(4) An Old-Fashioned Invite
Irene stood in front of the door of Kate's home for a long time, feeling like a run-away who had decided to come back all of a sudden. She had only been gone a few months & had kept in contact with the other woman the entire time. So why was she being ridiculous & just standing out here? For some reason, all she could think of was how they both had reacted when Sherlock had shown up & confirmed he was indeed a vampire. It didn't go over so well at first. Would she be hated or accepted?
A light rain began falling. Irene moved up the few stairs to get under shelter & turned to look out into the mist. She heard the door open behind her.
"Are you ever going to come in?" teased that familiar feminine voice.
Irene looked at her, feeling guilty like a cat that swallowed the canary. "Of course, I am." She finally stepped inside.
"I think that was the longest time you spent with a client, Mistress," Kate said as she closed the door. "You really like Sherlock, don't you?"
Irene stared at her. "I was not with him the entire time!"
"You weren't?"
"No," Irene said. "Just for a little while, at the beginning. I had other things to do & then Mary got killed."
"How is John?" Kate asked.
"He's doing better," said Irene. "We all ended up in 221B today for him."
"221B, huh?" Kate raised her brow. Oh her Mistress had it bad for that guy!
"Yeah, with John, for the football game," Irene ignored her all-knowing look. "But then, something happened." She proceeded to tell them of the vials of blood & Mycroft's wing ridge brought up from the shipwreck.
"Whoa!" Kate gasped. "That must have been something to see! Wish I was there."
"They might donate the case to a Titanic museum," said Irene. "I could show it to you whenever that happens. But that wing ridge won't ever be seen by the public eye. It's a danger to any vampire, so they are going to hide it." She crossed her arms & decided to get it over with. "By the way, I broke up with Sherlock a long time ago."
"What?"
"We're done. Long time ago," Irene reiterated. "We still maintain a friendship, but he is no longer a client of mine."
"Why?" Kate could hardly believe it. Sherlock & Irene, done? Not possible!
"Because I'm no ghost!" Irene snapped. She put up her hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I just ... I can't replace what he lost." She hesitated before saying, "Look, don't say anything. It's personal. But thousands of years ago, when he was still human, he had someone. She got caught up in a plague & died. It's why he only dates humans. Looking for what he had lost. I can't replace her. No one can. So I moved on."
Kate was sitting on the couch by now, staring at Irene in shock. She shook her head. "I can't believe you broke up with him. You had really fallen for him!"
"I know," Irene sighed. "I miss him, but ..." She let it hang.
"Do you think you'll ever get back with him?"
Irene turned away & stared at the window into the rain. "He would really have to move on for that to happen." She watched drops of water chase each other down the window pane. "He has never taken a vampire or Lycan lover. Ever. Only human, like her."
"Well, you're human," Kate pointed out. Irene didn't answer. Kate stared at Irene's back. Suddenly, her eyes went wide with realization. "Oh, bugger me!"
Irene turned back to her. "I'm sorry."
"Oh my God! You're turned?"
" ... K-Katie ... " Irene's voice cracked.
Kate looked Irene up & down. "No. Oh, you didn't!" She rolled her eyes. "You made Sherlock turn you, didn't you?" Irene just shrugged helplessly. "How cruel is that? Irene! The poor man. You deserve to be punished for that, but I don't even know what to do with you!" She got up & stomped out of the living room.
"I'm ... I'm sorry," Irene whispered. She sunk to the floor & spread her iridescent violet wings around herself.
From the window, Sherlock watched Irene get into a cab & leave. He wouldn't admit it, but he missed her. A little. Their break-up had been rather sudden & she was the one who initiated it. He hadn't expected that. But she was a vampire now. Another thing he didn't count on, judging by her reaction when he had entered her home after being rescued from Titanic. She had won over him two more times, being unpredictable. Oh well, no sense fretting over it now. He turned away to help carry Mycroft's long piece of his wing ridge down the stairs & outside. Enola delicately carried the case.
