"He's back," says Path.

"Yes, with exquisite timing as always," he says, dropping into the hidden room to deposit his stolen tea. "Should I go away again?"

"Not especially," says Juliet. "They're just going on my shoulderblades, I don't even have to take my shirt all the way off as long as it's hiked up in back and held out of the way."

"In that case, I think I'll make some tea," says Sherlock. "Sorry, you can't have any, there's only the one mug."

"Mug of oolong tea," Amariah says, amused, and one appears, floating before her and steaming gently. She takes it from the air, sips, sets it down, and returns to mixing her bayleaf ink for the first of several planned tattoos.

"Cheat," he accuses fondly.

"Cheating is excellent," returns Amariah. "Juliet, lie down, shirt out of the way - idiotic nudity taboos, does it help that he's seen me naked already? no? all right then -" and when Juliet's shirt is out of the way she begins to paint.

"Whatever else you were going to say before he came back from his tea run I don't particularly care if you say it in front of him," says Juliet.

"I was going to add that he comes highly recommended," says Amariah, painting the stem, "but otherwise I said everything I was going to."

"And I heard all of it from when you mentioned that we slept together," he says, "in case anyone was harbouring illusions on that front."

"Thank you," says Juliet.

Juliet hisses when the ink sinks in, but she does hold still.

Juliet endures four more tattoos, lined up rather attractively from shoulderblade to shoulderblade and well under the neckline of all her shirts. Finally they're all done; she sits up.

"Congratulations on your increased likelihood of living past twenty," says Sherlock.

"Thanks."

"I can put a few spells on your house, too, if you want them," says Amariah. "Probably a good idea to wait until Charlie's at work, though. Walking down the street in a weird outfit is one thing, drizzling substances on the carpet and killing pigeons is another."

"And he would be likely to find you confusing. Although at least he probably won't shoot you."

"...Did he shoot you? Why, what were you doing?"

"He was outnumbered by a mob of demons. I killed most of them and scared off the rest."

"Yes, I imagine he would find that alarming."

"I calmed him down after and there has been no further gunplay," says Juliet.

Sherlock snorts.