method of loci

Since you’ve already snooped through my blog, why don’t you go back and read for yourself so I don’t have to repeat it?

and I come back to find that not only has Sherlock Holmes returned, but Owen Harper as well?

Can’t say it’s my lucky day, but glad to have you both back.

At least Sherlock had that reassurance.  Owen being too clouded for memories of this conversation to stick.  When he had a clearer head then they’d surely try this again.  With luck, the medic wouldn’t repeat the same errors of loose tongue and failing wit.  Or being nearly so handsy as he was.  He swayed back from that other lean figure to provide space, tuning in upon the fact that the other man wasn’t showing many encouraging signs to invite more of his affection.  Trying to make an effort to behave himself.  Especially when there was a Whale-Thing probably looking on with its Whale Death Eyes.  Or whatever it had.

“Sleep sounds good.  So smart, so clever.”  He satisfied himself with patting appreciative fingers at a lean shoulder as he mumbled that praise.  “I’ll probably sleep better than I have in months.  Only….” Owen closed fingers on the hem of Sherlock’s shirt.  A grip not unlike a child’s, clutching.  “You can’t jus’ put me t’bed and then ditch me there.  You’ll stay, right?  In the room at least.  Until I do fall asleep.”

At the tug on his shirt, he raised a brow, surprised at Owen’s insistence that he stay in the room until he fell asleep. He hardly saw the point in doing so if all he was going to do was sit quietly so that sleep could happen, but if it would make the other comfortable, he had no objections. “I’ll stay,” he answered with a convincing nod, mostly because there wasn’t much else to do on the boat and though it might not have been the most thrilling activity, at least it was with someone he didn’t mind spending company with. “I’m sure it won’t take very long anyway.” Based on how quickly he had fallen asleep curled up next to the medic the first time, it should indeed take no time.

He absentmindedly smoothed out his clothing after the handsy attack on them, giving a laugh at both Owen’s request and his worry of falling off of the deck. He would have to make a huge effort in order to actually fall into the water, but was clearly worried about it enough to have to ask for assistance. “Fine, just...here.” Reaching for the man’s hand, he gripped it in his own, thinking it to be the easiest way to get below deck without any accidents, not that it was a very long journey in the first place though there were stairs, which had to be Owen’s biggest enemy at the moment. “Watch your step, it is dark.” 

Until she didn’t want just to touch him to make sure he was there. She was dying to slap that pretty face of his.

It wasn’t that  bad at first. His sarcasm was highly unappreciated, specially remembering how empty her stomach was and how dangers can a dominatrix be when she’s not in the best of moods. Yet, the his position as for how long he had been gone caught her with her guard down. “A day?” Irene’s frustration slowly began to fade into comprehension as she realized the meaning of those words. The first logical assumption she reached just as she finished musing that small repetition was some sort of memory loss, but as she was trying to get the best way of explaining that he had been gone for weeks, the rest of what she’d later qualify as ‘verbal vomit’ and ‘trashy manners’ caught her complete attention.

Oh, that laugh could have been as well a written petition for her to shove her fist down his throat, and she would have accepted gladly. She would be willing to sacrifice her perfect nails for such a noble cause. Instead, she bit her lips and lowered her gaze. The dominatrix’s face was illegible for a minute as she made a small decision right there, the only thing giving her away was her mutism. Since when did the fierce Irene Adler allowed anyone else to speak to her that way without an instant comeback?

She rose her eyes to him once again, and they shone in a way that talked about something very deep inside of her, breaking. There was no mask over her porcelain face this time, she didn’t even need it.

“We thought you were dead.” The way she said those five simple words made it sound as an insult, and though Irene didn’t mean to spit them that way, they reflected exactly how she felt, and she was not taking it back. “You disappeared for a month, Holmes. Not for a day.”

Practically snatching her phone back, the woman allowed her words to sink into his ears for as long as he needed to. She still trusted he was wise enough to understand and not ask again, even if for a moment she thought she was too optimistic. 

She fixed a lock of her hair behind her ear as she said so, the new length became a little uncomfortable when she looked up again. “John, Gwen Cooper, your brother, even Jim Moriarty and many others were looking for you, but we were only fools, weren’t we? We were worried to death, while you were just too busy playing hide and seek in an empty room.” Of course Irene was aware that there had been another reason for him to be gone for such a long time, but she felt so offended she just couldn’t let this chance of spitting venom slip away. Her glance was intense and it was becoming heavy to breath. What should have been an awkwardly happy reunion became just a sour encounter for her, and she was furious. With him, yes, but mostly with herself. What she had become this last month, the memory of the gray hair on her cup of coffee, and now that he appeared to be offended  because they dared  to care…

It was hardly news that people might have thought he was dead and so wasn’t as nearly surprised by her further explanation that he had been gone for one month. There was no possible way he could have lost track of the time and been in the room for that long - he hadn’t even eaten anything and by that logic, shouldn’t have even been able to have the conversation he was currently having. That simple fact could have pointed to Irene being the one who was not telling the truth, which she had been known famously to do and was a major factor in how they met, but with her standing in front of him with such a blazing look in her eye...he was hard-pressed not to believe her. “A month?” he repeated, the burden now being shifted to him but for obviously good reason. “That’s ridiculous. Unless time passes more quickly in that room, either you or I are wrong and I have a very good record.” 

The mention of there being an entire search party being deployed was a further tip-off that Irene was simply making this situation up. Her reason for doing so was still a mystery, but something just didn’t add up somewhere. “It isn’t an empty room and you would see that if you looked inside...” The rebuttal trailed off and eventually stopped as he turned to spare a glance back inside his flat, though rather than it being an exact replica of his abode, the identical shoddy walls and beams that adorned the rest of the ship was hidden behind the door. It seemed much smaller than he remembered and certainly had less rooms, consisting of only the one rather than his kitchen and bedrooms. The only evidence left that he had actually been inside was the sword he had dropped off near the door, sitting exactly where he had placed it. He didn’t even have to go back inside to confirm that the entire thing had been an illusion, one good enough to trick him. He hardly wanted to turn back around to face Irene, not when he couldn’t explain himself or where he had been without coming off as delusional.

This was no time to be projecting disappointment, anger, confusion and whatever accompanying emotions went on with them onto the woman, but she knew exactly how to irk him enough to bring the fall on herself. “Lucky? No, you’re right, I don’t deserve anything of the sort, but you’re sorely mistaken if you think you finding me is ‘lucky’.” Reaching down to pluck the sword from its sitting position, he fastened it around his waist before stepping out of the room, shutting the door with more force than necessary. “I would have found my way out eventually.”

You can play whoever you’d like as long as we find what we’re looking for. I won’t be saying ‘elementary’ any time soon, however. 

Stop that.