled out a small glass bottle. She threw it and it hit something, shattering. The liquid inside spread over the creature. Holy water.

Dean fired at the beast as he heard Molly begin to chant. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio, infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

Molly scrambled backwards and Dean lined up another shot. Molly's voice grew in pitch with her fear. "Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!"

Molly screamed as there was a loud howl and a gust of wind blew her hair back. It quickly calmed and Molly relaxed.

Dean lowered his shotgun warily. "Did you just exorcise a hellhound?"

Molly nodded slowly. "It would appear so."

Dean strode to Molly and grabbed her, helping her to her feet. "Are you all right?"

Molly grimaced. "I think I dislocated my shoulder."

Dean took a hold of Molly's shoulder. She shrieked as he readjusted it. She grabbed her arm, her face lined with pain. "Thanks... Been a long time since I did that."

Dean looked to where the hellhound has just been. "I didn't know that would work."

Molly laughed weakly. "Neither did I. I panicked and..." She sighed in relief. "Hellhounds are just extra-strong demons, right? I doubt it'll be gone for long, but..."

Dean licked his lips as he looked down at the small woman. "We should call Sam and Sherlock."

Molly nodded. "Yeah. We really should."

Dean gestured to her arm. "Maybe Cas to fix up your arm better."

Molly again nodded. "Yeah."

Suddenly, Molly's good hand was buried in Dean's hair, pulling him down towards her. Her mouth eagerly sought Dean's. He fell into her frantic affection easily. His arms slipped around her slender waist, pulling her towards him.

He knew she was in pain, but she seemed to be ignoring it at she eagerly explored him. Dean wasn't going to object, lost in her touches. He hadn't been with anyone since before he'd gone to Purgatory. His heart was pounding, the blood thrumming through his veins. He needed to experience this Hunter, to feel her against him.

Dean directed her back towards the Impala. Without pulling away he opened the backseat and eased her in. He looked down at Molly as she laid out on the backseat. He hesitated only briefly. He wasn't blind. He knew how she felt about her companion. "You sure about this?"

Molly just pulled Dean down onto her. "Dean. Just shut up."