Conversations with Mr Mayer are always so delightful. Sherlock returns home happier than he left, just like last time, resolves to look into that fellow's collection of mysteries-just like last time-and reluctantly shelves the project in favour of more pressing matters. Just like last time ( Read more... )

He has not spoken to Cal in six days ( Read more... )

Now that he's had a day to settle in at home, Sherlock has a few minutes to himself.

Naturally, he calls Peter Beardsley.

It has been no more than a few hours and still he feels that is too long.

"Where are they?" he asks as he steps inside. Home at last. It should be comforting.

After a very inconclusive day and a rather more informative conversation with Jarvis, Sherlock is lying in his hotel bed with his fingertips together, staring at the ceiling. It is no longer a conscious imitation of the classic pose; over the years he has made it his own.

One entirely innocuous afternoon, Sherlock places a call through Jarvis to Cal's cellphone.

Where do you go when you want to find a vampire in Sunnydale?

Well, that depends on the vampire, does it not?

For this one, Sherlock will not start out by wandering the streets aimlessly at two in the morning ( Read more... )

Sherlock is perfectly confident in his ability to take on a vampire in hand-to-hand combat and survive, unless the vampire in question has significant training. That's one vampire.

He is also perfectly confident in his ability to take on any number of them at a distance with his laser in hand, at a distance being the operative phrase ( Read more... )

It has been a day and a half, and the afternoon sun is sinking through a bank of clouds. Last night contained only minor revelations.

He is not precisely sure what he expects, but he is reasonably sure he won't like it. Nevertheless.

Sherlock phones Cal.

"Tony is home from school," says Jarvis.

Sherlock says nothing at all.

"Shall I let him know you're here?" asks Jarvis.

Sherlock says nothing at all.

"I'll take that as a yes."