[audio]

[worldsonly]

Ms Adler. If you've experienced any particularly grievous injuries over the last couple of years before your arrival here, be prepared to deal with them again. Don't bother with the hospital, obviously, it'll be full of idiots coming in to cry about papercuts and old stove burns.

If not, it would perhaps be in Shinichi's best interest if you looked after him for the next few days. John is -- not well, and I don't -- ggnk --

[ there's a clatter, then the sound of violent choking for several seconds as well as a scratching, as if fingers were being scrabbled over the surface of the phone, until it disconnects and sends the audio. unfortunately (or fortunately?) for Sherlock, the buttons he unintentionally selected were for the public option. ]

Comments

[worldsonly]

Yes, thank you. [ the eyeroll he gives her is that of a scolded child. ] It's not my first... attempted throttling.

[ except he'd have probably just laid there and wheezed for a while until john needed another dose of analgesic or something, so her intervention is probably for the best. still, good luck getting him to admit it. she's not wrong, he is insufferable. ]

[herrin]

Somehow I'm less than surprised.

[ two can play that game. but if he's insufferable, she's equally so at times, so they really can't compete. it doesn't bother her to just sit here, next to him, until he feels he's ready to stagger to his feet. ]

Where is the good Doctor? In bed?

[worldsonly]

[ no one ever seems to be surprised to hear about how many times people have tried to kill Sherlock...

he nods, flinching slightly at the strain it puts on his neck. ]

Having a nice cuddle with the good drugs.

[ he does go to pull himself up now, looking increasingly better-colored in the face if not the throat, and pulls out his phone to use as a mirror and peer at the marks. ]

[herrin]

[ she follows behind him when he stands and hesitates, before pressing a hand against his back to steady him. she's eyeing the marks herself, much harder when he's not on the ground. ]

What happened?

[ to john, to him. and why was she still ok? ]

[worldsonly]

Well, old wounds are coming back. His was a bullet hole.

This one's less exciting, attempted murder by giant Czech assassin. Could have been any number of worse things, really.

[herrin]

Old wounds.

[ she's pale, suddenly, though she doesn't offer any sort of explanation. perhaps she'd gotten off lucky, this time. ]

Could have been much worse, I imagine. Still, you ought to have a cup of tea. I'll put it on.

[ let's just .. bustle into the kitchen before he uses that ridiculously keen brain of his. ]

[worldsonly]

[ amused: ] Naturally. Tea for all ailments.

[ he doesn't miss her reaction -- of course, that was why he'd been trying to warn her. it didn't take a detective to deduce she might have a bit more than a few bumps and bruises in her background, and that's not even taking into account how he found her in Pakistan. ]

We brought home half of John's clinic, so if you wind up needing something, it's at your disposal.

[herrin]

We are English, aren't we?

[ come now, sherlock, don't stoop to denying tea.

she sets the kettle on, pulling out two mugs and teabags for herself as though she owns the place (though she doesn't, she knows where everything is), and nudges a chair out at the table for him. the look she throws him is clear - sit. now. ]

Did you find him? After he was .. reinjured?