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sherlock holmes

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Sally is feeling more optimistic about the Loki situation. It may not necessarily be under control, but it's become much more manageable. The eggs are fine and she will see to it they stay that way.

She wonders how long they'll need protection after they hatch. With both a god and Milliways involved, it's not quite as simple as just looking it up.

Right now, though, she's at the Bar, reading an answer to one of her notes and eating a well-earned dinner.

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The front door opens, then closes again.

Sherlock becomes perceptible halfway across the room, not in an especial hurry but walking with customary briskness. It's annoying to keep having to dodge people; Milliways is more crowded than the street outside. And Jim isn't here, so Sally is currently the most interesting person in the room by a good margin.

"Hello," he says. "Any news?" Asking is polite, isn't it?

"Evening."

It doesn't seem that abrupt to her, since it isn't all that long ago she last saw him, and she'd hardly begrudge him the right to a bit of abruptness in this situation, anyway.

In short: yes, asking is polite.

"He's been caught," she says. "Been in the cells for a few days now by Milliways time. It's not considered safe to release him for the moment."

"I probably ought to visit him," he says with mild distaste.

"And the rest?"

"He might appreciate a semi-friendly face," she says. It is, more or less, agreement.

"Your siblings are fine, too." Will be fine? Are eggs proper siblings yet? "There was a bit of difficulty with an overly enthusiastic recruit on his recapture, but it won't happen again."

She won't let it.

"A bit of difficulty," Sherlock repeats.

"Do you care to elaborate?"

"One of the only ways to handle a god who's causing trouble is to bring in another god," she says. "One of my colleagues picked one who's a bit trigger-happy. When it became clear Loki was protecting something in the lake, he started taking pot shots. Didn't do any damage, but he didn't do much for Loki's interest in cooperating, either."

To put it mildly.

"Loki wouldn't tell anyone what was down there. None of us knew till you told me." That's not a justification, nor is it a condemnation of Loki's refusal to divulge the information. Her tone and expression are neutral, but her disapproval of the events she's relating isn't too far from the surface.

"Well that's delightful," Sherlock says dryly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she says.

"Considering who we're talking about here and how many people he's pissed off, I thought it would be best to keep a guard on the lake either till Loki's released or till your siblings can fend for themselves, whichever comes first."

At this point, she's betting on the baby squid.

"You interested in helping out?"

A slight hesitation—

"Potentially, yes."

"Potentially?"

She pauses for a bite of dinner.

"Anything I can do to sway your choice?" After the conversations with Loki, she can't help but see this as something of a negotiation as well.

He shakes his head. "Guarding things is not my area of expertise. If there are better qualified candidates, I'd rather not. If there aren't, I certainly will. That's all."

Sally nods. The ability to judge one's own capabilities realistically is one she approves of.

"All right," she says. "I'll put you on the backup list then, shall I?"

"Please do."

Being polite feels weird. Being polite has always felt weird. But he has plenty of excellent reasons to be polite to Sally, so it can just go on feeling weird.

"I apologize for this even being necessary," she says. "I almost hope this isn't your first encounter with Security. It's not much of a first impression."

With Loki being as aggressively hostile as he has been, it was indeed crucial to make sure he hadn't left any kind of trap or otherwise dangerous object in the lake, but there were better ways to go about it. This is hardly the first time the lake's needed searching.

"I'm afraid it was, yes, but considering how we met, on the whole I can't say that I mind."

The corner of her mouth quirks up.

"Yeah, you're looking intact and fully sanguinated," she says. "I take it you've managed to survive the rest of your evening?"

He smiles slightly in return.

"Yes; it's been a few days. Nor have I been assaulted by any more vampires since."

"Glad to hear it," she says.

"Though I have to admit, I am a bit curious about what would happen to a vampire that managed to drink any of your blood."

Aside from paternal vengeance, should said paternal vengeance ever manage to get itself pardoned.

"Depending how upset I was at the time, it might not be pretty. I can get very cold. Vampires are susceptible to freezing."

"Beats one of them accidentally ending up overpowered 'cos they got their breakfast off a demigod."

Sally has very little sympathy for vampires. It's in the job description.

He snorts. "That it does. I wonder if that's why the one you killed was so keen."

"They usually are," she says musingly. "He definitely had an edge to him, though. No fighting skills, either. Shouldn't have taken as long as it did for me to dust him. They're always more trouble when they've found a target they're really excited about."

"Well, that's heartening," Sherlock says dryly.

"Least he didn't get a chance to tell anyone else about you," she points out.

"Anyway, you must've inherited something useful from your father. Maybe it's time you learn to use it."

"...There are complications," he says.

She raises an eyebrow.

"Worth risking your neck over?"

Or whichever other part a vampire might get its teeth into.

"No?"

He doesn't sound like he believes it.

Sally gives him her best I am a police officer and I already know everything, so you may as well tell me look.

It's one she happens to excel at. Being a Slayer into the bargain doesn't hurt.

He sighs.

"My brother. Mycroft Holmes. You probably haven't heard of him. He has some very extreme ideas about what constitutes brotherly protectiveness, and he mercilessly abuses his position in the government to carry them out. I have been trying to avoid giving him any reason to think I can do magic."

Now that sounds like someone she'd expect to be the son of Loki.

But:

"So he doesn't know who your father is?"

There's no reason to assume they share a father. For all Sally knows, Loki pulled that wear your husband's face and sneak into your bed trick randy gods across the pantheons seem to love so much.

She shakes her head. "Sorry, stop me if I'm getting too personal." This is not actually an interrogation.

"I have no idea if he knows who our father is. It's likelier that he doesn't, I think. Mother never told us."

Clearly she hasn't gotten too personal yet.

"You found out here."

Call it a wild shot in the dark.

Or possibly a basic awareness of how Milliways tends to work.

"Yes."

Surprise.

"Speaking of," she says, "I don't know if he's worked out where I found out about your siblings or not. Your name hasn't come up at all. I haven't mentioned we share a reality, either."

There were more important issues at hand. And if she should fail in keeping the eggs safe, she'd just as soon not have Loki know exactly where to find her.

"I am not planning to mention that either," offers Sherlock.

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