notquiteheartless | Deduction 5 - [ audio / action ]

Deduction 5 - [ audio / action ]

That one there.

...No. The other.

Thank you.

[Sherlock Holmes likes to talk as he works.

Today, he actually has a project. Gone is the boredom and lethargy, but he has not progressed into the mania of a case yet. He is all scientific control now, watching every flame and chemical and reaction with the utmost care.

There's a lot to do. Compounds need to be broken down so elements and simplier compounds can be isolated. Then those have to be correctly combined. A long process with the rudimentary equipment found in the laboratory he and Temperance share in her flat.

And whomever he is speaking to isn't the only one who has to listen to him.]

It's always about comfort.

Truth? Entirely expendable if one is not comfortable with it. People prefer what makes them feel at ease, what seems 'nicest.' Even if it's nothing more than a good story.

[And Moriarty was a very good storyteller.]

Whatever threatens their world-view least, they accept. Are delighted to take as proven fact, even if there is only conjecture to support it.

Sheep, following the butcher to slaughter, bleeting happily.

[Does he sound irritated?]

But everyone makes mistakes. All their deceptions? Eventually come unravelled. Strange as this place is, it is not an exception to this rule.

[That would be because he is. His mood has been just a slight bit volatile since his midnight "chat" with Moriarty. Whom he is quite sure will hear this, whom he wants to hear this, wants him to know he'll be waiting for that one mistake. His conversation with Lestrade hadn't helped either.

To the other in the room:]

That one now.

[A quiet sigh. The look he's getting doesn't need words to make its doubts clear.]

Oxford, John. I know what I'm doing.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Not a unique situation, then. I'm quite used to suspicion and paranoia.

[Judgemental tone? Sherlock Holmes? No, never!]

[Oh, groan. Every time.] I wouldn't call it "paranoia".

But really, what is it this time? Poison, acid, flesh-eating virus?

[You asked for it, Sally.]

Just a gift. For a dear friend.

[That tone is not comforting, Sherlock.]

[The literal facepalms are usually Lestrade's job.]

Next time "yes" will be fine. What do we have to do to get you to leave that man to the professionals? Do we tie you to a chair? I swear I'm going to stake land and start building a jailhouse with my own hands. One of you is going to need it eventually.

Because confining him works so well. [A pause.] About as well as taking me into custody, actually.

Right, well, how's this: first we make sure there aren't any loved ones captured for leverage and we'll work from there.

And for the record, your attempts to seem threatening are losing their charm.

[For a moment, there's a long pause. Captured for leverage.

What do you know?

But he has the time to choose his words.]

I'm not trying to threaten you.

[Really.]

Good, because I promise I wouldn't be impressed. But telling an officer of the law that it would be useless to take you into custody rather sounds like a threat.

It's not a threat. It's simple fact.

I was taken into custody. It didn't last.

[This was a bad idea. She knows she's picking at scabs and that all it ever does is make her angry. She's already doubting...everything. Herself and the whole situation, and talking to the Freak about it is only going to make things worse.]

You've always made my job harder, but not by actively working against the law. Be arrogant and cruel. Don't care about anyone but yourself. Fine. I don't have the energy to care. Just...

[She sighs. It's not like she can ask him to stop. He wouldn't.]

Wait for him to strike first.

[He finishes for her.

If he thought Moriarty would come after him, he would. He wouldn't give a thought to a pre-emptive strike. Wait to be struck, wait to be proven right, then lash out and deliver all the damage he could.

Which she assumed would be Moriarty's plan.

Because, naturally, Moriarty would go after what mattered most to Sherlock. And if he cared about nothing and no one but himself, his enemies would strike at what was most valuable-- him. At least one person believed what he'd said to Moriarty on that roof.

He... wouldn't correct her. Not now.]

What?

[She's actually startled.]

No. Wait for the mistake. And then don't throttle him with your bare hands.

