One Of Them

55

"Well, what did you two get into last night?"

Sherlock and Valspar looked up from opposite sides of the fire's remains, then grinned.

"A bit of this, a bit of that," Sherlock ventured.

One of the elders narrowed his eyes.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Valspar smirked.

"Oh, we killed a man, disposed of his body, and then talked until dawn," he said conversationally. "Nothing that major."

"Not major at all," Sherlock agreed.

The elder stared. "You made your kill mark?"

"M-hmm."

"What did he do to deserve to die?"

"Went after Valspar." Sherlock flexed his fingers. "I wasn't about to stand by and let him be killed."

Valspar met the elder's eyes with a plea: Don't banish him, please.

"Murder is against our rules," the elder said slowly.

Sherlock froze.

"He's one of us, Typhus," Valspar argued. "He defended me."

Typhus glared. "How did you dispose of the body?"

"Must you know?" Sherlock queried.

Typhus gritted his teeth.

"Let him stay, Typhus," another advised. "Come on. Self-defense is completely acceptable. So what if he included Valspar in that definition?

"But really, how did you dispose of the body?" the defendant added.

Sherlock smirked. "There are quite a few places a person could do that. I found the Thames to be inviting- specifically, its bottom."