if_inconvenient | (no subject)

Entry tags:

&cal

(no subject)

Sherlock does not want to be at school today. For once in his life he is something less than indifferent to the occasional stare and snicker, the looks of familiar contempt from those who have been around long enough to get used to him. His mood has been fluctuating wildly between rage and despair since yesterday morning. He knows his self-control is good enough to keep him from reacting to any taunts with violence, but nothing will stop him from wanting to. Which is unsettling in itself.

He has a duty, though, one that cannot be ignored. And if he is going to show up at school again, he may as well do the job properly. He is on time for every class before lunch, polite if not friendly when circumstances call for conversation, crisply dressed—in trousers, thank you; he does not think he could bear the reactions to another skirt. The only signs that anything is wrong are the dark circles under his eyes and the tension that stands in sharp contrast to his usual indolence.

At noon on the dot he is in the cafeteria waiting for Bella Swan.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Um."

Bella flushes bright red, immediately forgetting anything else she might have had to say.

Sherlock's eyes widen slightly, and then he looks extremely rueful in that way only Tony can ever manage to invoke.

Tony laughs, a warm, friendly sound.

"I'll take that as a no."

"That's not - relevant," Bella manages, after a few seconds of staring at Sherlock.

"Nope, but it's true. I mean, he didn't tell me or anything, I didn't even know you existed until five minutes ago, but when you get all analytical his eyes turn into little hearts, don't they."

That would be Sherlock's cue to blush—a pink lighter than Bella's, but no less apparent for that.

Bella eyes him.

"I . . . hadn't really been paying attention to his eyes," she says, lamely.

"For heaven's sake," he says, somewhat muffled by the hand he is pressing over his face. "Bella, I am sorry, I admit I had not anticipated this particular turn to the conversation."

"Okay, I'll stop now," says Tony, only half apologetically.

"It's . . . fine," Bella says to both of them. She pauses to tease out in detail exactly what she means by that, then adds,

"Of all the things I've heard today, it's by far the most agreeable."

Considering what else is on that list, the phrase damning with faint praise barely even begins to cover that remark, but without having had the benefit of thinking through her own feelings on the matter, it's also the most accurate conclusion she can offer for now.

"Oh good."

Beat.

"Except you've heard a lot of shitty things today, which isn't good. I'm sorry."

Speaking of Sherlock and hearts.

Tony is so sweet sometimes, in his own way.

Bella takes a deep breath to refocus herself.

"I would rather have information than not," she says. "The truth, no matter how unpleasant or ridiculous-sounding, is preferable over a happy delusion. I cannot make correct choices without knowing everything I can about what I'm choosing."

"No wonder he likes you," Tony says, echoing Sherlock's earlier remark. "No, wait, I said I'd stop that, didn't I. Anyway, if you really wanna know something, Sherry'll tell you. But just... be careful, okay?"

He's not sure how to articulate exactly what he means by careful; after a moment's thought, he leaves that there.

Bella tilts her head slightly, thinking about her choice of words. If Tony didn't know about her before this conversation, then he doesn't know Sherlock has told her about being a clone, and she doesn't know if Sherlock would prefer to reserve telling Tony about that for himself.

"I think," she says slowly, "that if my level of care were insufficient, you and I would not be having this conversation."

"Oh, Sherry," he murmurs fondly.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

Another glance at Sherlock.

"I'll do my best to maintain the appropriate standard," she assures Tony.

"Okay, good. If he trusts you, I trust you. Just, y'know—"

How does he say this?

"Sherry never puts himself first. The rest of us have to remember that."

Bella, who has not forgotten the last few minutes of the lunchtime conversation, is - politely skeptical of this assertion.

"Of course," she says. "Incidentally, if we need to be in touch again, I would like it to be on a phoneline on which privacy can be reasonably assured."

"...okay," says Tony, "wow, you're a normal person, aren't you. Uh, I guess? I dunno, I'm just used to Sherry having his nose in everything, it doesn't really bug me. I can get another cellphone. But, y'know, phone security is basically shit, so anybody who really wants to can eavesdrop. It just takes more effort when you're not already recording all my calls."

There is a faint sound of typing in the background.

"Bella," Sherlock interjects, "your conversations with Tony for which I am not physically present are private from me unless otherwise noted."

Which just leaves Jarvis.

Isn't that a quandary.

"That's a start," she tells Sherlock.

An extremely specific start, rather than the more general conclusion she'd like to end up at, but a start.

To Tony: "I know cellphone security is poor. That's not my concern. Anyone making the effort to take advantage of the poor security of cellphones is very likely operating out of malicious intent and not to be trusted anyway, and the breach of privacy is one symptom of what could become a larger problem. If someone is eavesdropping on my conversations without my permission, that is an excellent reason not to trust that person."

I'm sorry, but no.

I won't peek, however. Consider your correspondence with the young lady inviolate as of now.

...Tony sighs.

"Oh boy," he says, not really to anyone in particular.

"Okay, so I'll get another cellphone and ask nicely."

Bella smiles slightly.

"He's just said he won't eavesdrop," she tells Tony. "Unless he's physically present." She glances at Sherlock and adds pointedly,

"And everyone knows he's physically present."