Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Holmes. [John sighs.] I'll see what I can do. There are too many people with that problem here, though. These places we've all been through... they're awful. [Obviously.] I dunno this place is much better for some. There's no transition. It's jarring.
No. He doesn't. [It had been unnerving for John to see the other man like that.]
Stop leaving sticky notes around the house for important things, by the way. And if I ever find one that says we're out of milk, I'm getting a pail of it and dumping it over your head. [Just so we're clear, Mr. Lazy Milk Fiend.]
We already have the mobile phones, and defunct tablets in some cases, the only thing required would be a signal tower.
[He could wish for one of those, though the village might protest at him ruining their pastoral setting.]
It's not entirely necessary, post-it notes work well enough. It would be a more secure line of communication if you didn't keep letting people into our house.
You know how to actually wed a signal tower to different phones? Don't you need, like... SIM cards and things like that? [John's not an expert, but he's fairly sure it's more complicated than Sherlock's making it out to be.]
And sorry I'm making an attempt to have a social life. I know it's inconvenient. [Sarcasm drips from his tone.]
[He has absolutely no idea how to set up a mobile phone signal, but how hard can it be? He can take their phones apart if necessary to figure it out.]
Inconvenient? No. Familiar, perhaps.
[Truth be told, he admires it just a bit. John can find himself anywhere and adapt, put down some roots, and find purpose. Sherlock is still mostly adrift, aimless, and growing more bored by the day.]
[Familiar. Because he's becoming easier here, getting settled. The thought rakes across his mood like claws.]
I don't have to have people over. Got in touch with the Blue kid. He's a prick. Dunno how well convincing him is gonna go, but he responded to my letter, at least.
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[The idea of any outsider seeing a Holmes like that, even his brother who he usually likes humiliating, is abhorrent.]
Do you really think Mycroft will willingly talk to anyone else?
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[Them, naturally, but there are others as well.]
...thank you, John. Mycroft does not suit the trembling persona.
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Stop leaving sticky notes around the house for important things, by the way. And if I ever find one that says we're out of milk, I'm getting a pail of it and dumping it over your head. [Just so we're clear, Mr. Lazy Milk Fiend.]
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[Clearly this is John's fault.]
It would be easier if I could text you again.
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[He could wish for one of those, though the village might protest at him ruining their pastoral setting.]
It's not entirely necessary, post-it notes work well enough. It would be a more secure line of communication if you didn't keep letting people into our house.
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And sorry I'm making an attempt to have a social life. I know it's inconvenient. [Sarcasm drips from his tone.]
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Inconvenient? No. Familiar, perhaps.
[Truth be told, he admires it just a bit. John can find himself anywhere and adapt, put down some roots, and find purpose. Sherlock is still mostly adrift, aimless, and growing more bored by the day.]
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I don't have to have people over. Got in touch with the Blue kid. He's a prick. Dunno how well convincing him is gonna go, but he responded to my letter, at least.
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[He nods towards the mantelpiece where a letter opener is stabbed through his own letters with Deei.]
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[And he'll turn to go and fetch everything from his room unless Sherlock stops him.]