14 Chapter 09

"So after your trip to the graveyard, what exciting things happened next?" Elisabeth asked

"Funnily enough, we went for lunch...."

------------------

"I have to ask, John. Why that exact fish and chips shop? Mr. Holmes doesn't strike me as a particularly picky eater" Jonathan asked

"To be honest, Brother. I have no clue. His actions are as unpredictable as the weather but his results speak for themselves. Perhaps it is a characteristic of the gifted to have unique... traits"

"A two hour ride for some battered fish and potatoes? Either this is the greatest fish and chip dish known to man or his 'uniqueness' is unparalleled."

"Putting limitations on your imagination of his potential actions will be your undoing. A rule of thumb when dealing with Holmes is to never underestimate how far he is willing to go" John warned him

"Is his willpower is that strong?" Jonathan asked

"Ego, most likely. Some might call it arrogance but I consider it confidence. His intelligence is superior to most and he also has a flair for showmanship.

Quite a few people consider him unlikable but I enjoy his company immensely. If I hadn't met Sherlock, I would still believe that people like him only existed in novels." John explained

"You seem to have a large amount of respect from the man. I'm happy you've found yourself a good friend." Jonathan stated

"Thank you, Brother but are you sure you don't want anything to eat? It'll be my treat"

"For the last time, John. I am fine. We both know I have enough money to buy that shop five times over. Save your money for your wedding."

John nodded at his words and they continued their journey to the meeting place Sherlock had set.

Under the archway into a narrow alley marketplace, filled with bustling merchants and customers, John spotted Sherlock fidgeting with a watch in his hand.

"There you are, Holmes. Jonathan and I were wondering, why that particular fish and chip shop? We're quite curious." John asked, curious

"Well, there is a particular beer they use in their batter. A Northern stout, to be exact." Sherlock answered while grabbing a handful of chips.

"Northern stout, you say? I'll give you thanks on behalf on Elisabeth. She's become interested in the culinary arts and any tips are appreciated."

"Think nothing of it, Dr. Reid. I have an acquired sense of taste which makes me more conscious of what I ingest. If Lady Ashbury and I have a chance to chat, I'd be more than happy to share my findings."

"I'll let Elisabeth know" Jonathan nodded in response

"You know, Holmes. I've seen things in war that I don't understand. In India, I once met a man who predicted his own death right down to the number and the placement of the bullet that killed him. You have to admit, Holmes that a supernatural explanation to this case is theoretically possible." John stated

"I agree with John." Jonathan added

"As do I, gentlemen but it is a huge mistake to theorize before one has data. Inevitably, one begins to twist facts to suit theories instead of theories to suit facts." Sherlock countered.

"It seems you've learned from your last situation, Mr. Holmes." Jonathan quipped

"That Said! I believe Adler's midget is the key to this" Sherlock concluded, forcefully.

"The midget had an owner? Who is this Adler person?" Jonathan asked

"Irene Adler, Brother. The only woman our detective here has ever cared about. World class criminal and the only adversary to every outsmart the great Sherlock Holmes. Twice" John explained mirthfully, enjoying the moment

"Alright, you've had your fun. Time to press on" Sherlock interrupted

"After you" John gestured with a hand

"Right. Scratches around the keyhole where the watch was wound. What does that tell you?" Sherlock asked, inspecting the pocket watch once more.

"The man was likely a drunk. Every time he would wind the watch, his hand would slip. Hence the scratches." John answered

"Very good, Watson. You've developed considerable detective powers of your own. Hmm... Let see now, there are several sets of initials scored-"

"Pawnbroker's marks"

"Excellent! Most recent of which are M.H. What does that stand for?"

"Madison and Haig" Both Jonathan and John answered

They found themselves in front of a sign that pointed to the very pawn shop they had deduced from the watch. Jonathan looked at the store in awe while John just shook his head in exasperation.

Sherlock had the decency to act shocked for a before returning to his natural look and moving forward

"They should be able to give us a address, don't you think?"

John just stood there and watch Sherlock walk into the alley without an ounce of shame.

Jonathan moved next to him with a smile, still unable to get over his shock of how Sherlock had turned a simple trip into a elaborate prank.

"Quite the coincidence aye, John"

"Indeed, Brother. Indeed... "

(Jonathan POV)

I had to constantly remind myself that standing in front of me was Sherlock Holmes, the genius detective and not Robert Downey Junior, the brilliant actor.

I couldn't help but make repeated connections between the detective and Tony Stark. 

Both undeniable prodigies who were egomaniacs with a love for showboating. Their razor sharp wit coupled with their playful demeanours calmed any tension they could caused.

Most of it due to their condescending way of speaking and the natural air of intellectual superiority they carried with themselves.

The man had a sense of charm that bordered on inhuman. If it was given a rank, I had no doubts it would be S-rank. He could sell sand in a desert if he was so inclined.

It was the exact opposite for Dr. John Watson. I saw and felt no connection from him to Jude Law, the actor.