Both were placed in Sherrinford's limo. The window between the front seat & the back had to be put down to pass the ridge through. Enola & Sherlock got in the back, with the ridge between them. Sherrinford made the long drive all the way up to the castle.
The wing ridge was put in Mycroft's room for the time being. It was dark inside. The metal shutters for the windows had already been closed & locked for about a year now. Sheets covered everything. The ridge lay diagonally across the bed, passing the edges on both sides. The main door was locked, trapping the weapon inside. All three cast a silent glance to another locked door that hadn't been opened in over a hundred years, before heading down stairs to one of the main living rooms.
Enola put the case onto the center table. "So, you think we should donate this?"
"Not right away," Sherrinford lay across one ottoman, legs hanging over the top so that he was sort of twisted on the seat. "I'd like to hold on to it for a little while. We still have to sort out a lot of things for Mycroft. But none of us had gotten around to doing that, yet."
"Shane Sherrinford Scott Holmes!" Enola glared. "Can you not sit straight for two seconds?"
"Why?" Sherrinford sent an upside-down fanged grin at her. "I'm comfortable. Piss off."
"Make me!"
Sherrinford sighed long & dramatically. "When is your next moon flow due?"
Enola looked at Sherlock. "I'm just going to run upstairs & grab Mycroft's wing ridge."
"Just use mine," Sherlock opened his wings, stretching one out towards his brother. Sherrinford snapped open his own wings & cocooned himself in protection. Sherlock began prodding him with a wingtip.
"Stop picking on me!" Sherrinford moaned.
"It makes Enola happy," Sherlock poked harder, causing a few tears in the Phoenix-fire membrane. He smiled at the groans of pain.
"Why are Holmes men so fucking immature?" Enola groaned.
"Whoa, ohh!" Sherlock stopped torturing Sherrinford. "Language for a lady!"
Enola stared at him before bursting out laughing. "Really? I'm not that ladylike. I grew up with three brothers. I can out-swear either of you in several languages. Where do you want me to start?"
Sherlock pulled out his mobile. "Lestrade's calling me."
"That's very convenient," Enola said.
"Go away," Sherlock moaned, turning away. He swished his wings sideways as he moved towards the hallway. "My sister is being mean to me. Please tell me you have a case you need me on?"
Lestrade laughed. "Pretty sure you're the one being mean & yes I do."
"On my way," Sherlock ignored the jibe. He put the mobile away & looked at Enola. "Seriously, when are you due to bleed again?" Enola just glared & put up both middle fingers.
"You know, as a guy," Sherrinford began. "We both could beat you with that." Enola just groaned & marched away.
"He's right, Ennie!" Sherlock called out after her. He looked at Sherrinford, still lying however the heck he felt like it. "I'm going back to London. I'll just fly in."
Finally, Sherrinford closed his wings & righted himself. "Try to get John to help. He needs to get out more." He began pulling off the protective couch cover since he had just bled all over it & went to get a fresh one. It was similar to what some people used for pets. In fact, vampires had invented those. The blood on the floor that Sherlock left; though, still had to be taken care of the hard way & worse, Sherlock had already snuck off outside & was in the process of leaving. Very convenient, indeed!
Sherlock went outside & sent a message to John before taking off into the air. He dropped onto the beach the cops were on to find John already there close to the fresh body. Donovan & John stood nearby it while Anderson was crouched down for a better look.
Lestrade came up to Sherlock as the wings slid out of sight. Sherlock looked at the black eye & injured nose. "I think it gives your face an improvement."
"Shut up!" Lestrade ordered. "Multiple stabbings on this one. We actually know who did it this time since it was in broad daylight & someone saw the whole thing. But the killer took off & without the murder weapon, we can't prove anything. Think you can come up with something?"
"Any idea where the weapon is?" Sherlock asked.
"Sure do," Lestrade jabbed a thumb over his shoulder to point at the water. "Way out there. The bay is a few hundred feet deep. Good luck findi—Sherlock?" He could only watch as Sherlock ran into the water & dived in. He looked at John. "He can't be serious?"
