Shoot That Poison Arrow

"No I still don't get it... you know how to shoot an bow but not a gun?" John said. Karen and Sherlock groaned simultaneously.

"Look John... I've explained this three times." Karen groaned, pinching her nose. "I went to a renaissance faire as a young girl, tried archery, enjoyed it and took it up as a hobby. And I've never tried to shoot a gun, so yes I can shoot a bow but not a gun... Ok?" she said turning on John.

John was silent for a moment, looking past Karen and Sherlock's head to watch London pass them. Karen looked at Sherlock from the corner of her eye and shook her head exasperated.

"No still not with you... a bow and arrow? You keep a bow and arrow in your house instead of a gun?" John asked again. Karen groaned again, wanting to hit Sherlock for discovering her weapon behind the sofa and promptly telling John

"Look this is the point of today isn't it! For me to learn how to shoot and put your mind to rest..." she snapped, turning away from him. The cabbie looked at the group in the back of his cab, John staring at Sherlock, Karen huffing and staring out the window and Sherlock laughing hysterically in between them.

Sherlock looked over at Karen who was looking equally terrified/ excited as the man handed her the handgun. Her hand dropped slightly as the full weight, went into her hand.

"Now do you have a licensed shooter with you, ma'am?" the man, who was really nothing more than a boy, said. He looked suspicious as Karen blanched and turned to look for John. He appeared to have disappeared.

"Urm... I did have" she joked, trying to make light of the situation. The teenager frowned.

"Well miss, I can't let you out with a gun without a licensed shooter with you... oh thank you sir!" he said as Sherlock thrust his licence under the boy's nose. Karen looked at him relieved.

"Thank you sir, have a nice day" he called at the two, his American accent more prominent with the familiar saying.

"Thank you." Karen chuckled. Sherlock looked down at her.

"This is typical John at a shooting range. He dragged me to one; after I innocently shot the wall and he disappeared on me... it soon became evident that I needed to get my own license. I'll talk to him later." He remarked. Karen laughed again at the mental image of Sherlock walking around the range, guns everywhere but unable to shoot them.

"It's ok... There's a reason I said to come to this particular one... You'll find out later" she said, as he looked down at her interested.

They arrived at their booth. As she didn't have a licence, Sherlock would have to be with her at all times. Damn rules, he thought sarcastically.

Silently he laid Karen's borrowed gun on the table, motioning for her to sit down. He drew out his own pistol, loading it with ease. It had annoyed John no end that; not only could Sherlock legally own a gun but like most things was much better at shooting than him.

Karen watched in wonder, red headphones over ears, clashing horribly with the bright green goggles she had on, as Sherlock lined up his shot. He had removed his coat and she could see every line of his body, every muscle as it tensed and relaxed in preparation.

Her eyes roamed over his body, she watched his back rise and fall as he breathed in and out. He was more muscle than she'd first thought his arms firm and shown off to fall advantage with his rolled up sleeves and tensed posture. She found her eyes roving over the s shaped curve of his lower back and further down. Karen raised an eyebrow and made a mental note to hide Sherlock's coat when they got home. And to get him to wear those jeans more often. She continued staring oblivious to his actions.

His flinger only inclined ever so slightly. The gun roared as the first bullet flew from it, Karen distracted squeaked and clasped the headphones over her ears. Sherlock looked at his embarrassed companion and wondered what could have caused her to flush so brilliantly red. He shook his head and turned back to the target contemplating the strange ways of women. He shot again, this time Karen managed not to squeak quite so loudly. This continued, Karen watching Sherlock as aimed and shot a whole round of bullets into the waiting target.

He removed his headphones and pressed a button. The target moved forward and he smirked as he counted up his points.

"256/300 in 6 bullets" Karen whispered impressed. Sherlock turned, to find her on tiptoes peering over her shoulder.

"Your go... Miss Johnson" he whispered, a smile on his lips. Karen gulped and stepped forward. She reached for her borrowed gun but found Sherlock's hand stopping hers.

