(no subject)

[if_inconvenient]

It has been no more than a few hours and still he feels that is too long.

"Where are they?" he asks as he steps inside. Home at last. It should be comforting.

Comments

[if_inconvenient]

"Quite."

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

The laughter trails off after a moment or two; he sighs after, like he's been holding it in all day. Which, on some level, he has.

"Did you see if Connolly's still out front?" he asks.

[if_inconvenient]

"He is."

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

"Okay."

Cal drops the remains of his cigarette and grinds it out.

"I should -" He hesitates.

"I - I need to think. You know. When I'm functioning better."

He's not fleeing just because of Sherlock's revelation. He's not.

(Mostly he's not.)

[if_inconvenient]

"Of course," he acknowledges.

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

"I'll talk to you later."

He glances at Sherlock.

"I'll, uh, I'll keep you up-to-date on setting everything up." He still has to think about that, too.

[if_inconvenient]

"I'd hardly expect any less. And—thank you."

Not just for helping.

[americas-son.livejournal.com]

"No problem."

Cal turns and goes back inside, to cut through the building on the way to Connolly's car. Home, he thinks, and sleep, and -

God, he wants to smoke up so badly. Maybe just this one exception would be okay. He can even go back up to his old room to do it, keep the smell out the rest of the house. Just once doesn't count as backsliding. Not after the way this day has gone.

[toblameforit]

Upstairs:

"How'd he take it?"

[if_inconvenient]

He quirks a smile. "Not too badly, all things considered."

[toblameforit]

Tony snorts.

Then he shakes his head. (The glass of whiskey on the bedside table beside him is empty.)

"Sherry—c'mere."

[if_inconvenient]

Sherlock climbs into bed and gathers Tony into his arms.

[toblameforit]

They stay that way for a long, long while.