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Curse my love of writing assholes!!! Curse it!

I blame Nezu, because I can.

Movieverse Sherlock Holmes Drabble.

Title: I know you know, did you know that? (If you've got something better go one and tell me)
Charecters/Summary: Mary and Sherlock have a quick discussion.
Rating: They're just talking you perverts! ... pg-13 cause it's me.




"And here I thought you disapproved," Mary said when she had successfully cornered him.

Well, cornered in a conventional sense. Realistically he could have avoided her further but all three of the possible escape routes had involved either fire (which added to the rent bill), nudity (the rent thing again since the landlady had imposed a morality fee, blast her) and feigning illness (and Watson was the only doctor here, and knew when he was faking though Holmes acting skills were only ever on the rise).

Well, he'd estimated this happening.

"What makes you think I don't? Don't disapprove, I mean, I didn't realize that I'd done anything that indicated anything other than benign malignancy towards your sure to be blessed union?" he spoke fast and smiled because oft time you could slide in an insult if it sounded polite. You could slide in even more if you sounded naive but she didn't look quite that blunt witted. Watson had /some/ taste there.

Her eyes narrowed, just a fraction and he smiled with even more mildly dazed, good natured obtuseness. "The ring?"

"Oh, that?"

"Yes that. I had it appraised you know,"

"I'm not surprised, but I didn't know," he said. He was brilliant not clairvoyant.

"I thought it might be paste, that size, some clever fake you'd cooked up like the palm reader," she said, holding her hand out, fingers splayed so the royal gem caught the light and became a tiny sun. London light was always dimmed by the constant machinations of man and coal but this counted as radiant nevertheless. "Yes he told me about her, that was perhaps a bit crass don't you think?"

Holmes meditated on the ceiling a moment, checked to see if she'd gone away, and resumed examining the crack in the plaster. It was growing again, he was certain of it, but certainly it was only cosmetic.

"If a walnut sized jewel isn't an indication of acceptance," she said, and he judged her to be at the tail end of her attempt to shame him, "Then what is it?"

"Do me a service, if you please?"

"And what service would that be?"

Holmes sighed. "I assume you have a mind in there somewhere, otherwise you skull would deflate from internal vacuum. Be a dear and use it for a good ten minutes before you speak again?"

If she had been holding a drink, he would have had another perfectly good... No wait. This was technically Watson’s shirt. Watson would think so, certainly. Watson would have had a perfectly good shirt ruined.

He got slapped instead, and then she was storming off. Not that she could storm far; she still had to convince Watson that table that had held a dead man for two days needed the assistance of the flame, not the varnish.

When she stalked back a quarter of an hour later, he hadn't moved from his corner slouch. It was amazing how merely being motionless was just as effective as outright insolence.

She took a breath to raise a hand, possibly to jab an accusing finger, and stopped. Crossed her arms. "You know I know?"

"This is going to be one of those conversations then..." he said, and contrived to look as if he was mentally downshifting.”I'm aware that you know. You see sharp enough to figure a thing like that out, given your own condition, as it were," he shrugged without slouching further, not a small feat with his current weight distribution. "I'm certain that you had your suspicions about him early on and about me... Three minutes after he mentioned me?"

"...Five but I did meet him on the first Monday of March," she said, tone stiff as she struggled not to look around the room at the door.

"Paint thinner will get the smell out as well! I'd wager a pound on it!" Watson was arguing with someone, and probably loosing. Holmes tried not to flinch. It really wasn't his rent anymore. It was Mary's. Watson could do what he liked with that. Really.

"And rent is due on first Tuesday," he didn't ask her if she'd had help working that out, but only because it would waste time. "So you knew that. Yet you were willing to behave nearly sweetly towards me, starting with flattery, and did not feel threatened until I became openly abrasive towards you," he told a spot beyond her left ear. "And your ring and index finger are the same length."

She looked at her hands, automatically as most people did then on a similar instict drew them in, crossing her arms to hide the gesture.

"There are other little tells, if you knowwho's and what to observe. You know, I quite failed to mention, in my initial analysis of you, that your former fiancée had a sister. Perhaps a cousin, who was close to him. Though not as close to him as you?"

She was blushing now. Hot, embarrassed red storm clouds raced over her face.

Holmes smiled. "He doesn't know. Not that you know, and certainly not that you would be open minded about such affairs of the heart. In truth it was just heavy suspicions on my part but you've confirmed it all quite nicely for me." Holmes smiled, patted her shoulder. "I suggest a long talk after the ceremony, and invite you to stay with me at my brothers in the countryside."

Her foot became the pivot point of a fast retreat. He waited until she'd gotten to the door to add, this time sounding almost warm, "My brother employs some lovely chamber maids, if your hesitance is due to a potential lack of amusement on the trip."

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Messypeaches

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