if_inconvenient | (no subject)

This may be the only day this year in which that wouldn't be the strangest thing Cal has seen.

Well. They do live in Sunnydale.

So maybe not.

Either way, Cal looks up at the ceiling, wearily relieved. And feeling just a bit like a third wheel all of a sudden, but under the circumstances he is perfectly okay with that.

It's at least half a minute before Sherlock looks up, but he does.

"Thank you for your help, Cal," he says as he gently confiscates Tony's glass.

Tony doesn't protest, which shows you what kind of a day he's having. In case you didn't already know.

"Not a problem," Cal says.

He's been sitting in the same position for hours; now he gets up and stretches, eliciting small popping sounds from various joints.

"Yeah, he's been great. We told Obie's secretary he's sick. She gave us a few days."

He doesn't bother about being precise because he knows Sherry's just going to ask Jarvis anyway.

"Then I will endeavour to use them wisely." He sets the glass down on a bedside table. "I could do with your assistance in that area, Cal. If it's not too much trouble."

"Sure," Cal says. "I've already got our family doctor setting up the paper trail. It'll look good for anyone who decides to check up."

As Virginia Potts already should have, if she has half a brain in her head.

"We can fake an ER visit in a couple of days, shouldn't be too hard. Peter knows exactly who to bribe."

"It seems we have matters well in hand, then."

It occurs to him that he has Cal and Tony in the same room.

No.

"What's got you all mysterious, Sherry?"

Cal, having taken the chance to tip back the last of his whiskey rather than throw it out, loses the opportunity to comment.

(He has, naturally enough, temporarily forgotten Sherlock's promise to tell all when he came home. Even if he remembered, it wouldn't seem important right now.)

Which gives Tony time to read the way Sherlock looks between them, and go:

"—oh."

He shrugs.

He nods.

"I believe we have an unfinished conversation," he says to Cal.

. . . oh. Now Cal remembers.

"Right."

He's not sure he has the wherewithal for this after the events of the day, but. Okay. If Sherlock wants to do it now, then it's now.

(He really wanted that cigarette.)

"Tony can spare us. Would going outside for a smoke improve you any?"

Oops. Cal looks embarrassed, both that he forgot exactly who he was talking to and that he chose this moment to prioritize himself in the first place.

But instead of saying no, as he should, he admits,

"Probably." Because now that he has been reminded, he also remembers that Sherlock isn't so into the polite lying that most people would expect here.

"Good, because I would rather not have to repeat myself tomorrow."

He gives Tony another quick hug and then breaks away and heads for the door. "Come along," he invites.

Cal grabs his jacket, since the cigarettes and lighter are in the pocket, and follows Sherlock out.

Sherlock runs a hand through his hair.

Nervous? Couldn't be. Not him.

Cal already has his lighter in his hand as they step outside, and produces a cigarette to go with it at the kind of speed a smoker is always capable of.

The first drag, combined with the alcohol in his system, makes his head spin a little, but he doesn't care. Cigarettes haven't really been an adequate replacement for pot, but relieving the new addiction is still satisfying.

"Better?"

Cal exhales slowly.

"Yeah," he says.

"- you want one?"

"No, thank you."

All right. He came out here for a reason. Any further delay is just stalling.

He hesitates.

Cal has been dealing with Tony for hours now, a long rambling intermittent conversation that has sometimes touched on the day's events and sometimes strayed as far away as possible, and he's been stepping carefully, doing his best to gauge what's okay to talk about when. To gently guide things along, but let Tony decide what to pick up on for himself.

He hasn't quite dropped out of that mindset yet and so, after Sherlock's hesitation has gone on for a few extra seconds, he fills the silence himself, his tone mild and his gaze off somewhere ahead of them.

"I asked Jarvis a while ago if he'd been named after anyone and he said no. I haven't been able to figure out how to make that fit."

It's a starting point, if Sherlock chooses to take it. If he needs it.