I could pass him in the street without a second look if we were to cross paths but I felt that in the case of John, if he were to be shot at, I would throw myself in front of the path of the bullet without hesitation.

It would seem that the bonds of family transcended space and time.

Even now as I looked at his awe/disappointed face, I couldn't connect him at all to the actor that played him.

Despite their interchangeable faces, even considering them as similar felt wrong and downright unlawful.

"Are you all right, Brother?" John asked, concerned

I turned to look at him with a smile. My heart felt warm when he showed his concern. Even when I first met him personally, instead of wondering who he was, my first thoughts were

'I am proud of his achievements and glad he hasn't changed...'

How you are proud of someone you barely know? I had no idea but I didn't question it. It was the same feeling I had when I saw my siblings succeed.

I understood instinctively without even realizing that he was someone I cared about and that was enough.

"Don't worry, John. I was just lost in my thoughts." I replied, reassuring him

"That's good. We should join Sherlock. I fear the trouble he may cause without our constant vigilance."

"I fear you may be right" I grinned in reply.

As we followed Sherlock into the alleyway to the Pawnbroker's, a gipsy lady jumped out at us and grabbed John's arm.

I watched her move in slow motion towards him as my instincts flared.

I had to consciously calm myself down since I remember her as a part of Sherlock's prank but the revelation was shocking.

Time seemed to slow as I entered combat alertness.

I had sparred on and off with Elisabeth in the 4 years we spent alone and it had never triggered before. I can honestly say that it was not due to me holding back. 

I asked her to attack me without restraint and she did not hesitate. Her years of lived experience and combat training with William Marshall ensured that I ate dirt every time we sparred.

Obviously, I never resorted to using my skills and focused more on hand to hand/armed combat but it did not take away from her victory.

As the Noblesse, Strongest of all Vampires, my physical properties eclipsed hers and any other undead in existence by large margin and I still lost.

She aimed to kill and there were more than a few moments were I nursed myself with hundreds of blood bags after our fights.

I had deactivated my [Nigh-Absolute Immortal] trait to add an element of danger to our spars so the threat of death, which was a constant, was not a trigger.

What I can only guess is that unlike our spars, I was prepared to hurt and if necessary, permanently debilitate anyone who threatened to harm my family.

Maybe the skill responded to my will instead of just general physical altercations.

I very rarely wished that my skills had come with a learning manual but I quickly dashed those thoughts as I found the discovery of my various skills and boons gratifying.

It seemed Mr. Light knew me better than I knew myself.

The gipsy woman began her 'fortune telling' spiel until she messed up when she mentioned doilies which John caught onto instantly and shattered the mystical illusion she had created.

Like Holmes had mentioned before, John had developed considerable deduction powers of his own and it would be strange if he didn't notice their little act.

"Lace doilies? Holmes... does your depravity know no bounds?"

"No" Sherlock stated, matter-of-factly

I held in my laughter as I knew John was tired of his charade but if nothing else, no one could say that Sherlock was a boring man.

There was never a moment of monotony with him around.

"Oh, she grows fat and oh, she has a beard!" The gipsy woman shouted

"What of the warts, gipsy woman?" Sherlock chimed in

"Oh, she's covered in warts!" She shouts once more

"Are they extensive?!" Sherlock cried out in fake dread

At this point, I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the bizarre play I was witnessing which only caused John to become even more tired and embarrassed.

"Enough, ENOUGH! Please" John spoke loudly in exasperation

"It is the most apt prediction Flora has made in years" Sherlock said to which the gipsy lady nodded

'So the gipsy lady's name is Flora. What a lovely name.' I thought quietly

"And it is precisely the reason why you can't find a suitable ring."

"Do you have my money, Holmes?" John asked, unbothered by his analysis

"You are terrified of life without the thrill of the macabre. Admit it"

"Give me my money!"

"Admit it!"

"I hate to interfere here, Gentlemen but the Pawnbroker here also sell rings." I intervened, pointing behind them

Both John and Sherlock turned to look at the shop I pointed at. In the window of the Madison & Haig's shop was a poster advertising their multitude of ring varieties.

"So it would seem" Holmes nodded, disgruntled

"Thank you, Brother." John thanked me, grateful

"Think nothing of it. It was just a mere observation"

Sherlock reached into his coat and pulled out a few bank notes. He divides it into two before handing the larger share to John.

John grabs it from his hands with a brisk 'Thank you' before shuffling past the scheming pair into the shop.

"I have to admit, that was quite entertaining. Lady Flora, Thank you for your services. A gift for your troubles" I say to the gipsy before handing her a few large notes from my own coat.

Her eyes widen in surprise as she quickly rips the money from my hands before I could change my mind. Her actions were unnecessary but entertaining, nonetheless. 

"I'll be here if you are ever need my services again" Flora advertises one last time before disappearing into the crowds.

I pat Sherlock on the shoulder before guiding him into the shop.

They were going to be in very bad shape later and I needed them united before the impending events arrived.