John headed towards a stone wall leading out into the bay with the three cops following. Glancing out into the water, they could see a large pale shape just under the surface. Sherlock had his wings fanned out & looked for all the world like a gigantic ray. Membrane rippled in the currents as he plunged forward & slightly downward.
Sherlock moved easily under the water, following the contours of the bay. He paused often, passing a hand a few inches above the rocks & sand, as if feeling their energy. Small waves spiralled out wherever his fingers pointed. He occasionally surfaced & handed man-made things back to those standing on the wall. Suddenly, he violently broke through the water to cling onto the edge of the rock wall, spluttering.
"What are you doing?" John asked, hanging onto three diamond rings, a few nails & a pen that would never work again.
"Feeling the elements," replied Sherlock after he had calmed down a bit. "I can do something similar to the echo-location of the dolphins. I am looking for an unnatural object & I can sense the difference between the landscape & whatever shouldn't be here." He sighed heavily. "Also, I was just French-kissed by a seal." Everyone stared at him. As if on cue, the curious seal surfaced up against Sherlock, softly barking & shoving his nose into Sherlock's bare chest, close to where the pendant hung down.
"By a SEAL!" Lestrade sobbed as he walked away, delicately wiping tears of laughter, being mindful of the injury.
Sherlock pushed the seal aside. "I really could have gone another three thousand years without that kind of interaction!" He glared at it for a moment. Hearing laughter, the rather unimpressed vampire looked helplessly up at everyone now laughing at him before sinking into the depths once more, his slippery new friend close by his side.
Sherlock ignored the laughter as best possible whenever he came back to the top. He kept glancing back at the body & then forward in the direction he was going, following a possible trajectory of a tossed weapon. After nearly forty minutes of searching, Sherlock finally returned to the stone seawall with the hunting knife. He climbed up & handed it to Donovan. The seal barked at him. Sherlock pretended not to hear either the animal or the fresh wave of laughter.
"Was that seal with you the whole time?" John asked.
"Yes, the whole time," Sherlock deadpanned.
"I think she loves you," Donovan teased.
"It's a male," Sherlock grumbled.
"Ooo, put that on the blogs, John!" Anderson doubled over, crying.
"You know, I happen to like fresh food," Sherlock stood over him, glaring.
Anderson finally stood straight to see a red gleam & four sharp points bared at him. It only made him laugh harder. "You wouldn't. You don't have my permission." He walked away, still laughing.
"I'm surprised the sharks didn't come," Donovan added. "Your wings still bleed under water enough for them to smell it."
"Sharks don't eat vampires," Sherlock said as turned to Lestrade. "Can we please find out who owns that knife? It has a serial number on it." The seal barked once more before swimming away. Lestrade could only nod as he fought to keep his face straight.
Once the license for the knife was found, it was only a matter of time before the killer was caught & the case closed. The suspect was forever put out by the fact that a bat & a seal did him in.
John returned to the flat with Derek & Jessica. It would be a few days before attempting to go out again. Sherlock still left out honeycombs for him. John knew he would eventually have to go to Mary's house to take care of a few things, but at the moment, he was content to let Mrs. Hudson fuss over him & the children.
Sherlock wasn't around much at the time. He was often at the castle, helping Sherrinford & Enola set it up for an event that the Holmes were in charge of every one hundred seventeen years, apparently. It was the reason Sherrinford had been rather sharp with Sherlock (with everyone, in fact) for the least little thing gone wrong at the castle. It was a festival for Beltane. Vampires & werewolves had continued certain ancient traditions for thousands of years, celebrated discreetly at various homes.
It would also be the first time the holiday was celebrated at the Holmes castle without Mycroft, which put Sherrinford even more on edge. They no longer had Mycroft's helicopter. It was just Sherrinford's now along with the spare he used to share with Mycroft.
