Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Feb 13, 2012 21:16:00 GMT
*Harry steps out of the elevator on the ground floor, looking better than she feels. She's wearing a fitted red dress, short and clingy to take advantage of her pre-baby body. Her hair has been swept into a chignon behind her left ear, and her lips are painted scarlet. Black flats complete the outfit, and she's clinging to a black clutch bag with shaking hands. Her left ankle is still bandaged, and Harry's limping.
She walks over to the bar and orders a virgin martini, before glancing around to see if Sherlock's arrived. She catches sight of herself in a mirror and winces - the thickest make up can't truly cover up the bruise on her right cheek, and Sherlock's unlikely not to notice.*
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Mar 1, 2012 14:33:55 GMT
*Sherlock enters the hotel that Harry told him to meet her at, motorised wheelchair's motor humming. He is trying not to reveal his distress at his own state--he has regained slight movement in his arms and legs, but nowhere near enough to support him, and with his hair so close-cropped, looks an entirely different person*
*there is a tall man behind him, clearly his medical bodyguard, who wouldn't look out of place as a bouncer at a nightclub*
*he figures that, even pregnant, old habits die hard and Harry is likely to be found at the bar*
*people stare as the man in the motorised wheelchair and his bodyguard glide past--there is still prejudice in the world, after all, and now Sherlock is on the receiving end of some of it*
Ah, Harry.
*he takes in all the physical details of her injuries*
Busy day?
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Mar 1, 2012 15:00:05 GMT
*Harry turns to face him, unable to ignore the relief flooding through her veins as she sees the only man who can help her. She's still nervous - she's been in a constant state of panic for days now, but manages some composure as she slips elegantly off her bar-stool and bends down to kiss Sherlock on both cheeks*
Moi, mon cher? All in a day's work.
*She stands back up and takes a sip of her drink, indicating to the barman that they are ready for their table*
And there was me thinking you were going to stand me up. How was your flight?
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Mar 2, 2012 0:33:00 GMT
Oh, the usual. Boring. Bad in-flight food, predictable films, and some mild turbulence. People staring at the poor cripple in the wheelchair.
*he is irritated by this, though not as much as some people*
*the surgical scar on his head is still quite visible through the hair that by now resembles a buzz-cut and he occasionally winces in pain from his injured back and ribs, but overall, he seems back to normal for him*
*reluctantly, he orders soup. He knows that his medical bodyguard is under orders to make sure he eats properly as well, and though it's hard, he can lift a spoon to his own mouth*
Let's skip the small talk and get to the point.
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Mar 2, 2012 7:46:07 GMT
Quite. *she turns to the waiter and orders a steak - well cooked.*
How's John?
*she takes a sip of water, her eyes wandering around the room. The nearest English speakers - an American couple - are four tables away. They can talk here*
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Mar 2, 2012 12:54:46 GMT
I thought we were skipping the small talk.
*he has ordered an onion and potato soup. His French is not quite up to Harry's standard, but it is by no means rusty, either*
*the bodyguard, called Quinn, has ordered quiche*
In direct answer to your question, he's still in bed with the flu. Hardly relevant to the situation, I think, though sentiment rarely is. Now. Get to the point.
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Mar 2, 2012 13:40:03 GMT
Lovely to see you too Sherlock, really.
She looks at her fingernails. Her brain is having trouble adjusting to English after days immersed in Paris, and the bruise on her cheek still stings*
I met with Manuel two days ago. He was pleased to see me, thank God, but he's not giving anything away. I've been invited to meet him tomorrow morning at one of his warehouses. You're coming too, as my business associate. Hopefully he'll give us the names of people Moriarty works with.
*Her steak arrives, and she realises how hungry she is. Her main craving so far has been meat, as well as alcohol and cigarettes.*
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Mar 2, 2012 18:31:14 GMT
*Sherlock's soup is piping hot, and he relishes the thought of having a proper meal for the first time in quite a while. He strains to lift the spoon to his mouth, but he'll be damned if anyone else is going to feed him. It's plain that this meal is going to be a long one*
Meeting a known crime advocate in a warehouse in a foreign country. Clever, well-thought-out plan. No chance whatsoever of it being a trap.
