impetuous_force | and every hand shall wield the angels' swords of flame

The lasers hit the market. The first ones are expensive; the USADI buys them all. The next batch is larger, mostly made in China, and cheaper thanks to economies of scale. They take triple-A's, and they're such a hot item that several battery companies compete for inclusion with the weapons.

Bella uses one of the ones that Sherlock gave her and pretends she bought it with the money her father gave her to pick one up. She can always use a little more untracked cash to buy magic things.

Her newt skeleton comes in.

She casts every part of the spell except the final act of will, which she can do any time, anywhere - the spell was effectively on her, to turn her into someone who can at whim destroy the Gem of Amara. She doesn't do it. Sherlock's harmless, and he still - apparently, given that he shows up at school - has the gem.

She can, sort of, trust him. Mint oil and divination lens, useful things.

She's not sure she can forgive him, but she doesn't have to forgive him to not want him to die.

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"Still alive." She sighs. "Look, this - vaguely hostile circling thing can't be very interesting for you and I don't want you dead, what would be interesting?"

"I'm sorry, it's just uncomfortable to talk to you knowing you dislike me, and for such excellent reason."

"You weren't thinking very long-term when you accosted me, were you."

"On a number of counts, no," he says. "I also, as I believe I've mentioned, didn't know what effect I was having on you. You seemed to be reacting much as I would have, and I've never seen the threat of death as anything more than an annoying inconvenience."

"Acting like a gibbering incompetent wouldn't have accomplished anything and I had the self-possession available to spend on not doing it. Internally I was screaming. I thought you noticed everything."

"I notice plenty. I'm not a bloody telepath," he sighs. "The insides of other people's heads have always been my major blind spot."

"Thank goodness," she shivers, "that would have me externally screaming in a jiffy. I didn't think I was a particularly good actress, though."

"I could tell you were having a physiological fear reaction but I have those too and they don't mean much to me."

"It wasn't just that. I get that on roller coasters, I get it a little talking to you just now even though I trust my spell more than my gut - I also believed you were likely to hurt me and I'm whatever the opposite of suicidal is."

Edited 2013-05-27 00:55 (UTC)

"Well - I'm sorry," he says.

She peers at him.

"You said before that you'd say you were sorry, but you'd be lying."

"Before," he reminds her, "I didn't know how upset you were, or that I cared."

"How would you not know if you cared?"

"I hadn't thought about it. The entire chain of reasoning failed to occur to me."

"That sounds embarrassing."

"Yes."

She leans on a wall. She tucks her potion sage into the box from her mother's new laser pointer that she picked out of the trash to pretend it was hers. "It helps that you're sorry."

"That's good to know."

"Heh. I wonder if I could teach you to do what I do. Then you wouldn't have this problem with unpleasant surprises."

"What you do being...?"

"I think about myself. A lot. I figure out who's driving this thing." She taps her temple. "I determine what I want and what I have and how to use what I have to get what I want."

"And exactly what problem do you expect this to solve?"

"I would never, unless deprived of privacy or paper for a long time, fetch up unexpectedly finding myself caring about somebody. And if I decided I definitely didn't want to, I could probably stop, although maybe it wouldn't be wise for me to teach you that bit."

"I am fairly accomplished at introspection already and I don't think I have enough data points to accurately predict who I am going to start caring about when or why."

"I suppose that would present a problem. That doesn't mean you couldn't see it coming once it was underway."

(no subject)

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