i want to walk on your wavelength

[sh_consulting]

WHO: Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson ( sh_consulting and drpsychosomatic )
WHERE:  Sherlock's MAC flat
WHEN: Backdated to Friday, directly after this conversation on the roof.
WARNINGS: Sherlock not being snarky for once...? oh wait no that will probably happen too.
SUMMARY: Sherlock takes John back to his MAC flat to give him the rundown on life in the city, and maybe just

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[drpsychosomatic]

John had no trouble keeping up, having had plenty of practice since the first time Sherlock had whirled off, expecting the doctor to follow. In fact, chasing the lanky bastard all over London had probably done more for him than two months of counselling and physical therapy. In an odd way, he'd missed it- or, having consigned himself to losing it once he'd discovered the discrepancies between his Sherlock and the man wearing his skin here, he was able to enjoy it in the way usually consigned to formerly unappreciated experiences gone and irretrievable. Chasing Sherlock Holmes. Was there anything else that carried with it that anticipation of excitement

[sh_consulting]

"Mm, yes... Haven't been able to get my hands on one." He sounded honestly saddened by this. He slid his coat off in a single graceful motion, and let it join the scarf on the chair - packets still in the pocket. He put his hands on his hips and looked around as if he was finally actually seeing the place, now that John was looking at it. "Yes, I think it suits."

He strode over to the wall, glancing over it quickly.

"This world is mostly the same as ours, with the Imports and the Porter being the major difference. I estimate somewhere in the range of 300 imports currently residing in the city, however... There is evidence that leads me to believe there may be more."

[drpsychosomatic]

John nodded, glancing over the board with the confident foreknowledge that there was nothing he could add to the current conversation. Briefing was more suitable, perhaps--

--and then he caught sight of the little drawing of himself in the corner, and couldn't help the slow, creeping grin from taking over his face.

"Not bad, that," he commented. "Not quite sure you've got the demoralised look in my eyes down pat, but it's not bad."

Fhjfg from my phone on the train so forgive any mistakes

[sh_consulting]

Sherlock looked back at John, sharply, then traced his eyes to the drawing on the wall. Oh really, when they had so many more important things to discuss. He pulled the drawing down with one swift motion and tossed it onto the couch.

"I didn't have access to a photograph," as if that explained anything. He had drawn it when Watson was first mentioned to him - a visual reminder of a curiosity. Now that the man was here, it wasn't necessary. And that John would grin so ridiculously when he saw it...

He turned his attention back to what was important.

"Some you've already met," he said, pointing to those that John had talk to on the Network. Some more dangerous than others, and some that have proven to be moderately useful. Peter and Ghost, in particular, have been furthering my research, so you may assume communications with them will be benign."

<333

[drpsychosomatic]

Doing his best to behave appropriately, John cleared his throat and folded his arms, eyes following the point of Sherlock's finger on the board.

"I'm worried I'm going to regret asking this, Sherlock, but what's all this for?"

Editing now that I am not on my phone. >>

[sh_consulting]

"Patterns." He paused, fingers hovering inches from the surface, not looking at John. "Trying to find some sort of ruleset - a guideline for what to expect."

His hand dropped to his side but he still didn't turn around. "I work by ruling out the impossible. But if nothing is impossible..." He caught himself in that train of thought and attempted to push it fully from his mind. He would figure it out. There must be motivations behind this place. Reasons. There had to be.

[drpsychosomatic]

This place must be killing Sherlock, John realised, watching him stare at the board rather than looking over it himself. A whole new set of rules to learn, without any guarantee that any of them were truly unbreakable? No wonder the detective looked different. His entire foundation had to have been shaken.

"Sounds to me like you need a good stabbing," John offered helpfully.

[sh_consulting]

Sherlock let out a sigh.

"Yes. Or four."

It wasn't until after he'd already replied that he realised how true the statement was. He needed a case, badly. He could feel his brain rotting. He glanced back at John with a slightly quizzical expression - the first tendrils of something of an understanding gripping his mind. Not many people knew that about him, without the word 'freak' or 'psychopath' following somewhere behind.

"Unfortunately, cases here are hard to come by."

[drpsychosomatic]

"Mmm."

John ran his hand through his hair and straightened up, glancing over his shoulder towards the kitchen. Oh, god. What fresh horrors awaited? Still, he didn't feel right having the kind of conversation that was to follow without a mug in his hand, and there was only one way he could think of to rectify that.

"Am I going to regret offering to make a cup of tea?"

[sh_consulting]

Sherlock had turned back to the board, fingers aimlessly tracing over the soft yarn lines.

"Top cupboard." Unfortunately he had no experiments running - he'd yet to make headway with anyone at the morgue, and dead bodies were too hard to come by the natural way.

[drpsychosomatic]

Well, at least John had discovered his purpose in life for this week, at least. Pulling Sherlock out of the blue funk he'd managed to sink into, left to his own devices- and preferably without having to murder anyone himself to do it.

He shook his head as he slipped through to the kitchen to attempt two cups of tea- it just wasn't right, not finding a couple of severed fingers on the countertop, or a hideously decomposing lung in the cupboard. Sherlock needed fixing, and John had a feeling it was going to take a little more than his appearance in the city to do it. Perhaps if he could just remember enough details about some of the cases they'd solved?

"I don't have a brother," he called out as he waited for the kettle to boil. Start easy, why not?

[sh_consulting]

John didn't quite know how far the depths of this particular funk had taken Sherlock. Though he was often melodramatic he was not quite capable of admitting - even to himself - how very useless he felt in this place. Something about meeting with John, though, brought it home very suddenly. He was painfully reminded of just how much more work he'd had at home.

He threw himself down onto the couch, curling his legs up and staring at the ceiling.

He paused, though, when John called out from the kitchen. He sat up a little straighter and turned to look in that direction, narrowing his eyes.

"No?" He didn't expect to always be right. But still... "It can't be a cousin's." He was fairly certain John had little - if any - extended family.

[drpsychosomatic]

"No, I don't have any of those either," he agreed, bringing through two mugs of tea and placing Sherlock's on the coffee table before settling into an armchair himself. It was a little ridiculous, how quickly the place became familiar.

"No brother, no cousins."

[sh_consulting]

Sherlock frowned, glancing at the tea cup before slowly reaching out for it. He cupped it in his hands, but didn't sip from it. The action was so familiar, and for some reason having John buzz around the flat felt almost natural, in a strange sort of way.

"Your phone, though. Obviously a family member, and a young one. It can't have been your father's." And then there was Clara. For Harry, with love from Clara... His brother in law? Sometimes men took their wife's name when they married, these days. But no, why would an ex brother in law give him his phone? His sister would hardly want them to keep close contact. But what then? It couldn't - -

He paused. Sister. Sister. "After they legalized unions..."

[drpsychosomatic]

"Right. Harry is short for Harriet. You know last time I had to tell you that?"

He grinned, taking a sip of his tea and hoping the slight encouragement would elicit a response.

"After you'd blown my mind getting everything else right, of course, but still. Not bad, Sherlock."

[sh_consulting]

Sherlock smirked, almost imperceptibly. Well. At least there was something he was better at than the 'other' Sherlock.

"It's not exactly the first conclusion one would leap to, no."

He raised the cup to his lips, but then stopped and lowered it again, looking over at John, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You've changed, however. Since I met you."