ihadabadday | The Black Book - AU - Locked to seaweed

"There is no reason to be scared. Most magic is based in logic and follows an exact set of protocols." He said, "It's really another science." John paused and glanced towards the man, no vampire, that had moved over to them. His eyes flickered over him.

Lestrade looked to Sherlock. "Can you tell me anything about the scene?" He asked.

Sherlock didn't want to take his eyes off of this soldier.. this.. John. He inwardly cursed Lestrade that this damn case was getting in the way of the biggest mystery for him in 300 years.

"A demon circle, a poorly drawn one." He said in a terse, clipped tone. He walked around the circle, talking as he went. "It's accurately drawn, but they botched one symbol. Lucky for you, Lestrade. If they'd gotten it right, they could have actually pulled a demon through."

"But it's wrong on purpose." He looked over to John, and then to Lestrade, looking at them as it should have been perfectly obvious.

"How do you get that?" John asked as he watched Sherlock, "it could just mean that accurate source material is hard to find."

He crossed his arms over his chest, just watching the man, no, vampire, carefully.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. How did they not get this?

"Because this is not only goats blood, but there are also two human blood types present. One of them has a high sulfur content, which means that they knew enough dark magic to inoculate themselves against a backfire." He looked at they, but they still weren't getting it.

He sighed and rolled his eyes again. That MEANS" he emphasized that word 'that if they inoculated themselves, they knew how to make a perfect circle. The second person was not inoculated, and therefore they would be able to do a proper circle, which means that they were forced to participate. That means that it was a murder covered up as demon summoning. No demon was actually necessary."

John was quiet for a moment, his eyes wide. He snapped back to himself, a smirk coming over his face. "Brilliant." And he honestly meant it.

He had encountered vampires before and while they were all arrogant... None of them had this. Whatever it was this one had. He had been brilliant before becoming a vampire, that much was obvious. But he was a genius now.

Sherlock's head quickly shot towards the man who made the comment. He had excellent hearing, so he had heard the man's name, but he wanted a personal introduction, so he walked up close to the man- a good excuse to be able to observe and deduce him even more, and stopped just inches away.

"What's your name?" He asked.

John drew his gaze from the circle and looked to the vampire. He met his gaze without flinching.

"Aah, Doctor John Watson."

He knew no matter how he tried to not, he would always fall into parade rest. It was just natural anymore.

Soldier Doctor John Watson, Sherlock thought to himself. His hair was military short, and he was standing at parade rest, despite an injury.

"Well, Doctor John Watson." He said, a bit condescendingly. "I assume that you know how to break the circle."

"Of course." John moved to the small assuming antique doctor's bag he carried. He knelt down and pulled out a piece of chalk.

He drew the symbol in front of the circle and the moment he lifted the chalk from the wooden floor, power could be felt in the room. And it was heavy around John as well.

"Well..." Lestrade started to Sally and Anderson, "That was fast."

Now Sherlock knew for sure. There was something different about him. This John Watson was not human. He wasn't a vampire, or even an Elite. There was something.. deeper and darker. He couldn't quite place it though.

He was determined to find out.

"I'd like a copy of the blood work when it's done, if it's alright." Sherlock was staring hard at John when the man made his request.

"Not a problem." Lestrade replied, at the same time that Sherlock , still looking straight into John's eyes asked .. "Afghanistan or Iraq?"

He paused and looked at Sherlock. "Afghanistan..." he said, "how?"

Not many knew about his line of work in the military. They just saw the doctor bit and the invalid home bit. Really it was easy to let people make their own conclusions.

"You were a soldier." Sherlock said,matter of factly, like it was the easiest deduction that he ever had to make.

:"Until very recently." He continued, moving one step closer, his eyes boring into John's deep azure blue eyes. "You still hold yourself like you're carrying a rifle. You have a wound in your shoulder. Even though it has mostly healed, it still has a particular smell to it. " He leaned in and sniffed slightly, then moved back.

"Afghanistan and Iraq are currently the only place now experiencing demon attacks. You are, or were, active British Military, and your tan line prove my point, they are the only places with enough sun to give you those tan lines."

He paused, leaning in a bit. "Bu you're not just an occult expert, are you?" He asked. "You're a demon hunter."

Not blinking nor taking his eyes away from John, he says "I'm looking for a new flatmate. And you need a place to stay. Your unit housing is too far away, and you have to commute into London every day, which makes you quite useless."

John shook his head and put his hands up. "Hold on. Vampires have rules don't they? I understand, you're not like other vampires. But surely even you have some rules. Especially concerning your territory."

