“I’m fine,” Zepheera insisted.
John raised an eyebrow at her, kneeling by
the kitchen counter for a closer look at the tiny woman. “Are you sure? No
offense, but if Sherlock wasn’t careful, he could have easily hurt you–”
“I was careful!” Sherlock
contended, still pouting in the corner while trying not to seem like it. John
rolled his eyes, but looked back at Zepheera for confirmation.
Zepheera sighed. If she had been hurt
by Sherlock, even just slightly bruised, any damage done would have healed by
now. But she dared not tell John that, a medical man who had already proclaimed
that she was an impossibility.
“Look, I’m okay, really. See?” She
prodded at her ribs, which had been the most vulnerable in Sherlock’s grip, and
moved on to the rest of her undamaged limbs. “No bruised or broken ribs,
arms and legs intact, joints unstrained. I’m fit as a fiddle. No need
She trailed off and gestured vaguely to the
human’s hands, hovering nearby in preparation to help. John looked down at
them, realizing how large they looked to her, and self-consciously pulled them
back to his middle. “Right. Sorry…”
Zepheera wrung her hands, glancing between
John and Sherlock. “So. You’re a doctor?” she asked John. Of all
the cruel coincidences in the universe…
John blinked at her question. “Uh, yeah.
Yes, I am Doctor John Watson.”
She regretted asking as her heart ached,
desperate once again to get back to her own Doctor. And while she thought this
Watson chap would probably help her if she asked, she still advised herself
against jumping into that too quickly. The look in his eyes told her that he
was just as curious as Sherlock. He just hid it better.
“I’m Zepheera,” she replied.
A whole new level of awe leaked through in
John’s expression, and he stared at her for a moment as his perception of
reality was twisted. Somehow, putting a name to the impossibly tiny person made
her all too real. He stood with a sharp intake of breath and wandered away from
her, toward the living room. He paced back and forth for a bit, running his
hands down his face and scratching the back of his head, until his gaze fell
back on Zepheera who was staring up at him with concern.
“Are you okay?” she asked at
John froze, the shock hitting him all over
again. Then he chuckled, forcing a smile as he swung his arms back and forth to
release some of the confused tension in his shoulders.
“Just trying not to lose my mind,”
he admitted, glancing at Sherlock for some level of sanity.
Now there was a troubling thought.