Written in the Stars

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO PISS HIM OFF AGAIN!" a man's voice echoed down the stairs. John rolled his eyes as he took off his coat. Obviously Sherlock's new client was not happy about one thing or another. Hanna was probably out for the night with Molly. She'd been serving as a buffer between Sherlock and the clients so that things like this didn't happen.

"AND I TOLD YOU HE'S A FAKE!" a female voice shouted back and John paused on the landing.

"OBVIOUSLY HE'S NOT! LOOK AT US!"

"THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM!"

"REALLY?" The man demanded, "BECAUSE THE TWO TIME YOU'VE PISSED HIM OFF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO US!"

"HE'S A FAKE!" the woman insisted, "I FOUND THE SPEAKERS HE USED! HOW DO YOU EXPLANE THOSE HANNA?"

"Hanna?" John whispered running up the stairs two at a time and bursting through the doors.

"HE'S PLAYING UP THE EXPERIENCE!" the blond man shouted from the kitchen as John ran in. He was tall towering over John by at least half a foot and out weighing him by probably sixty pounds of muscle. The white t-shirt he wore was stretched around him, molding to the curves of his torso. Black pants, which he recognized as Sherlock's, were also pulled tight around the man's muscular thighs and about two inches to short. "HE'S GIVING THEM WHAT THEY EXPECT FROM HIM! SCARY NOISES! RATTELING WINDOWS AND HOWLING WIND AS WELL AS TALKING TO THEIR DEAD LOVED ONES!"

"HE'S A FAKE!" The woman in the living room nearly screamed back. Small hands balled into fists as she glared daggers at the man from under her main of dark curls. She was about John's height, but she was very thin. So thin that Hanna, who was tiny herself, her shirt was almost falling off the shoulders of the other woman who took two challenging steps toward the man. "HE HAS TO BE!"

"Um…" John looked between the two, "Can I help you…?"

"John!" the man jumped, "Will you tell this moron he's wrong?!"

"I'm not wrong!" the woman growled glancing back at the man. "You're just an idiot."

"I'm sorry do I know-" John's question stopped short as he looked between the two, his eyes meeting theirs. Dark blue sapphire eyes and blond hair, he thought looking at the man. Dark unruly curls and silver eyes, he looked at the woman.

"John?" the man took a step closer, "are you okay?"

He blinked looking at him, "Hanna?" he whispered and the man gave a wary smile.

He turned to the woman, "Sherlock?"

"Obviously," she said blowing a curl out of her eyes.

John nodded, closing his eyes and turning his face down to the ground, "Right… obviously."

"Are you going to be okay John?" Hanna asked walking forward to put a large hand on his arm.

"He'll be fine," Sherlock said and John could almost hear her roll her eyes. "We have more pressing matters at hand."

"He's you're best friend!" he growled at the woman, "You could be a little sensitive to his wellbeing."

"Being sensitive won't put us back in the right bodies."

"Neither will being cruel." He hissed rubbing John's back. "Really Sherlock, look at him. He's been traumatized."

"No," the shorter man shook his head, "no, I'm fine- or I will be. As soon as we change you two back."

Sherlock held up a hand shooting Hanna a look, "See!"

"Can the two of you stop bickering long enough to figure this out?" John growled looking between the two who fell quiet; like children being lectured. "How do we change you back?"

"We already know that," Hanna gave an exasperated sigh as he turned around to take a seat at one of the kitchen tables, "Sherlock is just being stubborn."

"That will not work," She growled crossing her arms over her chest. "I told you that man is a fraud."

"Wait- hold on," John looked between them, "What man and what won't work?"

"The shaman," Hanna said with a roll of his eyes, "this is the second time Sherlock and I have crossed his path. Both times Sherlock decided to make the man look like a fool and a crook in front of his clients. And both times the Shaman has cursed us."

"So the animal ears you two had a while back…" he trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose, "never mind. How did you –I can't believe I'm actually asking this- how did you break that curse?"

"We did as the Shaman told us," Hanna shot the woman a pointed look; "we kissed each other's ears. They were gone the next day. I guess he thought that, that would force Sherlock to recognize the shaman's magic. Obviously the opposite is true."

"It was a complete coincidence." The woman huffed.

"And what is it you say to coincidences?" he demanded, those deep blue eyes drilling holes through the woman across the room. She was quiet, meeting his glare with her own furious gaze. "'The universe is rarely so lazy.'"

John spoke up, "I don't understand-"

Sherlock let out a laugh, "Story of your life."

"-If the Shaman's advice worked before," he continued with a glare, "Why won't you do it now?"

"Because," Hanna sat back in his chair, one long leg crossing over the other, "this time it requires more than a simple kiss."

"What-" he stopped as he looked at the two of them. "No," he looked to Hanna who fought off a chuckle and nodded slightly.

"Yep, Sherlock Holmes must be deflowered."

"That is not happening!" Sherlock growled.