009 || written/dictated;

[workaphilic]

[ Private ]

[The journal opens to Sherlock already talking. The sentence stutters before the filter is written in, then continues smoothly as soon as the restrictions of his loss are appeased.]

-- clearly a hardy subspecies, then, at least in terms of temperature patterns. Fitting, given the circumstances of the "gift." Interesting choice, actually, managed not to be completely boring. More interesting that the castle seems to care all of the sudden about my entertainment.

[The bees have been moved back into the sitting room because, well, John's not here anymore to complain about it, is he? Good for the bees, because the dampness of the bathroom was threatening to damage the integrity of the hive. Good for Sherlock, because he's already deciphered the duties and movement patterns of worker bees based on their relative age and the needs of the colony.]

Probably a placation, and a good one. Most residents receive mementos or objects of emotional significance from home. Makes them feel nostalgic, but it's the safe kind of nostalgia, something they have the castle to thank for.

[He gets so much more done when he's alone. Far too many petty restrictions to adhere to otherwise.

It's better, supposed to be better, should be better.]

Provides them with a sense of normalcy and ingratiates them to the castle without interrupting the status quo. Obvious. But apparently effective.

[Except he's going on three days without sleep, now, and it isn't because the bees are captivating enough to warrant it. (Though they are that, too. Fascinating creatures.) There's a nagging in the back of his mind, nagging, nagging, nagging. Persistent and annoying. Keeps him from thinking, keeps him from not thinking.

A pause, and he exhales noisily.]

Status quo.

----

[ John Watson ]

Stop being an idiot.

SH

[........ Okay, well. Not the best start, admittedly. Baby steps.]

----

[When he's finished, he lingers, letting the tip of his pen tap rapidly against the page. He's been distracted, hasn't been as up-to-date on the journal as he usually is. But now that's he's skimming it again -- god, sometimes he really just CAN'T STAND you people.]

Tell me, residents. What is it like?

[There's an edge in his tone that he's not really bothering to hide -- not overtly malicious but certainly not all sunshine and daisies, either. Might as well hang a signpost reading HERE BE DOUCHEBAGGERY, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.]

Comments

[workaphilic]

[A huff.]

You kept insisting that I eat, so I ate.

[confidente]

[ Pfft. ] That wasn't eating, that was inhaling.

[workaphilic]

[pau...se.]

... I may have been slightly hungry.

[confidente]

I think slightly is a bit of an understatement.

[workaphilic]

[He waves his free hand dismissively and scrapes around the edge of his bowl with his fork.]

Pointless distinction.

[confidente]

[ Flippant shrug clearing up the remnants of his own bowl. ]

If you say so.

[workaphilic]

[He DOES say so. He's silent for a few seconds while he tries to wring every last drop of sustenance from his bowl -- and then, casually:]

So. Doctor, nurse, or have you decided to embrace the "healers"?

[confidente]

What?

[workaphilic]

[He shrugs like it's not important.]

Fairly obvious where you've been spending most of your time, lately.

[confidente]

Are you asking if I'm seeing anyone? [ Is that what is happening here? ]

[workaphilic]

Only a handful of reasons to be spending that much time. Not financial, obviously. Not boredom, and certainly not looking for a sense of normalcy. Assuming you aren't deathly ill, the most probable explanation would be....

[Well. He can't say, not directly. But you can fill in the blanks, right, John?]

[confidente]

[ He can and he pulls a face, shaking his head. ] No. No. I'm not seeing anyone.

[workaphilic]

No? [He squints, like he's trying to decide if John's lying or not.] Hm. Possible you just don't know it yet, I suppose.

[confidente]

I'm positive sure I'd know if I was seeing someone. [ Unless this is Sherlock's way of--AHAHAHA NO. ]

[workaphilic]

[GOD JOHN VAIN MUCH.]

Not necessarily. Ordinary people are hopelessly indecisive about these things, god only knows why, and you're missing some of the other indicators. Could point to -- [he swallows down the itch in the back of his throat] -- a variety of things.

[confidente]

[ WELL HE'S CERTAINLY AN ATTRACTIVE MAN. NO ONE COULD BLAME HIM.

Frown. ]

Why are you so suddenly interested in my love life? [ That may or may not exist. ]

[workaphilic]

[He shrugs again. Haven't you been paying attention, John? He's casual. So goddamn casual.

Or maybe feeling just a touch possessive in the wake of recent events. But no one can prove that.]

I'm not. I said it was the most likely explanation. Do you have a better one?

[confidente]

[ He's far too casual, it's making John a little suspicious. ]

Yes, actually, I've been keeping an eye on someone.

[workaphilic]

Not the obvious. [By which he means a patient. Talking around stuff is annoying.] Who, then?

[confidente]

His name is House, a doctor, and almost as much of an annoying dick as you.

[workaphilic]

And he needs you to babysit him?

[confidente]

I'm not babysitting anyone. [ Well he is... sort of. ]

[workaphilic]

I'm sorry, is that not what "keeping an eye on" means?

[confidente]

[ YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS JOHN IS SPENDING MORE TIME WITH HIM THAN HE IS SPENDING WITH YOU. ]

That's not-- Does it really mater?

[workaphilic]

[Yes. B(

It does when you're spending that much time over there. B(

It does when you've just spent three days over there while actively shunning him. B(

He shrugs. Again.]

Suppose not. Can't say it's surprising, though.