*his inability to function physically has made him more acrid than usual*
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Mar 2, 2012 19:14:32 GMT
Will it ever occur to you I might actually know what I'm doing?
*She looks at her steak. Asking for well cooked had resulted in something barely medium, just as Harry liked it. She takes a delicate mouthful, before looking at Sherlock with intense eyes*
He needs to trust us. We do things on his terms - for now. Besides, he's relatively harmless. He's actually quite religious. Spilling blood is not his preferred way of dealing with things.
*the waiter comes over to see how they are. Harry beams*
Parfait, comme toujours. Merci. Est-ce ce serait possible d'avoir le clé pour la chambre de mon frère? Merci.
"Perfect, as always. Thank you. Would it be possible to have my brother's room key? Thanks."
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Mar 2, 2012 19:21:36 GMT
*raises an eyebrow*
Brother this time?
*takes another laborious bite of soup*
I didn't mean that Manuel would be the source of trouble. I simply meant that in gathering together three pests, Moriarty could take us all out with one fell swoop, if the whim took him, and don't think for an instant he doesn't know about the meeting. He may not, but it is always best to assume that he does.
*reaches for his glass of water and to his dismay finds it too heavy for his weakened arms to lift*
*shuts his eyes, clenches his jaw, and decides to cover up his irritation by taking another bite of soup--he is not going to be treated like an invalid*
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Mar 2, 2012 19:30:58 GMT
We're not sharing a room, I'm clearly not here on business - *she gestures to her dress* - and you're hardly the most amiable person to pretend to be best friends with. You're a brother already. I figured it was easiest.
*The look on her pale, bruised face suggests she is not a stranger to pretending to be someone she's not*
And as for Moriarty, if he's there then all the better. Manuel doesn't have children. I worked for him for a long time. He'll look after me against Jim, that's for sure.
Once again I seem to be trying to prove that I'm not completely devoid of common sense. So tell me, mon frère, is there any point in continuing, or are you simply determined I'm utterly stupid?
There was me thinking this might border on pleasant.
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Mar 2, 2012 19:55:28 GMT
No more stupid than most of the people with whom I regularly find myself.
*flashes his annoyed smile as he strains once again to take a bite of soup*
*shudders suddenly, and Quinn steps forward with a thermometer that one places against the temple*
"37.4. Try not to exert yourself, Mr. Holmes."
I'm eating. That's hardly exertion.
*he glares*
*the hotel worker brings over their keys*
"Good. You'll be able to rest soon."
I. Am not. An invalid!
"I didn't say that, Mr. Holmes, I just meant that you still need your rest."
No, you just meant that the poor brain-damaged man in the wheelchair ought to be spending most of his time in bed.
*Quinn sighs and shakes his head*
*Sherlock slams his fist down with all the energy he can muster, which isn't really all that much*
I'm not going to stay bedridden. I'm in Paris for a reason. My physical condition doesn't matter. It's the work that counts. It's stopping Moriarty somehow.
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Mar 2, 2012 20:19:53 GMT
*Harry nods, still eating her steak and largely ignoring Sherlock's outburst*
Of course darling.
*She glances at her phone - brand new, again - before looking up*
Well you've 'got spirit', as my father used to say, I'll give you that. That and being a bona fide genius puts you in good stead overall.
However, Mr Stubborn, I need you conscious tomorrow. So please, no more tantrums.
Now - she returns to her steak - about tomorrow. I've got the address, and a car. French taxis are so unreliable. It's not too far fom here,and he's meeting us at nine. How does that sound?
*Her phone buzzes on the table, but she ignores it, keeping her eyes on Sherlock.*
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Mar 2, 2012 20:36:09 GMT
It was not a tantrum. I'm thirty-six, not six.
*sighs--he is tired, not to mention feverish, but is extremely reluctant to admit it*
Yes. Acceptable.
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Mar 2, 2012 20:40:12 GMT
Good. I hate talking shop over dinner. Christ this steak is good, do you want to try some?
*She waves a forkful of slightly bloody meat in his general direction. She's relaxing slightly, almost enjoying her first evening out without a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc for moral support*
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