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[jumpthegun]

You've reached Dr. John Watson. Please leave a message.

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[jumpthegun]

Rivals? Here I'd've thought you'd be all about making alliances.

[devoutish]

We're back and forth on each other. We were rivals when I left here. When we're getting along, some of my men do go to the Eden Club.

It's a bit too modern for me. I might be too old to appreciate it.

[jumpthegun]

Too old for clubs, too young for fishing. You're a difficult man to plan a holiday for, Mr. Solomons.

[devoutish]

[Alfie's quiet for a moment on his end. Just those few longer sentences had taken a little bit of a toll on him, and he needs a moment to catch his breath.]

Didn't turn down the women, did I.

Swimming?

[jumpthegun]

Well, there is an ocean, and it's warm. And there are women on the beach. [The mental image of Alfie in some 1920s stripey bathing suit with his beard, snorkeling in Cuba is so bizarre and hilarious, though. He wonders if he might be able to get Emily to draw it for when he comes back.

And he will come back. John's bound and determined. This is too stupid a reason for him to die to not come back. But John can hear his labored breathing, and that's another wrench.]

You could work on your tan. Reckon I could do with that. Been in England too long, got all pasty again.

[devoutish]

Women on the beach. Mm.

Was there a special woman for you in Cuba, John?

[jumpthegun]

Rosalyn, the Cuban Rose. Met her at a bar a few days into my holiday. Found out she liked swimming, too. Went for a few dips in some of her favorite spots around the island while I was there. [Innocuous comment about swimming adventures or innuendo? You decide, Mr. Solomons.] Always best to get tours from the locals, y'know?

[devoutish]

The Cuban Rose was a name you gave her?

[jumpthegun]

She told me her name meant 'fair rose.' Seemed fitting, and she liked it when I called her that. [After a few drinks in both of them.]

She called me Johnny. We had a bit of fun while it lasted. Still exchange postcards every now and again.

[devoutish]

Six continents Watson.

[He chuckles again, and closes his eyes.]

[jumpthegun]

All the mystique of a soldier, all the practical skills of a surgeon.

[It makes up for his height, or so he tells himself.]

Hit a bit of dry spell about two and half years ago, though, if that makes it easier on you, mate.

[He's only teasing.]

[devoutish]

Oh-- no need to worry about me.

[He pauses for another breather.]

I don't get many of those. Only when I'm holidaying in Alaska.

[jumpthegun]

Here's a show-off, then. [He clicks his tongue in mock-indignation.] One I hear should be getting married here soon enough.

[Look, he overhears things. It's enough to tease the other man with.]

[devoutish]

That is what happens when a man and a woman travel in the same group, yeah? Instant matrimony.

[jumpthegun]

How could I have forgotten!? Fiona must be married half a dozen times over now.

[devoutish]

Now, don't tease Emily too badly. She's here in the room.

[jumpthegun]

[The reminder that there's a little girl in the room watching Alfie slowly bleed out and die by degrees sobers John quite a bit, even if that hadn't been Alfie's intention.]

Mm...

[His voice is softer.]

If you need to, you can take a few more of those Vicodin, y'know? Sleep out the rest of this, get a jump start on those dreams.

[devoutish]

Mm.

[Royce had suggested ending it early too, but Alfie gives the same answer here.]

No. I might not wake up. There's a good chance of it, yeah? I'd rather live as long as I can, even if it's here.

[Even if it's in horrible pain.]

[jumpthegun]

[There's a lump that forms in John's throat, and he has to swallow a few times to clear it. How did he get this attached? Of course, it had barely taken a week for Sherlock, and he's known Alfie longer, but Sherlock... bloody hell. Alfie is the man who held a scalpel to his neck, the scalpel he's carrying now.]

Okay. Yeah. There's still a chance, though. You're not getting rid of all of us that easy, mate.

[devoutish]

I'd like to dream of Camden. Those docks where my warehouse is; where you took your woman.

[Did he say that already? He can't remember.]

The bakery-- we really did bake bread sometimes, you know. It wasn't just a cover.

[jumpthegun]

[He'd mentioned, but that's fine. John's chest tightens, and so does his voice.]

What was your favorite type, then? Me, I love a good sourdough.

[devoutish]

Sourdough... mm, yeah, I like a good sourdough. A good rye. Rye's my favorite. Warm and fresh from the oven.

[jumpthegun]

We'll get you some when you get back, too, yeah? I've been meaning to see what's downtown. Good place to resupply for runs if the weather's good.

[There's a catch in his throat, and John falls silent for a moment, forcing down the emotion.]

I heard there's chocolate ice cream, too. Promised that to Ecks a while ago.

[devoutish]

You lot and your ice cream, in this fucking weather. I'll take the bread.

[jumpthegun]

It's dessert and she's never had it before. Can you blame her wanting to try? I think it's cute.