if_inconvenient | (no subject)

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So. Alec Carrow.

Sherlock is aware that social boundaries apply to this situation, and that he is currently breaking them all. He doesn't much care. He is wholly capable of discretion, but he is not at all capable of remaining ignorant in the first place.

Start with finding the obituary. Work from there. How did he die? When?

(Tony doesn't know about the conversation with Alyce. Tony doesn't know about a lot of things. Tony has been spending more time than usual ensconced in his workshop with the door locked, hacking Stark Industries records like he doesn't remember that Jarvis won't keep secrets between the two of them. Sherlock is a little surprised that it seems Tony was on the level about arming him more formidably.)

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"Yes," he agrees, "I do."

He tilts his head thoughtfully to one side. "Why?"

(If you were paying attention, you might think that question implied he has something to hide.)

(She is paying attention, but she's not on his wavelength quite yet. Give her a little time to get to know him.)

"Because it's amazing. I can do things other people can't - things they can't even dream about. I can call on the elements and the lower powers and make them do what I say, because I have that power. I can make things happen, and I can stay safe, and I can hurt those who would hurt me."

"I can see how that would be something to be proud of."

In a sense, he supposes—

"A little like me and my deductions, in fact, although in my case the effects are much more humble."

"You have to be proud of your talents. What else do you investigate? Aside from evil teenagers who send demons after you."

"Very little," Sherlock admits. "Sunnydale can be astonishingly dull. That demon assassin was the most exciting thing that has happened to me all year."

Which means he probably wasn't there for the demon prom.

"Then you must have missed prom," she says, her eyebrows raised high.

Exactly!

"I did, yes. And by the time I could inspect the area, most of the evidence had been obliterated by the demon assault itself and at least two subsequent coverup efforts."

"That was insane. I'm glad you missed it. I left early, and I missed all the-"

She was going to say fun.

She stops just in time.

"-danger. Oh, that wasn't our fault. We just showed up to prom."

"All the danger," he repeats, quirking a smile. "Indeed. Yes, I'm aware you and your fellow ducklings were not responsible."

Sherlock pats the table fondly.

"I believe we have learned all we can from this noble item of furniture. Shall we go looking for other things to examine?"

She snickers. Ducklings will never not be funny.

"Yeah. Let's do. Maybe we can find a mystery to solve."

She stands up, smoothing her skirts out.

"After you, Mr. Holmes."

He stands, too, and flashes her a smile as he turns towards the door.

"It is an honour to lead you, Miss Carrow."

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