[ That gets a snort and he looks to the side. Most of them come down to differences between Jim and Jamie. He's not sure how to go about that. Answers probably come best from just watching. Maybe. He doesn't know.
He shakes his head. ]
Knowing one Sherlock Holmes doesn't mean you know them all.
[ for a moment she seems like she might laugh but it doesn't come ( jamie moriarty so rarely ever laughs and when she does, it is a frightening thing ) ]
[ look at her walking over to your kitchen to take a biscuit. look at her knowing exactly where everything is. she'll take a bite on the way back, still casually barefoot and you know john, everyone else would mistake it for a date!! ]
I waged you thought being off guard in my company would lend you in a less pleasant position?
[ she smiles. ]
I have no plans to hurt you, John Watson. Nor do I have any motivation to.
[ she slips into her shoes, high heeled and dark blue and steps past him, all perfume and red lips. a moment before she's gone she'll lean and press a kiss to his cheek. ]
I trust we shall meet again.
[ and then she's gone. the only proof of her being there is her empty cup of tea and a little drawing on the edge of the napkin she used; a well detailed peony in blue ink. ]
Oh god, he just got kissed on the cheek by a Moriarty. A Moriarty. Whatever she says about not intending to hurt him doesn't matter because that is just. Wrong. And uncomfortable. And awful and, god, why him.
As soon as she's out the door, he makes sure it's closed properly and then braces a hand against it, and takes a few deep breaths. Okay. Okay.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action;
He shakes his head. ]
Knowing one Sherlock Holmes doesn't mean you know them all.
[ Once again, it also comes down to why him? ]
action;
[ she frowns, as if the implication is worrisome. sherlock is one of her favorite art pieces, she has no doubt the other would be as interesting. ]
action;
And you wanted to talk to my why exactly? I'm still not following.
action;
[ as if it explains everything. her voice is soft around his name and she leans forward, as if to share a secret. ]
Sherlock may be different but he's still predictably similar. You and Joan however, I cannot see the pattern. Aside of Sherlock, naturally.
action;
Shrug. ]
All right, then. Feel free to share when you work it out.
action;
[ t h i s s m i l e ]
action;
Bugger. ]
It isn't.
action;
You do not seem so certain.
action;
action;
Wasn't it? I could swear.
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[ Her knowing she caught him off guard is better than her thinking he agrees.
Maybe.
On second thought, it probably doesn't make a difference to her either way. He is so rubbish at this. Where's Sherlock when you need him? ]
action;
[ she smiles. ]
I have no plans to hurt you, John Watson. Nor do I have any motivation to.
[ she slips into her shoes, high heeled and dark blue and steps past him, all perfume and red lips. a moment before she's gone she'll lean and press a kiss to his cheek. ]
I trust we shall meet again.
[ and then she's gone. the only proof of her being there is her empty cup of tea and a little drawing on the edge of the napkin she used; a well detailed peony in blue ink. ]
action;
Oh god, he just got kissed on the cheek by a Moriarty. A Moriarty. Whatever she says about not intending to hurt him doesn't matter because that is just. Wrong. And uncomfortable. And awful and, god, why him.
As soon as she's out the door, he makes sure it's closed properly and then braces a hand against it, and takes a few deep breaths. Okay. Okay.
Shit. ]