#scciopath

                    they’d   talked   about   it    .          argued         ,         more like         ,         because really         ,         his baby daughter definitely shouldn’t be at crime scenes  .         sherlock had said that it would be educational        ,         that a crime scene offered many skills that one could not learn in primary school  .         &         whilst john knew that to be true         ,         knew that rosie could not avoid their lifestyle for the rest of her life         ,         she wasn’t even two         ,         &         john preferred to not scar her with the sight of a bloodied cadaver  .         but         ,         sometimes         ,       things happened  .         john had gone out to the shops a few hours earlier with rosie         ,         as they’d needed to get some things so the fridge wouldn’t look so empty  .         but         ,         halfway through his stroll through tesco         ,         he’d received a text from sherlock  .         it was a good crime         ,         he could already tell         ,         because why else would sherlock have tempted him with it  ?         there was an address         &         everything  .         he glanced down to the baby sitting in the cart         ,         who was gurgling away quite contently to herself         ,         then sighed  .         definitely earlier than he’d wanted to expose her         ,         but         ————         god         ,         he couldn’t resist  .         he was absolutely weak for it .         he quickly checked out with the items in their cart         ,         then carried the bags out to his car         ,         buckling rosie into her carseat in the back before starting up the car         &         punching the address into his gps  .         it didn’t take him very long to get to the scene         ,         &         he parked before unbuckling rosie         &         strapping her to his chest         ,         snatching the baby bag from his trunk  .         he can see sherlock among the yard         ,         milling about the scene  .         a hand cups protectively on rosie’s back         ,         as he approaches  .                  ❝         sorry that i’m a bit late   .         i was in the middle of shopping   .         ❞                  a small smile on john’s face         ,         as he walks to sherlock’s side         ,         although he keeps a bit of a distance from the body         ,         trying not to get rosie too close  .                  ❝         what’ve we got today   ?           ❞

“i’m  WATCHING  the  tv  ,  so  don’t  you dare  turn  it  off.”

rosie spoke  ,  not  moving  an  inch.  she  was  too  comfy  to  do  anything. placing  her  phone  by  the  side  of  her  ,  before  she  finally  sat  herself  up,  guessing  she  would  need  to  make  sure  she  was  acutally  paying  attention  to  the  tv.

“if  you’re  going  into  the  kitchen  ,  can  you  grab  me  some  snacks.”

John doesn’t look at Sherlock at first. He doesn’t look across the fire when he speaks, keeps his eyes on the flickering glow of the flames reflected in the finger of Scotch in his hand, resting on the arm of his chair. He doesn’t lift his gaze to catch the slight widening in Sherlock’s eyes, or that subtle breathlessness at the confession. 

Instead, he just breathes. John inhales slowly, lets it fill his chest completely, and exhales with the same ease. It is easy... to breathe, at least, but it’s a small victory and John will take it gladly. Finally, he looks up. 

“No, no, it’s fine.” John replies. There’s a casualness to his tone that lifts a weight off his chest. For the first time in years, he doesn’t feel like a war is waging inside his fucking head just at the thought of it. 

They’d been talking about a recent client - a woman who’d survived a boat accident and been the only survivor. Her new husband had been trying to use the “ghost” of her deceased husband to guilt her into giving away the money she’d received, but that was besides the point. John had been able to connect with her, talk her down from putting a gun to her head. 

The idea of flying off London to hunt down this Holmes guy wasn’t all that appealing to Tony when he’d much rather be at home playing with his tricks and toys. But Fury had given him a job and Tony wouldn’t turn a good friend down. He’d read the file on the way there and on landing he’d navigated his way through London until he found himself on the doorstep of 221B Baker Street.

His file was tucked underneath his arm, one hand in his pocket while the other knocked at the door and waited for an answer. Even the file didn’t give him much in the way of answers, clearly this guy either had some mysterious power or he was another lab accident gone wrong. Then again he could be neither, he could just be a clever know-it-all. That was very possible.

Whatever the case Nick Fury wanted to get his claws in him. He was looking for more agents, more eyes on the ground and he had a particular interest in Sherlock Holmes. 

‘  WHY  A  SMILEY  FACE  ?  ’  the  doctor  asked  ,  staring  up  at  the  ceiling  of  the  flat  of  221B  baker  street  .  above  him  was  the  outline  of  a  smiley  face  imprinted  in  gunholes  that  must  have  been  shot  at  from  this  angle  .  the  doctor  lifted  his  forefinger  &&  middle  finger  of  his  right  hand  &&  imitated  the  movements  of  a  gun  .  immediately  he  felt  UNCOMFORTABLE  &&  shifted  himself  further  down  the  couch  ,  legs  stretching  out  &&  fingers  knotting  together  to  lie  on  his  chest  .  

It’s quite a change from the moment they met to now. Their first meeting had been less than friendly and yet here they are, Loki mentioning how he wants to do things to him. Things that are no doubt of the sexual nature and Sherlock has to admit, he’s curious, what is it that Loki would do with him if he had the chance? “Oh? do tell me more.”

“Telling you might ruin the suspense.” Pleasantly surprised by Sherlock’s interest, Loki cannot help himself. “But I suppose I could idle around suggestion. I could overwhelm you with the impossible, leave you with no reason to ever be bored again. And when you can take no more, I can simply bring you back down away from the noise, save you from the inconvenience of thought.