As for helicopters, Donovan was moving up in her job. She had recently applied & was then accepted to join the Air Support Helicopter Unit. The force currently used three black & yellow aircraft. Now often an assistant in a helicopter, she was frequently absent whenever Sherlock showed up for Lestrade, which suited literally everyone just fine.
While still training, Lestrade went with her the first few times, strapping himself in the back seat behind the pilot while Donovan was in front next to him. They were linked to each other & to the ground through wireless connection to keep verbal contact. On one such occasion, they were passed by a large sleek black helicopter. Donovan caught a glimpse of the pilot.
She glanced back at Lestrade. "I think that was the Holmes helicopter."
"Yeah, it was," Lestrade yelled back. "That's Sherrinford. He got it from the Secret Service, just like Mycroft."
"Holmes," the pilot echoed the name. "Aren't they ... vampires?"
"So what?" Lestrade defended. "I know them. They're fine."
"But what would a vampire need a chopper for?" the pilot asked. "Don't they have wings?"
"Their wolves don't," said Lestrade. "Neither do I. Besides, the Secret Service is not the Undead Law. It's mostly a human government. They try to act more human when working for that."
"I just find it funny a vampire uses a flying machine," the pilot finally laughed. "Alright, it's getting late, so we should head back." He turned around in a wide circle, partly going over the sea to follow the Thames back to London.
As the helicopter swung around, it shuddered ominously. "What's that?" Donovan yelped.
"Air pocket," the pilot replied. "We're fine. Don't worry."
"Just get us on the ground," Lestrade said, clinging onto something for dear life.
"This is why we do a lot of flying in training," the pilot teased them. "To get you used to the machine's movements. Soon, you'll be leaning out the open door."
"Let's make that one later," Donovan gulped, keeping her eyes firmly ahead on the land.
Unfortunately, that moment would be neither sooner or later. It ended up happening now. The helicopter choked again, this time tilting sideways. "What the ... ?" The pilot gasped, attempting to straighten it out. The tail swung around so that the machine appeared to fly backwards for a moment, then tipped forward, nose down. Something popped underneath, tipping the machine sideways & the door on Donovan's side ripped open, along with the belt she had been wearing.
Next thing anyone knew, Donovan was gone.
"SALLY!" Lestrade screamed as the pilot finally righted the machine but it tipped nose forward again & headed downward.
"WHERE IS SHE? WHAT HAPPENED?" The pilot demanded, prepared to make a forced crash landing.
"She's gone! Can you catch her?"
"I can't do anything with this machine except guide it downward!"
"Greg!"
Lestrade put a hand to his ear. "Sally?" He could hear her screaming over the blue tooth as she plunged several thousand feet to her death.
"I really didn't want to die right now!" She sobbed as she fell.
"We're going to try catching you. Stay still!" Lestrade shared a dark look with the pilot. Both knew there was no way to catch her by now even if the helicopter was in perfect working order. Donovan was gone & there was nothing anyone can do about it.
The pilot suddenly yelped. "What's that?" Both looked out the front windows to see a large pale shape streaking down.
Lestrade watched it for a moment as the wings folded along the sides to pick up speed & drop like a falcon. "Sherlock! That's Sherlock. Sally? Sherlock's coming for you!"
"That's Detective Holmes?" the pilot asked.
"Yes. Wings of ice! That's his colour. Every vampire has their own colour," Lestrade said before switching back to the blue tooth. "Sally, you still there? Try not to move! Just fall straight. Let him get you." He watched as Sherlock closed the distance between him & Donovan. The helicopter tipped downward & he soon lost track of the pair in the air.
"Greg, I see him," Sally's voice was still shaky, but she sounded somewhat calmer.
"Just try not to move," Lestrade said. "He'll catch you."
As all three plunged towards the Earth, those in the spinning chopper could catch glimpses of Sherlock closing in on Donovan. The pilot had enough control to land now, but it would be at a place straight under them, not in London. Suddenly, Sherlock spread his wings & neither he or Donovan were seen again by the helicopter.
