Sherlock Holmes, after a fashion (
if_inconvenient) wrote2010-11-14 06:10 pm
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After a very inconclusive day and a rather more informative conversation with Jarvis, Sherlock is lying in his hotel bed with his fingertips together, staring at the ceiling. It is no longer a conscious imitation of the classic pose; over the years he has made it his own.
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He doesn't really think anything is going to happen, but knowing that Connolly is still there, hidden safely from sight, is still a relief.
Cal takes that shower he's been promising himself all afternoon, then calls Sherlock.
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Cal stretches out on his bed, taking a certain amount of pleasure in the fact that he can do it without thinking about anyone watching.
"How's it going out there?"
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"Oh," he says. "That sucks."
You know, in general.
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He gets up to retrieve his cigarettes from his jacket pocket.
"I pretty much told Stane to go fuck himself."
Which he knows Sherlock already knows, but he likes finally getting to say it out loud.
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Need he say he approves?
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"He never even saw it coming. He thought I was gonna be all deer in headlights again."
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"I am, aren't I?"
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Which, of course - he turns more serious, saying,
"But I don't know if he really took me seriously. I might've just pissed him off. I mean, I've got it covered, but."
But there's no guarantee, is there?
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There's a desk in Cal's room now, one he actually uses sometimes. He sits down at it to use the ashtray.
"He tried threatening you again."
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Cal takes a drag from his cigarette.
"I don't know how he thinks that would go, anyway."
He realizes the next logical step in the chain of threats, of course, if Stane did take his bullshit to Sherlock, but he also assumes Sherlock would be more than capable of neutralizing it.
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Sherlock is vaguely aware that there is something wrong with how funny he finds that whole prospect, but he sees no need to observe such conventions.
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As if there would be any other options.
"Too bad for him I figured that out."
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Cal frowns slightly, and continues,
"And I'm having breakfast with Tony again tomorrow, so he knows I'm not going to just fade into the background while he's here, either."
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He sighs.
"And of course Tony hasn't a clue about any of it."
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Cal echoes Sherlock's sigh.
"I still don't get that. I mean. Stane isn't as subtle as he thinks he is. And I don't think he's even trying to be subtle sometimes."
A couple of the looks he'd given Cal - if Tony had glanced over at the wrong moment, not even he could have misinterpreted that.
Or so Cal would like to think.
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Cal ashes his cigarette, takes another drag.
You can ignore a lot of bullshit from someone that important to you.
Stane could get away with a lot more than he tries, with Tony. Cal's sure of that.
(It isn't (http://americas-son.livejournal.com/2159.html?thread=325743#t325743) that easy, is it?)
(And it's been a long time since Cal even liked his uncle.)
"Fuck. Well. It works out pretty good for us, too, anyway."
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