(11) The Baker Street Secret

"Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock sighed. "Sorry, I thought you were John." He rolled on his leg a bit so that he was sitting half-crossed legged on the floor.

Mrs. Hudson stared at him long & hard & took one step back. Her lips set in a thin line, her eyes wide, she put another foot back. Slowly. Inching. Heading back through the door.

"What are you doing up here?" Sherlock suddenly went on. Mrs. Hudson's answer was yet another step backwards, away from him. "Mrs. Hud—" Sherlock's sudden look of horror matched that of the old lady's. He glanced to his left. Left wing spread out, lying on the floor through the living room. He then slowly checked right. Right wing crumpled up against the wall in this small kitchen. Licking his lips, he tore his tongue on his own fangs, but it healed instantly. It was a very rare occurrence, but when Sherlock swore, things could get no worse. "Ah ...fuck…me! What have I done?" Of course! Idiot! She heard the banging. She had come up to check on him. John left & neither had locked the door. Here he lay in misery of losing John & agony of wings spread & bleeding. Mrs. Hudson had at last seen the great Sherlock Holmes in all his glory. His true naked self. She took another step back. "No. No no no! It's ok. Halt!" He put up a hand, casting the charm. She could no longer leave. "Come in. Sit." He kept his eyes fixed into hers.

Mrs. Hudson knew she should flee down the stairs. How could she be so stupid as to let a monster like this rent 221B for all these years? Wait, didn't vampires only exist in fiction? What was something like that doing here? She couldn't move, as much as she wanted to, she could not move. A whisper caressed her mind.

'Come.'

The last thing she wanted to do was enter the realm of a vampire but that whisper was so beguiling.

'Come in.'

She stepped forward against her will, or was it?

'Come. Sit. It's ok. Just sit down.'

She moved forward again, finally standing right in front of the beast. His eyes, now back to an icy blue bore into her soul. Unblinking. He had her enthralled.

'Sit. Let me explain.'

Surely this was it. He was going to eat her. She had to run. Now. Before it was too late. She sat down in John's favorite chair.

'Just stay calm.'

Of course she was calm. Why should she fear him? She had known Sherlock for a few years. He had helped her more than once. Standing here in front of her, she noticed for the first time his handsome physique. Toned chest muscles. His usually curled hair now swept back in a wave or two. Even his wings were beautiful. An opaque silver-grey color. They nearly matched his eyes. She tried to shake it off. Tried to give her a mental kick. Since when did she look at Sherlock in this way? She was an old lady. Sherlock wasn't her type before this.

Sherlock knelt down before her, wings folded together at one side. "That's better. I've just put you under a bit of charm. It'll wear off eventually, but you'll still remember this," He took her hands into his own & rested his forehead on her lap. "Ah, what have I done? What have I done?" They remained in silent companionship for a few minutes.

"Sherlock, I brought us some biscuits to go with tea," John said entering the flat. He kicked the door closed. "Oh Mrs. Hud—my God! What have you done Sherlock?"

Sherlock lifted his face from her lap. "I didn't turn her. She just walked in on me."

John looked around. He saw the table standing precariously on one corner against the wall. He saw the chair upside-down against another wall. "You didn't think she would hear you tossing the furniture around? What is WRONG with you?"

"If we're to place blame then why didn't you oh I dunno…LOCK THE DAMN DOOR ON YOU WAY OUT?" Sherlock glared at him.

"Why you!" John hissed. "Forget it. Never mind. What's done is done. Now what, genius?"

"Do not insult my intelligence!"

"If you had a shred of that stuff we wouldn't be in this situation you otter-faced bat!"

Sherlock glared. John glared right back. They both turned to look at Mrs. Hudson still perched in John's chair. After a moment, Sherlock muttered. "Otter-faced bat? Really my little hedgehog. You should think up better insults."

"Yeah but I think my Botox one was my all-time low."

"Good point," Sherlock muttered before laughing. "We should stop reading the blogs of our fans."

"Oh damn!" John gasped between fits of laughter. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"I don't know."

"What's wrong with her though? Why isn't she responding to me?"

"Nothing really," Sherlock shrugged. "I just have her under a bit of charm."

"A bit? Sherlock, I wasn't this far out of it when you bewitched me," John stared a moment thinking. He stepped forward. "Just exactly how much power did you put into it?"

"Not much," Sherlock shrugged. "But she'll be lovesick for me for at least a week unless I remove the charm."

"Ha ha ha ha," John laughed sardonically. "You idiot!"

"Will you be quiet? I'm trying to figure this out!"

"What's to figure out?" John shot back. "She saw you like this. Erase the memory!"

"I can't. I'm not Merlin."

"Are you saying you can't erase this memory of you?"

Sherlock sighed. "She'll remember all of this to, just can't do much about it until she's out of the daze I put on her."

"She understands what's going on right now?"

"Mhm."

John double-facepalmed. When he partly pulled his head out of it at last, he noticed the carpet. "Sherlock, your wings. They're bleeding all over the carpet."

"Right. I forgot about them." In an instant, the wings were gone. John barely saw the two large slightly slanted rips from shoulder blade to tail bone seal up without a scar before it was over. Sherlock leaned over hands on knees with a groan. He winced at the searing pain of the cuts & the lingering dull throb afterward. He stood straight after moment.

