HYDE PARK – LONDON – EVENING

"Whoa! Whoa! No! No! No!" Sherlock bellowed as trees emerged as if from nowhere, forcing him to duck and weave the end result sending him spinning out of control twisting and turning like a whirling dervish.

"You're losing altitude Sherlock. Flap your wings faster or you'll..."

The instructions from below went unheeded, with the inevitable result.

"Oh shit!" and then the all too familiar sound of impact as Sherlock crash landed, yet again.

Molly rushed over to assist him, but Sherlock would have none of it.

"Are you all right?" she asked, giggling in obvious amusement as she attempted to help him to his feet.

Sherlock tore his arm from her grasp with an angry snarl. "You think this is funny?"

"A little bit," Molly admitted, while doing her best to appear contrite. Laughing at one's pupil was bad form. But seeing the funny side of things was part of her fae nature.

That she found his predicament humorous didn't help Sherlock's temper, in fact it only served to enrage him further.

He stood straight and tall, towering over the diminutive woman before him. The dragon-like aspects of his personality coming to the fore, having been triggered by his increasingly foul mood.

Sherlock began circling Molly in an unmistakably predatory fashion, becoming more bestial as he worked himself into a rage, growling and snarling and baring his teeth, his tail flicking and snapping like a whip as his agitation grew. His crest of horns stood to attention, while his eyes glowed hot, going from golden to red with only the barest hint of his original blue/green colour remaining.

Standing with his wings spread wide, his chest heaving as his breathing sped up, causing a hissing sound to emerge as smoke poured from his nostrils. This was followed by the telltale glow of ignited flame, coursing through his veins, moving with lightening speed from his abdomen, over his chest and up his throat, giving fair warning that it was about to emerge from his mouth.

It was a truly terrifying spectacle, but all Molly could think was how magnificent he appeared in all his serpentine glory. It was an astounding transformation.

But she knew she needed to remain professional. "You need to learn control," she instructed sternly.

Molly felt the full blast of his heated breath as he turned his frustration on her. "Well you could help by giving a demonstration. But wait, oh no you can't can you, you no longer possess wings!" Sherlock pointed out petulantly, his tone sarcastic.

Molly's response was immediate, and totally unexpected. The first Sherlock knew of it was the sharp, stinging sensation when the palm of her hand connected with first his left cheek, then his right, and back to his left again Tears of hurt poured down her face but the hurt she felt helped to fuel her own anger. She was damned if she was going to let him take his aggression out on her. And time was of the essence.

Taken aback Sherlock reared back in shock, surprised by both her vehemence, and her spunk.

"You need to focus Sherlock," Molly instructed bringing them back to the task at hand.

"I was," he interrupted, a pout forming on his cupids bow lips. "I was calculating all the permutations and variables of atmospheric pressure, and..."

"And that's your problem right there," Molly interjected, as she reached up to lay her hand against his chest. "Flying is intuitive. It comes from the heart not the head. Constantly thinking about what may happen due to external factors only distracts from the innate ability that will guide you if you freely give yourself over to its care."

"That's fine for you," Sherlock huffed dejectedly. "You were born able to fly. I wasn't."

Molly didn't take offence, she sympathised with him. As things stood, both were learning to deal with things that were completely out of their control.

"But you have that ability now. You just have to learn to trust it," she said in an encouraging tone.

Sherlock still didn't look convinced.

"If you can't trust it, will you at least trust me?" Molly asked.

Sherlock considered her request for a moment or two before nodding his agreement.

The smile that lit up her face, coupled with the feel of her hand still resting on his chest caused a particular sensation in the region where the heart he always claimed he didn't possess resided.