Sherlock Holmes, after a fashion (
if_inconvenient) wrote2010-11-22 06:32 pm
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He has not spoken to Cal in six days.
It is a ridiculous measurement. Plenty of more important things have happened since then. Tony is now CEO of Stark Industries. Virginia Potts has, with some reservations, accepted a position as his personal assistant. She is already proving invaluable. The media seem to believe that the only interesting thing Obadiah Stane ever did was die, and Tony has indulged in several bouts of cathartic rage on the subject.
And yet.
He has not spoken to Cal in six days.
Every moment he has to spare, away from the minutiae of making Tony's job easier as best he can, finds Sherlock on the couch in his workroom playing the violin. He throws himself into the most challenging pieces he can find, and as soon as he has perfected every note he moves on immediately to the next.
But he doesn't keep count of how many new solos he has mastered this way. Another count entirely occupies that part of his attention.
He has not spoken to Cal in six days.
It is a ridiculous measurement. Plenty of more important things have happened since then. Tony is now CEO of Stark Industries. Virginia Potts has, with some reservations, accepted a position as his personal assistant. She is already proving invaluable. The media seem to believe that the only interesting thing Obadiah Stane ever did was die, and Tony has indulged in several bouts of cathartic rage on the subject.
And yet.
He has not spoken to Cal in six days.
Every moment he has to spare, away from the minutiae of making Tony's job easier as best he can, finds Sherlock on the couch in his workroom playing the violin. He throws himself into the most challenging pieces he can find, and as soon as he has perfected every note he moves on immediately to the next.
But he doesn't keep count of how many new solos he has mastered this way. Another count entirely occupies that part of his attention.
He has not spoken to Cal in six days.
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After he was sure everything was going to be fine, he went to bed and slept for about sixteen hours, making up all the time he'd missed since Stane's real death. So that's helped too.
None of which is to say he feels all that great, though. There's still Sherlock, and Cal still doesn't know what to say, but he's out of excuses.
He thinks for a while about just calling, sort of easing his way back in that way, but he has to admit to himself that that just wouldn't cut it. Sherlock deserves better than that. (Plus Cal can almost hear the dryly disapproving way Jarvis would answer the phone, which - no.)
So in the end, fairly late that night, he gets into his car and drives out to the Stark residence.
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"Hi," he says.
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"Sherlock is upstairs, as you can no doubt guess."
The heartbreakingly beautiful notes of yet another violin solo are clear, if distant, all the way from the third floor.
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"Thanks."
He hesitates for a second or two, then starts up the stairs.
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He pauses in the doorway.
He decides not to interrupt.
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But no. At a natural pause after one of those long drawn-out fragile-sounding notes, he raises the bow from the strings.
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He steps into the room, pushing his hands into his pockets.
"Hi."
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One of them should probably say something.
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"I'm sorry," he says. "I - took so long." The sentence is broken and awkward, coming out in two pieces instead of one, but it's better than not saying anything.
He hopes.
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Sherlock smiles wryly.
"I don't know how to do this any more than you do," he observes.
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"Damn," he says. "There's no rulebook or anything?"
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"Yeah, that - sounds pretty much like us, I guess."
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"I can live with skipping the part where we talk about our feelings if you can," he offers.
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"I'll spare you that conversation if there is nothing to be said."
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But what would be the point? Nothing would change. So he shrugs and says,
"I don't have anything."
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Sherlock gives him a studying look.
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"If you're sure."
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Cal runs a hand through his hair.
"I'm pretty sure I was the asshole here," he says finally.
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