John took the old lady's hands into his own. "Look, it's ok Mrs. Hudson. He doesn't bite. He gets blood from a blood bank."

Mrs. Hudson looked at John, slightly annoyed at being distracted from her sudden love. "Are you like him to? You've been here a long time. He could have turned you."

"No," John laughed a bit. "No, he can't even if he wanted to. I'm kind of a Lycan but not active."

"A werewolf?"

"Kind of. Ouch! Sherlock! What was that for?"

"You're going to have to move out now, John," Sherlock said. "You know the rule. Sign on the main door. Sorry. No dogs allowed." John rolled his eyes. Sherlock turned to their landlady. "I'm going to release you, Mrs. Hudson. Don't panic. We mean no harm." He whispered something in a language John couldn't understand but knew that it was Ingvaeonic.

Mrs. Hudson gasped & hid her face in her hands. After a moment, she looked up at the pair. "Oh good heavens. Where am I? What? Sherlock. I, I saw you. Wings." She stood up & sidestepped away. "Vampire. You're a vampire?"

"Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock began, spreading his hands in defence. "Just listen."

"Vampires & werewolves!" She glanced at John, stepping back again.

John dashed around to the door & closed it, trapping her in. "We need have a little talk it seems. Please sit down. Don't worry. We're not going to eat you."

"Mrs. Hudson, you know us better than this. Please, sit down," Sherlock reached out for her hand to pull her back to the chair.

"Alright," Mrs. Hudson gasped weakly.

John & Sherlock sat down on the floor in front of her. John let Sherlock lead, unsure of just how much he wanted to explain. In the end, Sherlock had told her just about everything except Enola's wound & Micah de LaCie. He left out Titanic as well, John mused to himself. John merely repeated that he was Lycan but not active, which he quickly explained. Neither broached the subject of impending death in a week.

The three of them sat in silence for a while. Mrs. Hudson sighed. "For a few moments there, I thought I had the strangest crush on you, Sherlock."

"That was intentional," Sherlock quickly explained charming her to hold her in place. He ignored John's snicker. "It isn't real."

"Do I have to leave?" John asked. "I'll be a good dog if you'll have me—OW! Stop hitting me Sherlock!"

"Such a git," Sherlock muttered as he walked away.

"Oh John," Mrs Hudson laughed in spite of her nervousness. "You are hopeless." She leaned forward & seriously whispered. "Are you sure he's ok?"

"Is anyone sure he's ok?" John teased. "As you say, he's Sherlock Holmes. How can any one know?"

"I can hear you. I'm standing right here."

"Oh? Well go away then. This is a private conversation," John said. "You know. Living people only."

"Oof, stake in my heart," Sherlock moaned, thumping his chest with one fist. "Right here."

John waved him away with one hand. "Go make that tea, lover boy."

"Lover boy?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "Have you two …?"

"You wish," John stood up. "Nah, he's just texting Miss Adler. Again."

"Ah I remember her," Mrs. Hudson said. "Pretty girl. Lovely hair. Is she vampire then?"

"No no, completely human," John muttered.

"The doctor is displeased," Sherlock added from the kitchen. "Oh dear, what to do?"

"Sherlock, you're three thousand years old almost," John complained. "Surely you have better tastes then for some criminal whore. Surely?"

"She isn't a whore," Sherlock defended. "She's a very expensive Dominatrix!"

"So she's a very high class whore, gotcha," John still wasn't impressed.

"Christ loved whores," Sherlock shot back. "Remember Magdalene?"

"You're not Christ & Adler sure as hell isn't Magdalene!"

"How would you know?" Sherlock brought back a silver platter with the tea. "I need someone that keeps me constantly guessing. You know my methods! Irene does that. In every way, not just for sex, which by the way is free for me."

"So you get her services 'pro boner' then," John shrugged as Mrs. Hudson nearly doubled over with the shock of his vulgarity. Sherlock's wings were suddenly spread wide & his fangs were bared. He hissed.

"Oh John!" Mrs. Hudson put up one hand. The two high fived. "I hope for her sake that it's a big paycheque!"

"MRS. HUDSON!" Sherlock screeched at her.

John high fived with her again. "No wonder it's free."

"Get out! Both of you! I swear I'll eat you both!"

"Ooo so you like it 69 then, Britney Spears style?" John began humming '3' as Sherlock's glare flamed red.

"That's it! I'm eating you!" Sherlock started forward.

"I'm a Lycan," John shot back through his tears & gasps of breath. "You'll die!"

"So will you."

"You can stay as long as you like," Mrs. Hudson said to John, adding in a lower voice. "Just don't leave fur balls!"

"Swear to God if you both don't shut up!" Sherlock had never been more irate in his life or death. He was literally hopping mad. "Be quiet! Both of you!" He was going from one foot to the other.

Mrs. Hudson stood up, clinging to John for dear life. John gasped. "That was awesome."

Sherlock stood there, shivering with impatience, his wings shaking. His glare was a deep crimson red. The pair just laughed harder. John led Mrs. Hudson out the door & down to her flat to make sure she was handling the new information well. When he returned, Sherlock was still shaking. "Any more from you, mongrel, & you won't live to see Tuesday. Be sure of that!" With that, Sherlock snatched up the empty tea tray, turned on his heel & headed for the sink. His wings sunk into his back a moment later.