{ detective }

              It seems like a forever in the reality of a few seconds.   Spare               hand moves up & down her arm,  half reassuring, half lost in               the galaxy that is,  somehow,   compressed and contained in               her eyes.      Her arm is a blessed anchor upon his shoulder,                pulling him down to her level, forcing his knees soft and both               hands to skate through her hair because she's the only thing               in existence, and he has no need for anything else.               The merest of utterings escapes his lips in  the  form  of  an,                "Afternoon," and the quietest of voices delivers it. The quiete-               st of voices with the darkest of tones and threads of emotion.               This is nature, it seems, not knowledge.  He is naïve, and he               is learning.                "Hello, Sky."

;     ehhhhhh cba ;     i'll be fiiiine

              “ Exaggeration is not a trait with which one can attract               intelligence. ”               Two lifetimes.                He watches her warily for no more than a second be-                fore meeting the offer with light fingers,    and a smirk                held only for those who make bad  decisions  around                him.                Blade is drawn to eyeline,  sharp edge traced with in-                dex finger, before silver swings to touch hard flooring.               “ How did you acquire such an object? ”

                    Cue eye roll, chin resting on hand.                    “ That's the sound of people drowning, Richie. ”

                “ What are you doing here? ”                 Sherlock's more threatening than anything    it's his flat,                 not anyone else's. From it, he controls the world    petty                 criminals, snipers, all puppets under his command.                 And then, of course, the bombers. But they're a different                 matter entirely.                 “ Do you enjoy trespassing? ”

        “ I shall humour you, only if you give me the exact names a-            nd atomic symbols of two or more chemicals that will rea-            ct upon exposure to one another. ”

                “ Quite literally the 'time of new swords'. ”                 Eyes squint vaguely towards the woman, half-admiring, half-                 cautious.  There aren't many who'd shine a sword so nonch-                 alantly.                 “ A fan, I see? ”