"Try with mine... lighter, easier to shoot" he said handing her his pistol. She grasped it with both hands.

"One hand" he muttered, gently pulling away her left hand. She let her left hand, fall and raised the gun. She shot it and winced as the bullet embedded itself into the wall behind the target. Sherlock laughed.

"Right, now I'll show you how to do it... properly." He said moving behind her. Karen flushed as she felt, his leg go between hers and gently nudge them apart. He turned her so her left side was facing the target. Karen wiggled and moved her weight onto her back leg. Her archery stance she remembered fondly.

"Turn, so you're left legs in front... that's it" he whispered. Karen closed her eyes. She could feel Sherlock's body behind hers, his warm breath tickling her neck as he spoke. She knew if she turned her lips would be level with his, she would only have to lean forwar-

"Raise... the gun Karen." His voice came, jolting her from her fantasy. She cleared her throat and raised it quickly. His hand pushed the gun back down.

"Slowly..." he drawled, his voice even closer to her ear. He moved closer, his spare arm encircling her waist, fingers spread on her stomach. Together they slowly raised the gun until it was lined up with the target.

"Breathe in..." he whispered in her ear. Karen took a deep breath, letting it out in ragged gasps.

"And another... and this time hold it" he continued. Karen breathed in again.

"And squeeze gently... now"

Karen's fingers directed by Sherlock's squeezed the trigger. The gun boomed and Karen leapt backwards, only to be stopped by Sherlock holding her tighter.

"Wow" she whispered huskily. Sherlock smiled and took the gun from her. He turned to reload, before spinning to meet Karen again. He stepped back into their position, smiling as Karen pulled his arm around her stomach.

"Again" he called.

John stared as he saw Karen; both eyes wide open, shooting masterfully at the target alongside Sherlock.

Karen didn't flinch as the bullet flew from the gun and the only interaction between the two was when their eyes met over the table with the bullets on.

"She's a natural John... better than me and you." Sherlock called, turning around to face him. He peered in the chamber before stowing it deep into his inside pocket.

"And I'll tell you something else boys... I can beat you at something else." Karen said firing her last shot from the borrowed gun and placing it as instructed in the pocket on the side of the booth.

She walked towards John, smiling at him over her shoulder. The teenager from earlier glanced up as she walked towards him.

"I need one 170 cm preferably made of lemon wood..." she looked over her shoulder at the two men standing behind her.

"I would think a 187 for the taller gentlemen and a 172 for him" she said pointing at John. "And preferably a harder wood for the 172... He's quite clumsy with his weapons"

The teenager snorted. "Yes I know ma'am... I saw him with his gun". They both laughed.

"Anyway... they'll be delivered outside when you get there, enjoy yourself ma'am" he said to her. Karen thanked him and turned to the men.

"Outside then boys" she said smiling.

Sherlock looked at John as Karen tutted and refastened the wrist straps on John's arm.

"I said over then under... not over then under! And yes it does matter!" she snapped when she saw John open his mouth to protest. Sherlock fixed his silently not wanting to face the wrath of Karen.

There was a thump as a man approached them, dropping three long cases onto the floor. Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he saw the typically tall, dark and handsome man's eyes roam over Karen.

"You must be Karen" he said, with a European accent.. Dark haired, eyes same, tanned skin... Italian possibly , Sherlock concluded.

Karen nodded, non-perpluxed.

"Yeah... I'm Karen." Karen answered, shaking his hand. Obviously... did he see another woman there? Sherlock thought.

"I am Antonio" he said in his thick accented voice. Defiantly Italian.

Karen made a small 'o' sound.

"Nice to meet you... this is Sherlock and John" she said, waving her arm at the person in turn.

"Pleasure" Antonio sneered never taking his eyes off Karen. Sherlock didn't like him. Neither did Karen it seemed.

