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"I don't," says Sherlock, not that the other one doesn't know that. "But this stray Tony has kindly installed a Jarvis in a spare house that Juliet's Watcher bought us."

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"You're a Slayer?" he says to Juliet.

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"Yep," says Juliet, tossing her hair. "But my template, when we appear in magical worlds, has this tendency to resist all forms of mental intrusion, up to and including the prophetic dreams and the vampire-sensing in my case. So I'm like four-fifths of a Slayer."

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"That sounds inconvenient," he says lightly.

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"Not as much as you'd think. Help train her," Sherlock suggests.

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"Gladly."

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"Ooh, cool, double the Sherlocks double the sparring partners. Backyard?" Juliet asks, grinning. "Shell Bell, you wanna write our notes for me? You've got your eidetic memory and a speed boost that applies more to handwriting anyway."

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"Can do," says Shell Bell. She ruffles souled-Sherlock's hair and then teleports up to the Belltower.

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"Shall we, then?"

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"Let's."

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"I need a notebook and pen, I didn't bring one, and it'd be a waste of a square," says Juliet, "one sec." She stops at the bar, procures both, and then goes with the Sherlocks to the outdoors area, sets her writing materials down, and stands ready.

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Sherlock delivers a very short explanation of the repeated-sequence training technique, and then waits a beat.

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They attack in perfect tandem.

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Okay, this is harder, this is much harder. Even if Soulful doesn't know about the bayleaf and other blessings, he's still a Sherlock, and a vampire, and there's two of them.

Juliet loses a lot, and makes a lot of edits just to get fifteen seconds into the sequence without getting knocked irrecoverably on her ass, and collects a lot of scratches and bumps. She mimes having a stake, since of course she isn't going to actually stake either Sherlock and in a real fight she'd want to cut opponent numbers as fast as possible.

There turns out to be one key adjustment she has to make to teach her autopilot to fight two skilled opponents. She finds it only after laboriously correcting her way through the full first sequence with small-scale changes (dodge here, quicker on the counterattack there, this shift of weight is a tell and that one is a feint) and beginning a new one, but then it's the first thing she finds, and then she does better.
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"Amazing," murmurs Soulful.

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"Isn't she?"

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"Slayer instincts are so amenable to what us Bells do best after - before? - besides ruling worlds," says Juliet merrily, after meditating over her newest little change (namely: if she has any significant amount of one Sherlock under her power she can swat the other one with same) and shutting her notebook to hop up for another round.

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The first time she exhibits this heuristic, Sherlock giggles.

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"Hey, in a long fight, no point beating up on my hands and feet and elbows more than I have to," she giggles back between ducking punches and delivering a kick to whichever Sherlock is handiest.

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"Wise words," says Sherlock, hitting back.

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Duck and roll and sweep and mime-stake and she can concentrate on the other one. "Thanks very much for your help, by the way," she tells him.

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"A pleasure," he says cheerfully.

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Juliet attempts to finish him off with a mime of throwing the stake. "My best guess is that would've hit, am I wrong?" she asks.

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"Not sure."

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"It could have hit," says Sherlock. "But if he were me, he could have dodged."

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