if_inconvenient | (no subject)

"Quite possibly yes."

And then he looks up, past Cal, at the stairs that lead to the second and third floors. A moment later, Cal might hear two sets of feet descending them.

A moment after that: "Oh, why don't you let me take those, Sherlock?"

The Chandler persona is right back in place; this time, though, it's the reflex not of social propriety (nor the amusement of earlier) but of self-defense. There's a subtle thread of unease that wasn't there before, though Sherlock may well be the only one to whom it's visible. Cal would hope.

Cal is good, but not perfect.

"Thanks, but we've got it," he says, relieving Sherlock of one of the boxes.

"Are you sure?"

"C'mon, old man, give Sherry a break for once." Tony pushes past Obie to grab another box off the stack.

"I was just trying to help," he says with a smile. "Now Tony and I were thinking—"

"Lies!" Tony chirps. "His idea."

"—yes, very funny, Tony. We were thinking it might be nice if we all sat down together and had a meal like civilized people."

Tony is already making preemptive puppy eyes at Sherlock. He looks ridiculous. Adorable, but ridiculous.

There isn't much Cal can do except defer to Sherlock, which he does with a glance in his direction.

The glance does not say anything like fuck being civilized people, because he doesn't want to give Obadiah anything to work with here, but he's pretty confident Sherlock will get the idea anyway.

Sherlock is rather torn. On the one hand, Tony's silent pleas are very compelling. On the other, he has a clear moral duty to keep Obadiah and his creepiness, real or imagined, well away from Cal.

"I have never pretended to be civilized," he says lightly, hoping for an easy deflection.

"Don't be an asshole, Sherry." Tony appeals to Cal, somewhat lighter on the puppy eyes. "You're cool with it, right?"

"Oh, I think Sherlock's vote counts a little more than mine," Cal says lightly.

Under normal circumstances, it would be a gentle hint: Cal is a guest, it's rude to pit him against his host like this. He's forgotten entirely about that angle, though, and is still focused on not giving Obadiah ammunition. The ultimate goal is to leave the man with the impression that Cal is a harmless kid, not too bright, definitely not suspicious of anything. Just caught up in the social rules he's been taught to obey.

"If Sherlock had his way he'd be up in his room with a book," says Obadiah. "Alone." His ponderous voice seems to be gently teasing, but it's as false as everything else about him.

Sherlock flushes slightly. "And if you had your way we would all be in New York," he snaps.

Tony runs his hands through his hair, aggrieved. "Guys! Jesus! Could you just—not—for a minute?"

Obadiah favours him with a look of concern. "I'm sorry, Tony. I didn't mean to upset you. Sometimes I forget that your brother," he says the word oddly, as though it doesn't quite fit, "is so sensitive."

Cal is back to not understanding at all how Tony doesn't see what an asshole Obadiah is. It's not like spotting assholes is some kind of special Chandler superpower. You just need to have eyes.

The mention of books gives him an idea, though. He glances at Sherlock as says quietly - as if he thinks that dropping his voice will somehow make it impossible for Tony and Obadiah to hear him (he doesn't) - "I do have that test I wanted to study for. We wouldn't have to stay long."

In other words, it's a perfectly legitimate excuse to eat quickly and get out of there, which allows everyone to - almost get what they want. The fine art of diplomacy in action!

"I defer to the wishes of the majority," says Sherlock, rescuing Tony's pizza from where he abandoned it on a shelf and leading the way to a different living room. This one has armchairs as well as a couch; more room for everyone to get their choice of seat.

Tony claims roughly half of the three-person couch, of course.

Cal sighs inwardly, wishing there had been a way to do that without making it look like he was siding against Sherlock. It had been dangerously close to getting ugly in there, though, and ugliness tends not to leave any attractive choices. Tony is a complicating factor, especially since Obadiah has no problem using him as leverage. (And he doesn't even fucking notice.)

He puts the box he's carrying down on the table and flips it open, for all the world as if its contents are his most immediate concern.

Sherlock perches on the opposite end of the couch from Tony, near Cal. Obadiah, naturally, takes the armchair to Tony's left.

"So how is school, Sherlock?"

"No duller than usual."

They are not actively sniping at each other; Tony seems to take this as a win, and brightens the hell up as he opens the pizza box that Sherlock set in front of him. It's vegetarian, of course—Obie's favourite. The other two are pepperoni. Tony reaches across to steal a slice from Cal's.

Cal helpfully nudges the box closer.

He should say something, he knows. It's one of the hundreds of little rules he's been raised with and is currently falling back on - part of his responsibility as a guest is to help the conversation move along comfortably.

But he doesn't really want to draw Obadiah's attention any more than he has to. So. He'll say something, he will join in, but he can get away with appearing occupied with a slice of pizza for a minute or so first. So that's what he does.

"No wonder you're friends with this one," says Obadiah, smiling across the length of the coffee table at Cal and Sherlock. "He's quiet as a mouse."

If Sherlock didn't notice the undertones before, he does now that he is looking for them. Subtle but definitely present. But, for Tony's sake, he does not immediately throw the man out of his house.

Guess who's oblivious?

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn't seem to catch any weird implications. (What he catches is that Sherry is even less friendly than usual. He chalks it up to Obie's cracks about social skills.)

"Maybe he just doesn't wanna talk with his mouth full," he suggests helpfully. Around a bite of pizza.

He's ready for it this time, and it's easier to take a punch when you know it's coming. He manages not to look at Sherlock, not to seem as though he noticed anything other than the surface of Obadiah's words and Jesus did Tony really have to say that right this very second? If he didn't know better, he'd think Tony was in on it.

He keeps his eyes on the slice in his hand for a few extra seconds, lingering over the bite he's chewing, taking that vital time to compose himself before he swallows and has to answer.

(His face is just a little warm, but it's not noticeable, is it?)

"This is good," he says to Tony, "where'd you order it from?" A weak effort, especially considering the logo on the boxes, but he'd rather look stupid than vulnerable. Anything is better than vulnerable.

"Domino's," says Tony—and the logos are mostly obscured by open lids, so Cal could just be incredibly unobservant, to which he can relate— "is without doubt the best goddamn pizza joint in the country. Am I right?"

"I can't argue," Obie concurs, all innocence.

"Certainly," Sherlock agrees. His voice is light, neutral.

He might not fool Obadiah; he probably won't fool Tony; and if nothing else, Cal is going to see right through that facade of indifference to the part of him that would rather propel Obadiah out of the room by force than continue to make polite conversation.

Cal thinks Sherlock is doing a fairly decent impression of someone who just wants to get through something he considers unpleasant without upsetting his brother. That's probably what he'd mistake the act for if he didn't know better.

But he does know better, and the subtle indication of support is reassuring. He is, for a change, not in this alone. He relaxes a little, and the smile he gives Tony is convincing as he says,

"I don't know, Uno does a deep dish that's pretty good, you ever been?"

"Nope. Should I?"

He is open to pizza-related suggestions! And frankly, he is completely okay with talking to Cal while the other two shut up and eat their pizza!

Cal is happy with any scenario that involves Obadiah not saying anything.

"Yeah," he says, "they're mostly on the East Coast, but there's a couple out here. I just wish there was one a little closer."

He can do harmless, meaningless small talk for as long as he has to. Especially since Tony seems not to notice exactly how poisonous the atmosphere is in here. Cal would like, for Sherlock's sake as well as Tony's, to keep it that way. If Tony doesn't see it, after all, that means he doesn't have a reason to see it.

Either that, or - no, Cal would rather cling to what little optimism he can find right now.

"Yeah?" Tony is honestly and completely interested in this conversation. "Well, where's the nearest one?"