if_inconvenient | (no subject)

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Conversations with Mr Mayer are always so delightful. Sherlock returns home happier than he left, just like last time, resolves to look into that fellow's collection of mysteries—just like last time—and reluctantly shelves the project in favour of more pressing matters. Just like last time.

At least, on this iteration, the pressing matters are much more pleasant. Cal should be arriving any minute now.

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"Yeah," Cal says thoughtfully. "He's really good at the fake teacher thing."

Which is to say: his classes are too boring to be memorable, and while he's friendly with his students, he doesn't make much of an impression. Cal would never have looked at him twice if he hadn't come around the corner at the right moment that day.

"That he is," Sherlock acknowledges. "I hadn't thought of it in quite that way, I admit."

Good Watson. Have a cookie.

Cal looks pleased.

"It doesn't really look like a fake till you see him for real," he says. "First class I had with him after I talked to him about the tape, I was like, 'Holy shit, are you kidding me?'"

"Ah, there is my difficulty. I hardly ever bothered to attend his class once I'd learned everything I needed to know about his accent."

. . . that is an obvious connection Cal never made.

His expression says as much.

Sherlock grins sunnily.

Cal rolls his eyes a little and shakes his head.

"Yeah," he says. "Sorry I didn't mention the tape, I just completely forgot about it. There was a lot going on."

And he hadn't been talking to Sherlock. Which -

Whatever, that's over now.

"Indeed there was."

"But I think I might've freaked him out a little when I told him not to worry about Stane," Cal continues.

In retrospect, he could have picked his words a little more carefully. His anger toward (everything) Stane had boiled over more than it should have in that moment.

He'd certainly made his point, though.

"Oh?"

"I may have used the phrase 'evil bastard,'" Cal says, a touch ruefully. "He said something about it being a horrible way to go and how he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy, and I just - I don't know. Didn't want him to worry about it, I guess."

Didn't want him digging any deeper into Obadiah Stane's life. Wanted him to forget the whole thing had ever happened so that Cal wouldn't have to worry about him knowing. Wanted to point out that Stane was, in fact, someone's worst enemy.

Wanted to say out loud that he'd deserved it, and Sherlock hadn't been there to say it to.

"If I were him I'd start to think you arranged it," he says, without really considering the implications.

Cal pauses. That hadn't occurred to him.

"Yeah, I guess it really didn't sound that good," he concedes.

"Don't worry. If he ever takes such an asinine idea into his head, I'll put him right."

"If he was gonna do something about it, he would have already."

Mr Mayer - the real James Mayer - hadn't struck Cal as the type to bide his time.

"Anyway, if he was gonna get himself killed anyway, maybe I should have. I mean, something else, the Hellmouth thing is way too elaborate."

It's partly a joke. Partly not.

"Oh, no. If anyone was going to have him assassinated, it should have been me. He hired the man who shot at me, after all. Turnabout is fair play."

Cal snorts.

"Well, one of us should have," he says. "It would have saved some trouble. And watching someone gets sucked into the Hellmouth is not as fun as it sounds."

"No." His smile fades. "No, I imagine not."

Cal looks more serious, too.

He may not trouble himself over Stane, but that doesn't mean it was a pleasant experience. And you'd never know it from talking to Tony, but he must -

"He's definitely better off not knowing, right?"

"On every conceivable level."

And can you imagine having that conversation?

Sherlock has.

He'd do it. If he had to. If it would truly make anything better.

Cal nods. He thinks so, too. He and Sherlock have never talked about it before, though, and he wanted the confirmation.

"How's he doing, anyway?"

Cal doesn't see as much of Tony as he used to, and Tony doesn't let much show. Not of that.

(Not unlike Cal himself. There are quite a few people who think Cal doesn't care much about his father's death at all, and that suits him just fine. That kind of thing is private. It's a weakness.)

"Keeping himself occupied. Pondering how best to make the offer to Miss Potts."

Cal raises his eyebrows slightly.

"The what?"

"Oh, he's giving her the company, of course. Didn't he tell you?"

Cal shakes his head.

"No, I think I'd remember."