Stirring in Darkness

Of all the things that John would have expected his flatmate Sherlock to be doing when he arrived home with their shopping; having a "wizard's duel" was not very high on his list.

But as he and Sherlock ducked under the kitchen table as the latter sent a bolt of charged blue lighting at their assailant, it seemed rather that it was indeed really happening. A wet squelch from came from above their heads and white liquid dripped into Sherlock's black and statically charged curls. John's mouth fell open with frustration and anger.

"BASTARD –spilt my milk!" he growled at the man who was currently summoning what appeared to be a tiny, Baker Street sized lightning storm in response to Sherlock's previous attack. Sherlock chuckled under his breath, swearing in alarm as a huge bolt hit the wooden cupboard above their heads. He retaliated sending a fireball in the man's direction, repeating the previous curse as the man sent it rebounding back in their direction.

"Right- right- so he can summon lightning, control fire and water- which leaves..." Sherlock pursed his lips for a moment as a grin crept over his face. Raising his hands like a barrier, he stepped into open fire.

John was about to scream in alarm, but Sherlock sent a whoosh of controlled air to his foe, sucking the air out of everything in close proximity to him, but thankfully sending the man sprawling on his back. Sherlock ran forward, pinning the man to the floor with his foot, leaving the man squirming under him.

"You shouldn't have come- go back to your master and tell him that next time he wants to try to kill me- send someone with more experience and power to do the job" Sherlock hissed, his face contracting into an evil and heart stopping stare. The man nodded, his breath leaving him as Sherlock sucked the air from his very lungs, sinking into unconsciousness mere minutes later.

Sherlock teleported him with a flick of his hand, a look of genuine disgust and disappointment on his face. It was then he seemed to remember that John was still there. He span on his foot, facing his flatmate who was gently poking the sodden remains of his destroyed carrier bag.

He faced Sherlock, blinking in surprise. Sherlock tensed, preparing for the onslaught, the screaming, the running from the flat, the call to Mycroft, the memory wipe as they held John terrified of the two of them in place, the dazed look as the memories of this day and Sherlock disappeared from his mind and the relocation of John, up to Scotland it would be for him.

John took a step forward, a hand on his lips and his eyes on the floor as he continued in his path towards the detective, until they were directly face to face.

"Did I hit my hea-" " No John, that was very real." Sherlock interjected stony faced. John's mouth fell open in a perfect "o".

"So... you're a wizard?" he said so very slowly. Sherlock nodded, matching John's snail-like pace. Any second, any second now he would begin screaming.

John let out a sigh and Sherlock flinched as his mouth opened once more, preparing himself for the screams that were sure to come.

"Is that why you always know where I am?" John said, causing Sherlock to frown, blinking at him in surprise.

"Among other reasons... I must say, your taking this very well, most people would have run screaming by now" Sherlock said, still not quite sure if he was going to bolt or not. John shrugged, his eyes totally indifferent.

"Well- I've walked in on you doing weirder things with your experiments, to be quite honest- now we need more milk don't we?" John said, matter of fact, grabbing Sherlock's card and his keys to the flat, leaving the man himself confused and perplexed by the whole situation.