WHO:
sh_consulting and
flotillaborn (and maybe John Watson later)
WHERE: Sherlock's MAC apartment
WHEN: The day after thanksgiving.
WARNINGS: None~
SUMMARY: After Tali wakes up, and is checked over by John, the good doctor leaves for groceries and Tali is left with the questionable company that is Sherlock.
FORMAT: Para and then maybe quicklog.... anything goes!
(
we'll be here when the fog clears )
She awoke on the couch with a dreary groan -- her head ached -- and did her best not to panic, trying to remember where she was. Someone's strange apartment, she remembered the doctor, and -- oh.
Tali pushed off the edge of the couch and wandered over to where Sherlock was pouring over his equipment, raising a three-fingered hand in greeting.
"Mr...Sherlock, right?"
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He didn't even blink.
"Sherlock, yes." There was a pause as he reconfigured his brain away from his experiment and back into forced social niceties.
"Tali, correct?"
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She didn't move to peek at his experiments - Mordin had never appreciated it - but instead, leaned with one hip out and her arms crossed over her chest. "And that's -- it, really. I don't want to interrupt."
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He did, however, pull himself upright, looking over the mess of equipment that had spread over his table, and, in some instances, onto the floor.
"Ah, well, it's nearly complete. Just a few last calculations."
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Tali listened to his words, nodding. She was glad to hear that Ghost had other people who cared about him.
John seemed nice enough, too.
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"No. It's - fine."
He pulled away from the table and walked into the kitchen. It felt a little awkward, somehow, without John, and he mused silently over that fact as he came up to the kettle.
"Tea?" He couldn't exactly ask her to leave, until John came back.
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Which meant that she couldn't ingest anything that Sherlock had to offer. She tugged on the edge of her headscarf. "But thank you anyway." She followed him into the kitchen, boots clicking quietly on the floor.
"Does the network have any further information on the toxin release?" She'd check herself, but that seemed -- rude, somehow.
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"I hadn't checked," he said, even as he did so now, not looking up. What was conversation? "I have my suspicions already, though. I've no doubt this is Crane's work."
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"It doesn't seem unlikely, given his interest in peoples' fears." And if he'd 'accidentally' posted patient files to the network, she didn't peg him as the most moral of men.
She brought up her omni-tool on her left arm, flipping through the last few minutes' data about her body.
All clear so far. Hrm.
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"He is more than a little obsessive, isn't he?" Scroll, scroll, scroll - Ah, yes. A post from Edward. Definitely Crane, then. "Ah - and seems like I was correct."
He looked over at his chemistry set in the other room. "Well. It was a brilliantly crafted substance."
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"If you've figured out what it is, you might wish to inform local hospitals and clinics looking to create an antidote, should this happen again." Tali mentally ticked off the names that Sherlock was dropping -- just Crane, so far. Hn. People to remember and watch, evidently.
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"Nearly done. I'll have John take it to the clinic as soon as it's complete. He's left his footprints, now, if he tries this again he'll have to work quite a bit harder."
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Tali nodded. "That's good of you." Strangely enough, this man so far reminded her of a ruder Mordin. Odd.
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A timer back on the table in the living room chimed, and a grin slipped onto his lips.
"There. Now it should be done." He slipped gracefully back to the living room and up to the equipment.
"Curious?"
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She arched her brow and cast a glance over to the table. "I don't know much about chemistry. Engineering is more my thing."
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"Pity. It's a rather interesting formula... Well. I digress." He looked up. "Engineering?"
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