Wait for the mistake. [So. There's a bit of doubt. That's all he needs. One seed was strong enough to take root before, now all he needs is something that can at least compare. It doesn't have to overpower the other... just be noticed too.]

And do what? There is no "law enforcement" here. There is no law.

Even if there was, he's demonstrated what he can do with a "jury of his peers."

Oh, for god's sake, don't get me started. I know, and it's chaos. Well, it's not chaos, which quite frankly shocks me, but these people need to learn that anarchy is not a system that works. It's not a system. We have to fix it, that much is obvious, but it's going to take time.

But in the meantime, what is he going to do? What would you do? With no legal system, no money, no way to discreetly contract hired killers, actors, people to do the dirty work, with no bombs or guns or computers? Is he going to start stabbing people in the street?

There is a genius involved on at least one end of this, but it's probably going to take the genius awhile too!

["Anarchy" is a good description.

Of course, Sherlock can appreciate a little vigilante justice. He intends to practice it once he returns to London.

However, much as he defies it or works around it or bends it or ignores it, he has respect for the legal system. To see it wholly disregarded is unsettling at best.]

You and I both know how easily a makeshift explosive can be devised.

[His tone stops just shy of insult, even if it is condescending.]

He may have to change his methods, but he's more than capable of doing that.

Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that you know so much more about everything than I do, Mister Solar System.

[Yes, it was weak, but she can only put up with so much seething condescension at once. She takes a breath and goes calm again.]

Right, fine. I know that, but I assumed the point of the exercise was to be clever, not to cause wanton destruction. Correct me if I'm wrong. Not that I have to give you permission.

It's to do both.

He wants to cause destruction, and he wants to put on a show as he does it.

[Of course. It's always about showing off.]

Fine. What are you saying, then? What are we supposed to do?

["We" as in Sally and hers, because expecting Sherlock Bloody Holmes to cooperate or coordinate is hopeless nine times out of ten. But she doesn't feel a need to clarify.]

Simple:

Leave him to me.

[And around in circles we go! She's about ready to throttle him with her bare lands, let alone looking after anyone else.]

You. Are missing. The point. We don't execute criminals based on no evidence but that which may be held by one suspect individual like savages.

Do you like the anarchy? The vigilantism? Is that how you really want to live, here?

I know it's a complicated issue, but you don't get to appoint yourself supreme ruler. You don't.

[And now, his voice is very, very calm. There is no anger.]

Vigilantism is the only way anything will be done against him. Here or in London.

He won't give you lot another chance to arrest him. He won't let Mycroft get hold of him again. He won't leave any more evidence than he already has.

The only way he can be stopped is by a vigilante. Someone unconnected with the police. Someone just as untraceable. [Someone who is recorded as dead. Because you can't try a dead man for murder.]

[This is not how the world is supposed to work.

That's all she can think. The world has always been a place where things can be horrible and fucked up and wrong and terrifying, but this is just broken.

Because they're in some godforsaken other realm where unknown forces kidnap innocent people and stick wings to them and use them as pawns, her title and all the work she did to earn it mean nothing, and she's starting to get the nasty and always unwelcome feeling that Sherlock is right.

But she couldn't say any of that even if she necessarily wanted to, so she just sighs. It's a very, very tired sigh. And then she chuckles mirthlessly.]

This hasn't been a very good day, has it?

[No.

The world isn't supposed to work like this.

Not the situation here, not the situation in London. Everything is wrong. This place only highlights it, accentuates the problems he's seen in his slice of his world. Of their world.

Because here or there, James Moriarty is the same.

An elusive shadow.]

When's the last one you had?

[It's not even really a question. It is, in its own way, an acknowledgement of everything. They've both been long removed from good days.]

[Her laugh this time sounds almost like real, if resigned, amusement.]

Good point.

Probably the last time I felt useful. You know I don't like to feel useless.

[He's gotten enough grief from her for contributing to it.]

I doubt most people feel useful in this place.

[He understands. He's felt it several times so far.]

Deduction 5 - [ audio / action ]

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