"So Antonio... if it's alright with you, I'll partner with Sherlock and you go with John." She said grasping the shortest and the longest of the three cases. She turned to Sherlock and smiled. Antonio was not giving up that easily.

"Well... Karen I must insist as the instructor that the most experienced of you goes with your Sherlock, and I will go with the least experienced." He proclaimed, looking Karen up and down again.

"Yes... that's exactly what I'm doing. As far as I'm aware neither have done any archery before and I was the 16- 25 British champion in 1998. I think I qualify as the most experienced out of us three... ergo I will go with Sherlock." She corrected, turning and pulling Sherlock to the furthest target.

"Poor John" she said as soon as they were out of earshot. Sherlock looked back to find that Antonio was still staring at Karen's retreating figure and John was standing awkwardly behind him.

"We'll get him over here in a minute... we don't need a sodding instructor." She grumbled, dumping the quiver full of arrows on the ground. She unzipped the case she was holding and pulled out a yellow tinted longbow, she gasped.

"Oh! This is just like the one I won with" she whispered balancing the bow on her fingers. Sherlock watched her in confusion as he unzipped the longer case. It was far longer than her one, obviously more suited to a taller man, such as him.

This one however was made of a deep brown- almost black wood that glinted in the sunlight. He turned it over in his hands, looking at the small streaks of lighter wood in it.

"So you really were British champion? You didn't just say that to get rid of Antonio" he asked still looking at his bow. Karen tore her eyes from the bow and hummed at him. He repeated the question and she laughed at his second comment.

"Yes. I was British champion at 17. I was on my way to the top and then..." her voice faltered.

"Well you know what happened next" she said sadly, shaking her head. She bent down and picked an arrow with a light coloured fletching on it. She strung it and looked at Sherlock.

"Haven't shot since then" she muttered pursing her lips. She raised the bow to eyelevel and drew herself to her full height, her back straight. Breathing in, she released the arrow. The bow twanged and the arrow shot almost as quickly as the bullets from the gun earlier. It struck right into the middle of the target. Antonio, John and Sherlock, all stared at her shocked. She beamed and lowered the bow.

"Still got it" she whispered. She turned to Sherlock.

"Your go... Mr Holmes" she said, echoing his words from the shooting range. Sherlock raised his eyebrows at her and stepped forward taking her place on the green.

"Stand the same way you would when you fire a gun" she said from beside him. Sherlock turned to his left, his left foot in front, most of his weight on his back foot.

"Right now, point the bow down... and here's the arrow... I'll load it for you" she continued, leaning over to do just that. She patted his arm and Sherlock raised it up slightly.

"Three fingers... like this" she said. With these words, she gently took his hand and took his index finger and placed it above the arrow, his middle and ring finger stayed beneath. She folded his thumb and little finger down. She stood back and looked at him. In the background she could see Antonio going through the same things with John. She dragged her eyes back to Sherlock who was standing expectantly.

"Yes that's right... now in one motion raise the bow and draw it backwards towards your chin" She said moving towards him. Sherlock raised the bow and drew it the string backwards with his fingers. She gently patted his elbow, raising it to be at a right angle.

Sherlock squirmed as she placed a hand on his stomach telling him to stand up taller. Normally he would have come back with some witty reply but he was concentrating so hard. Tiny beads of sweat were appearing on his brow and his eyes were focused on the middle of the target. Karen took a step back and surveyed him. She nodded and Sherlock released the bow. He fell forward slightly from the motion of the arrow, none of Karen's practiced finesse. The arrow flew forward and embedded itself into the black part of the target.

Sherlock was momentarily disappointed before he saw John's first attempt sail into the ground before reaching the target. Karen saw this as well, and snorted from behind him. She took a step forward, offering him another arrow.

"Again" she whispered, eyes glinting.

SORRY ITS FLUFF AGAIN! Kind off... I promise next chapter the angst will restart so please get yourselves ready for a bumpy ride...