if_inconvenient | (no subject)

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Right. Cal is due to arrive any minute now. Tony is downstairs in his workshop, playing with his cars. Sherlock puts away his violin and descends to the ground floor, pondering the choice of living rooms.

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"I am afraid it is uncharitable of me, but I cannot condone the way she seems so intent on maintaining your ignorance."

Cal shrugs.

"The less me and Dad know, the easier we are to manage."

It's a state of affairs he's always lived with. Life runs smoother if he doesn't fight it.

(He hates not fighting it, among other things. The pot helps with that, too.)

He snorts. "Good heavens. Well, if you ever want to know something you aren't supposed to learn, you may depend on me to find it out for you."

Cal smiles.

"I think she'd hate that even more than the getting me shot at."

She'd certainly put more effort into actively preventing the friendship.

"She can hate it all she likes; I won't abandon you on her account."

Cal, too stoned to be aware of how happy he suddenly looks, says,

"No, you like breaking in too much."

"It is quite a lot of fun," he agrees.

(Hopefully Cal will also be too stoned to notice him d'awwing inside.)

Cal is oblivious. Happily so.

He's laughing instead.

"And useful, too. I am doing you all a favour. Eventually your house will be almost as much of a fortress as mine."

"This is my friend Sherlock Holmes," Cal says, "he breaks into my house for fun."

He has not actually stopped laughing.

Hey, this is some quality humor if you're stoned.

"Delightful, isn't it?"

Cal nods.

The giggling should taper off eventually.

Until it does, Sherlock can laugh along.

He needed that.

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