"Vampires only share their territory with their blood servants or mates. Neither of which I am particularly interested in."

Sherlock sighed. He was tired of this. He had solved the bloody case- it wasn't evne a real case, just a boring murder between two humans. He needed to get John away from here and figure out what this man- well not a man but whatever he was- was about.

So he used his Sight.. humans called it Thrall, because they would be enthralled enough to do whatever they were told.

His eyes grew red, glowing menacingly, and he stared, unblinkingly at John.

"John Watson." Sherlock's voice was ethereal, not human, deep and dark and rich and evil.

"You will come home with me, right now."

John was stunned for a moment before bringing his hands up and shaking his head. "I mean thanks, but no thanks?"

He looked to Greg who was lowering his hand from his face, almost in awe of what was happening.

A human refusing the Thrall...

That tore it. The man was not human. No human EVER resisted the Thrall.

Anger bubbled up inside of him. He NEEDED to know who this man, was- this soldier.. this... JOHN.

Without another word, he turned with a great swoosh of his Belstaff and left. It was obvious that he was going to have to get his information another way, so he decided to go home, lick his wounds, and figure out another plan to get to the bottom of whatever this John Watson was.

John stared at the vampire flouncing off and then shook his head. Well then. He moved to start to gather his things. His work here was done. He needed to head back to his flat.

He watched the DI and his people, shaking his head. It was always interesting seeing everyone be confused over things. Especially the occult.

It wasn't until three days later when Sherlock came into contact with John Watson again. Lestrade had, annoyingly called Sherlock back into his office at New Scotland Yard. It had ended up being a fruitless meeting that left Sherlock more frustrated than before he had arrived.

Immediately, Sherlock spotted John at the front desk. Apparently he was picking up some files. It was obvious that it was the blood work that he had requested at the scene.

He stomped over there and stopped right when his hooded Belstaff was pressing against John's coat. He stood over John, and ominous, looming presence.

John paused when he saw the expression on the receptionist's face. But he didn't look up. "Ah hey there. Sherlock was it?"

He was replaying the conversation he had with Lestrade when the man drove him home the other day. He was positive that the man didn't believe him on how he escaped Sherlock's Thrall.

Sherlock glared. He knew damn well who he was. He saw the recognition in his eyes when he realized who was there, without even looking at him.

Why did Sherlock want the man to look at him?

The receptionist handed him a file, but Sherlock ignored her and spoke with John, even though he wasn't looking at him.

"You know that there is more to this case than just a simple summoning that went wrong, do you not?" He asked.

He took the file from the receptionist and glanced at Sherlock. John then tucked the file into his bag. "Oh, your theory sounded plausible."

He stepped back from the desk and went to head for the exit. He was wearing military boots, denim trousers, a black canvas jacket, and a simply t-shirt. He was wearing the same pendant he had been at their first meeting.

Sherlock paused for a moment as John started to walk away. He shook his head to clear it. He couldn't help but be utterly fascinated by the man. He was, as humans- or whatever he was- went, quite handsome. And John had blushed more than once when Sherlock had spoke to him. There was an attraction, he could tell.

One more shake of the head and he followed John, his longer legs making quick work of the distance between them. As they reached the outside, he put his hood up and put on his gloves. Even through that the heat made his skin prickle and flush.

"It wasn't a THEORY, John." He said as they left New Scotland Yard. "That is what really happened. That idiot Lestrade is looking for the other person, he's handling it like it was just another case of illegal magic. Moron." He muttered the last word under his breath.

"Well that's his call." John said as they walked. He had no issue keeping up with Sherlock's long strides. It was odd how easy they were falling into things. And it worried and intrigued him.

"I don't want to see more people get hurt, but if he goes in the wrong direction and someone else gets flash fried... Then it's on him."

He paused in a shady area and tilted his head to look up at Sherlock.

I didn't escape Sherlock's notice that the man was easily keeping up with him.

Right now, though, he was concentrating more on what he was saying and trying not to think about how his strides were inhumanly long, his stamina high (don't think about that!!) and how the man was hardly taking his eyes off of him.

"But he's WRONG!" Sherlock exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. The man was so frustrating and alluring and..

NO.

He coudln't think about that.

John glanced up at him and then paused in their steps. He waited for the vampire to realize he had stopped. "So, what do you want to do about it?" He asked.

What he had. It been expecting was the offer for dinner. He arched an eyebrow and looked at him.

"A real restaurant or a vampire blood dungeon sort of thing?" He asked dryly.

The Black Book - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

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