if_inconvenient | (no subject)

A brief dose of Tony has done wonders for his mood.

"Tony often prevails upon me to cook when Obadiah visits," he explains, "because he is laughably bad at it himself. But, as he so astutely pointed out, I am busy. Shall we?"

Cal's own mood eases a little in response to Sherlock's visibly lightened one. He smiles a bit, the first real smile he's had to offer since Obadiah showed up.

"Okay."

He leads the way back into the living room.

The rest of the movie passes uneventfully; when Tony and Obadiah emerge from the garage, they take the elevator and thereby avoid going anywhere near this living room. Whether or not that is on purpose, and whose purpose if so, is left as an exercise for the reader.

"That was surprisingly enjoyable," Sherlock comments as the credits roll. He is still sitting in his economical upright way, but he seems at ease—even, perhaps, relaxed.

Cal has been doing a certain amount of fidgeting (still not used to watching movies sober), but mostly he's been sitting with one foot drawn up and his hands clasped around his knee, watching the movie with more seriousness than he usually does. He smiles when Sherlock delivers his verdict, though.

"Good," he says. "See, it's good for you to just hang out sometimes."

"I am not sure of this conclusion," he says gravely. "Further experiments may be required."

Cal laughs.

"That could be arranged."

For science.

He cracks a grin. "I am pleased to hear it."

"Well, that's what they say to do in science class, right?"

At least, they did back when Cal still bothered to attend regularly.

"Often enough that even I heard it," he agrees.

"So that's what we'll do."

Cal lets his foot slide off the couch, leading to a faint popping sound as his knee adjusts to being straightened out.

"A plan I fully support."

Which, Cal thinks, qualifies as early indications of success, which means he wins. He's not sure what else he can contribute here, but he will get Sherlock doing normal things on a regular basis if it kills him.

Well. Taking Sherlock's side against creepy jerks. He can do that too. (His expression shifts slightly as this thought crosses his mind, turning a shade more reflective.)

Sherlock raises his eyebrows.

Cal blinks at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," he says, because you seemed unusually thoughtful for a moment would be deeply unfair.

Any potential insult would go right over Cal's head. He hears worse all the time.

He hesitates, then says,

"I was just thinking -"

He's not sure what he was thinking at this point. He went over it so many times in his head during the movie that he no longer knows what was there and what he made up, if he ever knew in the first place, and he hasn't gotten any closer to deciding whether it's best to bring it up or leave it alone.

Attentively: "Yes?"

"I don't know, maybe I -"

Cal rubs his hand over his forehead.

"I think I'm just being paranoid." He has his reasons for being paranoid on that subject, after all.

He thinks of his own suspicions, but doesn't mention them.

"Paranoid about what?" he prompts instead.

Cal hesitates for a moment longer, then plunges ahead. Because if it was for real, then Sherlock would have seen it and maybe just hasn't said anything, and if he didn't then it wasn't and Cal can stop worrying about it. Either way, he's not going to end up making Sherlock worry for no reason - that, he has to admit, is just an excuse to justify not saying anything. Which he should.

"I don't know, I might just be making it up, but - when Stane said that thing about my mother and me being a shining example . . . I mean, either he was saying Mother's a whore and I'm not much better, which is kind of a weird thing to say when he's never met her, I mean, sometimes people hate us, fine, but saying that to my face when he's never even met Mother - but, either that or he was kind of hitting on me, or, or both, you know what, that sounds even stupider out loud, never mind, I never said anything. Uh, like I said. Paranoid."

"I had not," he admits, "considered that implication."

And now he is.

"Then it was probably nothing," Cal says immediately.

"I, uh, I've, um. Kind of. Had something like that happen before, so, uh. Probably overreacting."

"Perhaps. But perhaps you were right. I find I cannot rule it out."

Which really says something about Obadiah. Either that or it says something about Sherlock's suspicious nature. Or both!

"Fuck," Cal mutters.

Judging from the frustrated disgust in his tone, he's going with the first interpretation.

"I am sorry. Obadiah Stane is not a pleasant person."

That much, Sherlock has always known.

He thinks... no. No data.