Equivalent Exchange (5/?)
anonymous
November 28 2010, 19:41:23 UTC
Oh god, I already have an extremely blatant continuity error in the parts above. Sorry about that everyone! This will teach me to edit while half-asleep.
This update is a bit of the short side, but that's because there's a big scene coming up.
*
"She was in a car park recently; you can tell by these marks on the laces and the mud on the soles of her boots," Sherlock says, twirling about the crime scene.
John places his hands on the body, trying to get a sense of the cause of death. Dead bodies are more difficult to get a read on; they don't operate the same way living ones do. Still, John finds traces of potassium chloride in the vascular system, most likely from an injection to the arm. John can get a bit of a read on the puncture wound.
Sherlock is still speaking when John pulls himself back out of the body. "In a moment, Dr. Watson is going to confirm my hypothesis about the injection to the upper arm," he says.
John doesn't mind that Sherlock is ruining the surprise for everyone -- not Lestrade's team this time, some other DI named Gregson -- because it's amazing just to see how Sherlock's mind works, how quickly he puts everything together. "It was an injection to the upper arm," John says. "I also found traces of potassium chloride in his system."
Sherlock beams at him, an expression that is both surprisingly lovely and somewhat unsettling. John smiles back, because there's something infectious about Sherlock's good moods, about the way he gets caught up in his own brilliance. When John is feeling honest with himself, he admits that he's more than a little addicted to the experience. Sherlock says, "I think I know where we can find her supplier," when they get away from the police and their prying eyes.
"Then what are we waiting for?" John asks, and then they're off again.
*
John sometimes wonders if Sherlock has sex, if he enjoys it.
There's been no shortage of offers, as far as John can tell, from Molly Hooper on the first day they met to the automail mechanic with the ink stains on his fingers just last week. Sherlock barely seems to notice their attention. It's obvious that the work always comes first for Sherlock on emotional terms. The idea that Sherlock could ever genuinely care about another human being seems odd, like John's mind can't quite make sense of it. People are just fleshy bags of interesting evidence to Sherlock, as far as John can tell.
Sex, on the other hand, doesn't require any emotional investment at all. John figures that Sherlock must have tried it at least once, maybe when he was younger, still in uni, and John can imagine that younger Sherlock, bright-eyed and eager to pick apart the entire universe, not entirely grown into his arms and legs.
He'd have been irresistible, then, just like he's irresistible now. Less so, maybe. John likes men who wear their own skin comfortably, who know themselves and what they want.
Not that John understands anything like that. He'd loved Mary with an intensity that had taken him by surprise, and now that she's gone, he feels cut off, adrift in the sea of human relationships. He doesn't know what to look for in romantic partners anymore, doesn't even know if he wants to look in the first place.
Maybe that's why he likes being around Sherlock, who demands a lot of John, but doesn't ask John for anything that John isn't willing to give.
This update is a bit of the short side, but that's because there's a big scene coming up.
*
"She was in a car park recently; you can tell by these marks on the laces and the mud on the soles of her boots," Sherlock says, twirling about the crime scene.
John places his hands on the body, trying to get a sense of the cause of death. Dead bodies are more difficult to get a read on; they don't operate the same way living ones do. Still, John finds traces of potassium chloride in the vascular system, most likely from an injection to the arm. John can get a bit of a read on the puncture wound.
Sherlock is still speaking when John pulls himself back out of the body. "In a moment, Dr. Watson is going to confirm my hypothesis about the injection to the upper arm," he says.
John doesn't mind that Sherlock is ruining the surprise for everyone -- not Lestrade's team this time, some other DI named Gregson -- because it's amazing just to see how Sherlock's mind works, how quickly he puts everything together. "It was an injection to the upper arm," John says. "I also found traces of potassium chloride in his system."
Sherlock beams at him, an expression that is both surprisingly lovely and somewhat unsettling. John smiles back, because there's something infectious about Sherlock's good moods, about the way he gets caught up in his own brilliance. When John is feeling honest with himself, he admits that he's more than a little addicted to the experience. Sherlock says, "I think I know where we can find her supplier," when they get away from the police and their prying eyes.
"Then what are we waiting for?" John asks, and then they're off again.
*
John sometimes wonders if Sherlock has sex, if he enjoys it.
There's been no shortage of offers, as far as John can tell, from Molly Hooper on the first day they met to the automail mechanic with the ink stains on his fingers just last week. Sherlock barely seems to notice their attention. It's obvious that the work always comes first for Sherlock on emotional terms. The idea that Sherlock could ever genuinely care about another human being seems odd, like John's mind can't quite make sense of it. People are just fleshy bags of interesting evidence to Sherlock, as far as John can tell.
Sex, on the other hand, doesn't require any emotional investment at all. John figures that Sherlock must have tried it at least once, maybe when he was younger, still in uni, and John can imagine that younger Sherlock, bright-eyed and eager to pick apart the entire universe, not entirely grown into his arms and legs.
He'd have been irresistible, then, just like he's irresistible now. Less so, maybe. John likes men who wear their own skin comfortably, who know themselves and what they want.
Not that John understands anything like that. He'd loved Mary with an intensity that had taken him by surprise, and now that she's gone, he feels cut off, adrift in the sea of human relationships. He doesn't know what to look for in romantic partners anymore, doesn't even know if he wants to look in the first place.
Maybe that's why he likes being around Sherlock, who demands a lot of John, but doesn't ask John for anything that John isn't willing to give.
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