s-sob just fooling around here.

[holmessitter]

[ This is a very, very fine, regular day at 221 Baker Street. What's a better way to spend a quiet Sunday morning than clearing up your best friend's dirty laundry piling up in the oddest corners, draped over your clean clothes and- hey, isn't that the shirt you thought you had lost last week

Comments

[outwittery]

Judging by the quality of the material, he has excellent taste. I can't imagine where he's picked that up considering the women of ill-repute he cozens up to... are of the very affordable sort. Easy on the pocket, that sort of thing.

[ enter the woman of ill-repute, all swirling skirts and jaunty hat. she stops and raises an eyebrow at what Watson is holding ]

And before you throw yourself into a quandary over the improper question you must wrestle with asking in order to satisfy your curiosity... it isn't mine. It seems you've a mystery on your hands. A new case, how exciting.

[holmessitter]

I-

[ A small noise, withered before it fully leaves his throat as he stares at the woman, quite surprised to find her here (or not). And it's not only her presence that perplexes him, it's what she said - exactly what Watson had suspected, and feared.

He doesn't know whether he should be offended, bewildered, or relieved. Perhaps all of them at once. ]

Holmes didn't invite you in, did he?

[outwittery]

Come now. Would Holmes really exert the effort it took to budge from his comfortable position of smug, indolent and deliberately mannerless repose to offer a young woman the courtesy of shelter from such a terrible elemental world as this?

[ beautiful slyness lining her eyes and and the curve of her smile, it takes a woman to transform into art such friendly malice. discomfitting men is the first necessary step ]

I let myself in, of course.

[holmessitter]

Of course, of course.

[ Why he would ever think otherwise, Watson doesn't know. Although the thought of Irene Adler being able to let herself in without effort disturbs him to no end. It is a good thing he has nothing quite valuable. ]

This mannerless repose, however, does not welcome criminals.

Would you like an escort out the door?

[outwittery]

It also doesn't welcome the Yard, oftentimes your landlady, and basic grooming. I'm eager to join such fine company.

[ that reflexive worry, oh you can't be a thief and not learn to read a man nor a woman. it's hardly a challenge to steal from a near-penniless doctor with an office with bad locks ]

Are you offering? It would be a most rare pleasure, one that I think requires time to savor and anticipate. As you're a fine gentleman, doctor, I'll take a great deal of time to relish the anticipation of your most chivalrous escort.

[ in other words, not until she's done with her business here or watson'll have to force her. ]

[logicpiece]

Miss Adler. How good for you to stop by my office.

Now, please escort yourself out.

[outwittery]

Oh it's not for my good that I risk the dangers of this breeding ground for exotic French diseases you call an office. It comes as no surprise that it takes a medical man to survive a prolonged stay here.

[logicpiece]

A night of false accusations, it seems. [ This is foppery: he brushes a hand to the side, and smiles. ] This room is of course no breeding ground for diseases - the chemicals I keep keep them out just as surely as Watson's medicines do for sniffling little people that he calls his patients. I, of course, have a much stronger constituition, and thus would not be affected by the... fumes.

[outwittery]

A constitution braced by the liberal imbibing of those... 'fumes'? I'm not so convinced. An example, if you'll spare some time from your no doubt enthralling past time of constructing pithy insults about the Inspector Lestrade. You've offered nothing but pitiful theories to refute the accusation. Where is your much beloved data, Holmes?

[logicpiece]

Elementary. Far too elementary, Miss Adler. For you to simply dismiss my theories as pitiful without giving full evidence nor even testing out my proofs - not that I want you to - speaks terribly about the intelligence that you are purported to have.

My beloved data is all around me. You simply have not looked closely enough.

[outwittery]

As a rule, I generally dismiss everything about you as pitiful. It's served me quite well, I should think. And the item was found on your property so the burden, it seems to me, should fall on you to disprove the obvious, thus boring conclusion.

Oh do they purport such a thing? I must be slipping if 'they' are able to tear their attention away from my face and figure long enough to purport anything else about me.

Considering how it smells in here, I'm taking ever care not to.

[logicpiece]

That shall be your loss then, if you continue to do so. A good chessmaster rarely likes exposing his pieces, and he only benefits even more when his opponent stubbornly refuses to look at them due to some sort of perceived superiority.

[ He shakes his head almost sadly. ] The burden of proof always lies on the shoulders of the one who wishes to prove, not the one to dispove.