Donovan felt something come up behind her & a shadow covered her. She felt arms wrap around her chest & suddenly, the planet that had become dangerously close was now pulling away from her. She felt the wing beats on either side as he pulled her up into the clouds, turned pink by the setting sun.
Suddenly, she was thrown upwards out of his arms & for a moment, she floated on her own above a cloud. He caught her again, this time facing her. "Are you alright?" He asked. His wings fluttered back & forth, holding him in place like a hummingbird.
Donovan interlocked her fingers behind his neck & collapsed onto his chest. "That was so scary!" She gasped breathlessly.
"You're alright, now," Sherlock said. "I have you." Her answer was bursting into tears. "Hey, you're in my world, now. The sky really is the limit." It sort of made her laugh, in spite of everything. "The helicopter just landed."
She looked up at him, but he was looking downward, eyes gleaming red. She chanced a glanced down & then wish she hadn't. They were as high as an international plane. She looked sideways to watch his beating wings. "You can see them from this high up?"
"Vampires have eyes like eagles," Sherlock said. "They're fine. I believe Lestrade is kissing the ground, right now."
"Y-Yeah?" Donovan drew in a shaky breath. "Probably something I would like to do."
"As you wish, my lady," Sherlock grinned, exposing the four longer teeth before promptly letting her go.
"WHAT THE HELL?" Donovan screamed, once more falling to Earth.
Sherlock dropped beside her. He flipped around to look up at the sky. "Miss Donovan, I have you. You're safe with me. Just lie back. We have a few minutes." He reached over & turned her to face upward.
"You don't even have you wings open, any more!" Donovan exclaimed.
"I will in a moment," Sherlock replied, unperturbed. "I've done this for thousands of years. We still have about two minutes to just lie back & fall. You'll be fine."
Donovan had no choice but to look into the sky, seeing a fantastic view of the darkening shadows moving in as the sun went down. Stars were starting to come out. Clouds turned a deep purple. She felt his arms come around her from behind once more. He had somehow drifted under her. The dropping feeling vanished as pale wings spread out on either side of her again.
They turned around, now facing downward. The ocean was dark under them, whitecaps sparkling in the last rays of the sun. A few dolphins were racing in the waves. As Sherlock dropped ever closer, Donovan was able to reach out to them. One jumped & her hand passed along its back as it went back down.
The White Cliffs of Dover reared up, tops turned pink by the sun while the rest of them disappeared into darkness. Looking sideways, she could see the stretched out wings, barely moving except for ripples in the membrane between the ridges, similar to how it had been under water. They glided inland. As they neared the Cliffs, Sherlock finally moved the wings in one hard stroke, throwing them both upwards to miss ramming into the edge rising up. As they moved across the land, he flew upwards, high enough to avoid the tallest buildings of London.
Donovan felt herself being tossed again. This time he caught her with one hand under her legs so that she was sitting in his arms. He was hovering again, wings flitting back & forth. A half moon illuminated the pale color. She felt a floating, slow-falling sensation. They were going down slowly, easing into the rooftops of London.
Sherlock gently placed her on a ledge of one of the skyscrapers, then perched beside her. One wing stretched slightly upwards, the ridge points digging in to the mortar under a window. The other wing wrapped around her to keep her from falling. "Welcome to my world," Sherlock spoke softly.
Donovan dared to glance down over the edge of his wing to the lit streets below. "You've got some fantastic views," she admitted. She looked at him, noting the red eyes. The sharp venomous fangs were still showing. "Why did you save me?"
Sherlock seemed confused at that. "Why wouldn't I?"
She sighed heavily. "I'm not all that nice to you."
Sherlock shrugged. "Doesn't mean I want you dead."
"Thank you," she muttered.
"You helped me during my Flying Burn," Sherlock said. "Now I helped you survive a helicopter crash. Call us even."
"Alright," Donovan laughed. They gazed at each other. He was still in his full vampric form. She delicately held on to the sharp edge of the wing as she turned a bit to get more comfortable standing on a ledge. She felt something sticky on one hand & pulled it away. There was a red liquid on her finger tips. His pale coloured wings were streaked with it as well. Yet here he stood with her, still keeping her safe, ignoring the pain he was in.
