"Oh, I see."

"For that matter, if you want to make a serious study of local magic, the person who can come up with a functional permanent sunlight ward in two hours is probably a better teacher than an unattended library if they are capable of teaching at all."

"Point taken."

"Anyway. I am thirsty and would like to spend the first part of our two-hour wait stealing blood from a butcher's shop."

"Should I supervise you so the Slayer doesn't hold me responsible if you have a sudden lapse of judgment?"

"Up to you. It's not necessary, but I won't mind."

"Well, I don't have anything else to do anyway." She flutters into the air to follow him.

He locates the back entrance of a butcher's shop, picks the lock, enters, and raids their supply of animal blood.

All very neat and tidy and nonmurderous.

Sherlock glances at them and snorts.

"What?"

"I think I've seen that fellow around before. Mind if I stop for a chat?"

"I don't see why not."

They're pretty well occupied, but during a break in the proceedings one of them turns around to call out at him, "Hey! Find your own alley, we're busy here!"

"I don't think I know you," the blond one says dubiously. "And hey, rude. We were having fun here."

"Now look what you've done," complains the blond.

"I've got extra," he says helpfully, hefting the paper bag containing two more containers of blood.

"Ugh, that is so not the point."

"I suppose I could also compensate you for other losses, if you insist."

He eyes Tea for a moment and then says, "...Maybe."

"I think you're right, we haven't met before. I'm Sherlock," he offers.