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[thewarningafter]

1107 Sweet Cream Street

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[thewarningafter]

He'll probably notice that part.

[Just a mild little comment. Sherlock was so vehemently opposed to the beard before that he can't imagine it'll go without comment. The trousers are found and tossed to join the tabard, but he hesitates a second.]

You'll have to get the boots from me that day.

[howdull]

Don't you have any other boots?

[Having just one pair of boots seems to be an oversight to someone who's usually dressed so fancily that he looks like he's stepped out of a fantasy film.

He's going to ignore the concern about John noticing his growing facial hair, he'll find a way around it.]

[thewarningafter]

Money was a little tight in Nepal.

[And he still hasn't gotten around to wishing for extras. Bad enough he had to wish for a replacement when he got high and fried one of his boots in a magic experiment.]

[howdull]

I have numerous pairs of boots, you can have a couple of mine.

[It's just offered in an offhand way. He doesn't wear most of them, and they're obviously the same size.]

[thewarningafter]

...Sure.

[Stephen looks surprised for a moment. He didn't take Sherlock for the giving sort.]

Look, just take them, I'll figure something else out.

[howdull]

Why do you need to figure something else out? I just told you to take some of mine, problem solved.

[It's not an offer made out of generosity. But much like he never cared if John needed his money for things, he doesn't particularly see much point in not giving away possessions if people need them and he doesn't.]

[thewarningafter]

[He does laugh at that, a brief huff not entirely unlike a sound Sherlock might make.]

Alright. What've you got? I don't really wear dress shoes anymore.

[howdull]

Several pairs of boots, some trainers, some standard dress shoes. You can let yourself in and take your pick when you like.

[He really doesn't care, they're just material possessions.]

So. The cloak, you need to persuade it to sit on my shoulders.

[thewarningafter]

Shouldn't be too hard. Like I said, it can sit on your shoulders or it can stay home, and I know it won't want me out of its sight.

[So saying, he reaches up to swing his cloak off his shoulders...and ends up just tugging at it a few times as it stays resolutely attached to him.]

[howdull]

[One eyebrow raises in amusement, before he addresses the cloak directly.]

I am loaning my Heart for the occasion, surely you are not implying that Stephen is so pitiful as to be incapable without your protection for the evening?

[thewarningafter]

[Another tug. It remains resolutely where it is -- implying that yes, it does think so.]

Oh, come on!

[Stephen pauses, eyes narrowing in thought. Time to taunt his clothing, see if that helps.]

Or maybe you're afraid of Sherlock? Can't be.

[howdull]

Perhaps it must be, I suppose it would be intimidating to sit on the shoulders of a genius.

[Sorry, Stephen, as accomplished a doctor as he is, Sherlock doesn't think of him as a fellow genius.]

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen shoots him a glare, because which of them is both a neurosurgeon and a sorcerer, again?]

Or it's worried it's going to be obligated to protect you the next time you get stabbed in the back. Which it's not, by the way.

[Sherlock's words are what finally gets Levi to let go and let Stephen swing it off his shoulders. Rather than waiting for Sherlock to reach for it, though, the cloak slips around behind the detective to attach itself to his back, seeming somehow to project the impression that it's sulking all the while. It's warm and heavy, and there's a certain tension across his shoulders where it lies.]

[howdull]

[He sniggers as the sulking cloak settles around his shoulders, folding his fingers into the cloth experimentally.]

Come now, you and I can get along for this one evening, don't be so childish.

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen's eyes remain narrowed, but he doesn't comment -- this was his idea and he'll see it through even if Sherlock is being a prick to his relic.]

It won't be used to being told who to be with. Relics choose their owners, not the other way around.

[howdull]

It's an interesting concept, this sentience, where does it come from? The cloak has nowhere to hide a brain, so how are such decisions made?

[He wants to take it apart and find out.]

[thewarningafter]

Uh, magic?

[It's a true answer, but he knows it's a cop-out.]

The whole point of relics is that they house power a human can't handle channeling directly.

[howdull]

Can't you reverse engineer the magic to properly analyse it?

[He doesn't particularly like magic, but he's determined to understand it all the same.]

[thewarningafter]

If I knew how to do that, don't you think I would have made twenty or thirty relics by now? This is high level stuff.

[howdull]

Teach me magic, I'll be able to work it out once I have the basics.

[Said with utter and complete self confidence.]

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen actually snorts in amusement.]

Uh...no thanks. I've seen what you get up to without access to magic.

[howdull]

Perhaps the application of magic will teach much needed discipline.

[Not.]

[thewarningafter]

...No, it's not going to do that.

You have everything you need, then? For the costume.

[howdull]

I suppose so. A magic book might complete the ensemble.

[He will never give up.]

[thewarningafter]

Oooh, too bad I don't have any.

[So sorry, Sherlock. His life is real hard like that.]