Sherlock had always seemed odd, that much John was sure of. What he didn't know was when he had started suspecting that there was something more, something not human to his flatmate. Sure, Donovan liked to call Sherlock a freak, but that was just the woman's reaction to being rubbed the wrong way. And for all of Sherlock's peculiarities, the lightning fast deductions, the emotional distance, the way he looked at you and you felt somehow that there wasn't a thing about you that he didn't know, they were all within the limits of humanity. A strange human, for sure, but human, flesh and blood, all the same. Right?

Now, John wasn't so sure. The feeling of strangeness, of something not quite right had always been there- how could it not, with Sherlock striding dramatically into his life, his coat-tails streaming behind him? That feeling had been there since the beginning, the instinct in the recesses of his mind, the inner voice telling John- danger, predator, stay away. John had brushed it aside, telling himself his nerves were just shot after returning from Afghanistan. After a while, the feeling went away, and John was sure he was right- there was nothing to worry about, well aside from the hazard of being beat up, shot, and dumped in an alley that comes with running around with Sherlock.

There were times when the feeling had re-surfaces, like at that odd half-growl Sherlock made in the back of his throat that seemed to reverberate far more than one would think possible. Or when his eyes would flash with a predatory glint whenever someone got to close to John. Or when he'd stare a criminal down with eyes that promised pain and fire, and hurt. Or when he stood on top of the hospital, and it seemed he would fly. (no, don't think about that)

And now all those instances came flooding back to John as he stares in shock at the towering mass of scales as dark as night, as dark as Sherlock's unruly mop of hair. The beast was huge, it's head awkwardly arched downwards so as to avoid crashing into the ceiling. With a grumble, it-he settled back into a sitting position, his tail (tail!) wrapped around his legs, almost like a cat. He certainly had the regal air of a cat. "Dear Lord, Sherlock!" John exclaimed, "You're a dragon."

The dragon- Sherlock rolled his eyes, an annoyed expression flashing across his reptilian face, "Yes, obviously."