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"It really is for the case, John. That I look fabulous in it is entirely beside the point."
"And the riding crop?"
"Common accessory at the clubs our killer frequents. Besides ..."
Swish. Flick.
ZAP!
Sherlock's hex took out a lamp on the dresser before blasting yet another hole in the wall, opposite the Royal Insignia made with bullets one night when the bored Consulting Mage had gotten an urge to experiment with firearms and "borrowed" John's pistol.
"What better way to disguise a wand?"
The long suffering Doctor snatched up a broom and swept the debris while his pretty Princess preened in the mirror. No hiding the state of the wallpaper, or the missing lamp. He sighed. Fairy godmother or not, Mrs Hudson was going to kill them.
*******
