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"The details of his methods are often pure fiction, but the basic principles are sound."

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"Look around you, very thoroughly, and finish the puzzle," comments Bella.

Pause.

"What'd you get me for my birthday?"
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"Is it too late and/or too soon to offer you Arthur Mallory's head on a plate?"

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"Both of those things," says Bella.

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He laughs. "All right, then."

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"Didja get me anything? Is there a box hiding in this house somewhere that you were going to give me except that our evening got derailed?"

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"I did, and there is!"

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Is "expectant snuggling" a thing? Because she does that.

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"Shall I go get it?"

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"No, you shall stay right here and summon it by magic."

...

"Unless you'd rather get up. Because you can if you want."
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"Indulge my sense of theatrics," he says, and kisses her cheek, and teleports away, and teleports back a moment later with a totally unnecessary shower of insubstantial sparks, holding out a large round package wrapped in cheerful silvery 'Happy Birfday' wrapping paper.

Judging by size, shape, and weight, he got her a bowling ball.
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Bella smiles at him, sets the present on her lap, and tears into the wrapping paper.

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It is not a bowling ball. It is a sphere of something like glass, perfectly polished, perfectly transparent, absolutely without any kind of flaw.

"You did mention magical artifacts," says Sherlock.
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"It's beautiful - what does it do?" asks Bella, reaching out towards it but not quite touching it lest she leave fingerprints.

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"If you hold it in both hands and look into it, it will show you something that you will find useful to whatever degree you understand it. No guarantees about the understanding it part, which is why I was able to get it on eBay for a pittance."

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"eBay?" giggles Bella. "There are working crystal balls on eBay? That's hilarious, how did you know it wasn't a fake? And the something - is it supposed to be past things, possible futures, present things, metaphors, some mix?"

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"Any or all of the above. I traced its history, of course. And when it arrived it very helpfully showed me all the parts I couldn't verify for myself."

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"Oh, that's nice of it. Hello, friendly crystal ball," she says, cupping it in her hands.

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An image begins to form in its depths.

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If this isn't the Watcher's Council, then there are two organizations of crusty and overwhelmingly British men running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Bella spends a pentagon to learn to read lips and watches them.

"I think this is happening now," she murmurs. "I think they're freaking out because Arthur hasn't called and they don't know if I'm dead - that one thinks I must be alive because they still, heh, can't find the Slayer, and it would just be impossible for two in a row to have my, heh, little problem..."
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"Ooh, what fun," says Sherlock.

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She giggles and sets the crystal ball down. "That's really neat. And it's not even redundant with mint powers; they're not so good at information. Thank you."

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"I do try," he says brightly.

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"I love you," she grins. "You're awesome."

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He laughs and hugs her.

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