wings are the best i swear because they're so funny
Most of the time, John doesn't even notice they're there -- they're just a thing, part of the dodgy genetics from mum's side of the family. No one else sees them -- his mum always and Harry sometimes, but he can hide them from her if he tries.
But. Sherlock looks over John's shoulder sometimes, even when nothing is there.
Sherlock's normal -- or at least, not like him, because he smells like human and walks like human and doesn't have any Power humming just beneath his skin. John's seen his blood often enough to know that.
Which is why John nearly jumps out of his own skin when he feels a firm grip wrap itself around the edge of something that technically isn't even in the same plane. "Wha --"
"Interesting," Sherlock says, looking at his hand dispassionately - his fingers dig into John's wing, and it -- it doesn't hurt, not quite, but it could. No one's ever been able to feel them except him. He glances quickly up at John, and his expression changes as he realizes he's got hold of John. His grip loosens. "I, sorry. I'm not hurting you, am I?"
"Um." John waves one of his wings -- it's caught tight, but it doesn't hurt anymore, and when he tugs, Sherlock's fingers open entirely, freeing him. "Um." He frowns. "How did you do that?"
"I asked one of my contacts how to observe things that weren't there, and he was able to direct me to someone who was able to help me. I could already detect there was something different around you, of course -- did you know you distort air currents around you?"
John hadn't known that, but it made sense -- he tended to flap his wings when fidgeting, and could even fan himself in hot weather. "You find out I have... you know, and the first thing you want to know is about air currents?"
"Well, I'd really rather know why they cast a shadow when they're generally invisible, but I don't expect you'd know, considering your knowledge of physics is deplorable."
Most of the time, John doesn't even notice they're there -- they're just a thing, part of the dodgy genetics from mum's side of the family. No one else sees them -- his mum always and Harry sometimes, but he can hide them from her if he tries.
But. Sherlock looks over John's shoulder sometimes, even when nothing is there.
Sherlock's normal -- or at least, not like him, because he smells like human and walks like human and doesn't have any Power humming just beneath his skin. John's seen his blood often enough to know that.
Which is why John nearly jumps out of his own skin when he feels a firm grip wrap itself around the edge of something that technically isn't even in the same plane. "Wha --"
"Interesting," Sherlock says, looking at his hand dispassionately - his fingers dig into John's wing, and it -- it doesn't hurt, not quite, but it could. No one's ever been able to feel them except him. He glances quickly up at John, and his expression changes as he realizes he's got hold of John. His grip loosens. "I, sorry. I'm not hurting you, am I?"
"Um." John waves one of his wings -- it's caught tight, but it doesn't hurt anymore, and when he tugs, Sherlock's fingers open entirely, freeing him. "Um." He frowns. "How did you do that?"
"I asked one of my contacts how to observe things that weren't there, and he was able to direct me to someone who was able to help me. I could already detect there was something different around you, of course -- did you know you distort air currents around you?"
John hadn't known that, but it made sense -- he tended to flap his wings when fidgeting, and could even fan himself in hot weather. "You find out I have... you know, and the first thing you want to know is about air currents?"
"Well, I'd really rather know why they cast a shadow when they're generally invisible, but I don't expect you'd know, considering your knowledge of physics is deplorable."
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"Damn, we forgot about the shadow."
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