"I know why you hate me," Sherlock suddenly said.
"I don't hate you," Donovan defended. "I just ... I dunno. You have an attitude."
"So do you," Sherlock returned evenly. She just stared at him. He was right. How could she deny it now?
"That didn't come out right," Donovan said. "Look, maybe we ... we just got off on the wrong foot?"
"Many years ago, I exposed the affair between you & Anderson, in public for all to hear," Sherlock said. "It caused a bit of strife with your cop friends. That is why you don't like me."
"You are a bit of a prick," Donovan complained. "Exposing people like that."
"At the time, I thought it was better people know truth," Sherlock said. "Now, I see that truth doesn't always matter. I've been trying not to say personal things any more. John doesn't like it either when I do that."
"I've noticed you've been keeping your mouth shut more often," Donovan said. "Three thousand years & you're just learning this now?"
"More like unlearning," Sherlock replied. "It was the ancient way."
"Ancient way?"
"I am three thousand years old," Sherlock reminded her. "I lived through many eras. Back then, we told people off."
"Right," Donovan said. "I keep forgetting about your age."
"You would be wise to remember it," Sherlock said. "I'm used to saying things plainly. But in today's world, it is not so. It takes time to unlearn & relearn with every age that comes & goes. Such is the price of death. We constantly have to learn, unlearn, relearn. Constant change & it is hard to keep up. This is one of the main things the Undead Law watches for. Major changes. For example, Enola spent time with a certain group of people barely a hundred years ago. Then, we said Gypsies. Now, it is a slur & we have to change. She has recently changed her online name to 'RomaPrincess', instead."
"I've never thought about that," Donovan said. "Living through Earth's history like that, you must have seen a lot."
"I have."
"Have you worked with whatever you had for police back then, as well?"
"No," Sherlock answered. "I only started that just over a hundred years ago. Before, any deducing games was with my brothers & sister. It didn't really affect the public at the time."
"What got you working on crimes, then?"
Sherlock looked away for a moment, as if thinking. "Do you remember Mycroft had adopted twin girls that died on the Titanic?"
"Emmanuelle & Miriam?"
Sherlock nodded. "We were friends with the family. They had invited everyone over for Christmas one year. The girls were not even a year old, then. The parents were murdered at the party, in their own home."
"Oh!" Donovan gasped. "Is that why Mycroft took the children, then?"
"Sort of," Sherlock said. "He had been wanting children for a while but vampires can not reproduce like you can. Originally, they were to be taken to an orphanage where there was no guarantee that they would be adopted together, if at all."
"They would have split the sisters up?"
"Most likely," Sherlock replied. "None of us liked that idea. So Mycroft got them both back. After Titanic, he forever wished he hadn't. That it would have been better if the girls had been adopted by other families, separately or not. There was nothing we could do to console him. Anyway, that was my first case, solving the murder of their parents. It was personal since the family were friends of ours."
"Did they know you are vampires?"
"The parents did," Sherlock answered. "But we weren't going to tell the girls anything until their eighteenth birthday. But ... well, they didn't even make it to their seventh, really."
"I thought they were seven years old on the Titanic?"
"Their actual birthday was the day Titanic should have docked in New York," Sherlock said. "So barely a few days shy of it. The whole trip was their birthday present & each would have been given those necklaces you saw the other day when they got to New York." He looked down at the streets. "Some birthday present," he said darkly.
"That ship was an accident," Donovan said. "It literally could have happened to anyone."
"I know," Sherlock muttered, still looking into the streets far below. "Do you dance?"
"What?" Donovan took a moment to catch up with the topic change.
"Dance! Do you know how?" He finally looked at her.
"Uh, sort of," Donovan stammered. "Not really good at it."
"We should get down," Sherlock changed the topic once more.
