between everything, yourself, and home;

[workaphilic]

Who: John Watson & Sherlock Holmes
What: THE GAME IS ON.
When: June 10th
Where: Running around town.
Rating: PG?? No more than PG-13

Moriarty delivers, if nothing else.

Ask and ye shall receive.

He's not oblivious; he's aware of the mess he's created. It was the (only) solution to his (eternal) problem. But he's better, now. He doesn't make the same mistakes twice.

It's early enough that the air is still light; it's cool for a summer morning. He needs to act quickly, solve this while he still has the benefit of time. (Kind of Jim, to give him advance notice.) The residents are stupid but they aren't slow. (Replays the song in his head, note for note.)

Time constraint makes it better. He feels more alive now than he has in months. (Think, think!)

"Oh."

Just like that, there it is. (The problem: simple. The solution: elegant.) Turn the puzzle on its side and there it is, startling in its clarity.

He can't say it, so he doesn't. He takes off down the street instead.

Comments

[confidente]

The closer to the top they get the more uneasy John feels and the more excited he also gets. Can't help it. Sherlock infected him with all his grinning and danger.

"You hear that?" There's a sound, just on the edge of his hearing. Can't make it out to save his life, but it is there.

[workaphilic]

"Yes." It's nearly a whisper, while he pauses on the stairs to listen. "Too far to identify reliably." Just a moment, and then he's moving again -- quickly, but this time with more attention to stealth.

"Guess we'll have to get closer."

[confidente]

John matches almost instantly, movements quicker though quieter. The soldier in him is shining through with each passing second. He nods, sticking close.