#premonite

wind-tousled, the heroes stride back to the estate, their spirits high and their hunger whetted for the hunt. they evade the storm-laden sky behind them, and the deeper meaning of what division they've buried to be able to see eye-to-eye.

they are a few drinks deep in the comfort of sherlock's room, and though the irishman holds his liquor more elegantly if not better, he isn't immune to the sort of wistful atmosphere their drunkenness has created. james is not at all surprised to hear a piece of judgement from sherlock he must've concluded over the past few weeks.

here comes a challenge, and though its nature does not immediately become apparent, james need only wait a beat for it to reveal itself. sherlock has spotted it a second before him, but evidently found it appropriate to take enough time for his remark to settle in before he makes himself scarce. faster or not, james better follow suit.

the list of things that james can keep up with is generously long and uncommonly versatile, even when compared to sherlock, who by all standards is an extraordinary person. sherlock can't throw a punch nor out-drink him, and his luck with the ladies is equally poor, but if there is one thing the man can do better than anyone, it's running.

a well-known consequence of lying and thieving, if one is either untalented or ( in their case ) unfortunate, is the chance of having the scotland yard on one's tail. sherlock is already in a good load of trouble, and the stocky officer rounding the corner is well on his way towards them. huffing and puffing as he may be, he is directing everyone's attention onto the two men, who, well, are now running as they should.

james is laughing, carefree, because even while running from the police, together with sherlock he's invincible. he dodges a woman with a large basket of vegetables, artfully avoiding a collision without losing much momentum.