He lifted his wing away from her & she fell off. He swooped down under her. She landed on his back, between the wings. He flew through the streets, just above the power lines for electronic trolleys. She draped her hands over his shoulders to hold around his neck as he turned quickly through the streets, the centrifugal force keeping her firmly against his back.
They went through a back alley & into a run down parking lot where several people stood in groups. Many of of Sherlock's Homeless Network glanced up & gasped in surprise as he passed with someone lying on his back between the wings.
Sherlock flew through some parkland next, swinging around a large fountain, the tip of his left wing cutting into the water, spraying it over the edge. He went upwards & flew across London within minutes, landing on the balcony of a condo at last.
Donovan slipped off, wiping her hands on the thick jacket she had on. Sherlock put his wings away while she tapped the keypad to open the sliding door. Both went inside. The first thing Donovan did was pull off the soaking jacket.
"I guess I shouldn't have landed on your back," Donovan surveyed the gory mess. "Your biggest wounds are where the wings come out of."
"At least vampire blood is sterile to humans," Sherlock said. "It won't hurt you."
"But won't it turn me if it gets into a cut or something?"
"Not at all," Sherlock replied. "You need my venom in your veins for that. It really hurts to be turned, though. I was screaming for an hour after Mycroft bit me."
"I can't even imagine the pain your people go through," She left for a moment to put the jacket into the tub to soak. She came back to find him standing in the living room to wait for her, dressed only in his trousers. The pendant was the only other thing he had. His wings were gone, but he still showed the longer fangs & red eyes. She slowly went up to him. "So why do you want to know if I can dance?"
"Every one hundred seventeen years, the Holmes host the Beltane festival," Sherlock answered. Donovan stared at him. "This is our year. That's why Shane is impossible, right now. He's trying to make everything perfect & it's the first time we host it without Mycroft. It will be at the Holmes castle, up in the Cheviots."
"Beltane?" Donovan echoed. "I didn't think anyone celebrated that, anymore."
"Vampires & Lycans have for thousands of years," Sherlock said. "May I borrow your mobile?" She handed it over. Sherlock took a few moments to find an old waltz. He put the mobile aside to let it play, then took control of Donovan.
"I guess it isn't like the modern stuff kids do today," Donovan said as they slowly moved around the floor.
"No, we're a lot older than that," Sherlock said, twirling her around.
"I'll have to wear a dress," Donovan said. "I'm not much into that, but I might have something hanging in my closet."
"Don't worry about it," Sherlock pulled her along. "I have felt your measurements during this dance. I will send you something appropriate." The music ended & Sherlock held her hand up. He bowed slightly to kiss the top of her hand. "I must warn you," Sherlock said, his red eyes looking up into her face as he hovered over her hand. "Things happen at these festivals. Don't worry about vampires or Lycans jumping on you to turn you. That won't happen without permission, of course. But there is a sort of magic involved. You will see things few humans have."
Donovan realized suddenly, that this would be not only a very formal event but also an ancient one. "Alright," she said as Sherlock finally let her go. "I'll wait for the dress." She glanced at the door as someone knocked.
"That should be Anderson," Sherlock said. "Sherrinford was to let him know I caught you."
Donovan opened the door & sure enough, Anderson was there. "Philip," she gasped. "I'm alright, now."
"Don't ever get into a helicopter, again!" Anderson came in & kissed her for a long moment. He suddenly jumped back. "Oh! Mr. Holmes? Didn't see you."
"Pay me no mind," Sherlock shrugged.
"Er, Shane," Anderson stammered. "Uh, he said you'd be here & that you'd have lost a lot of blood, flying around. He gave me this for you." He held out a bottle.
"Yes, I have, thank you," Sherlock took the bottle & downed half of it in one shot. "Did he invite you?"
"Yes," Anderson said. "An event at your castle?"
"Quite right," said Sherlock, taking another sip. "I expect the both of you will go together. Lestrade will be there as well." He went out to the balcony. The wings came out. "Until then." With a short hop into the air, he took off into the night.