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[ the audio starts with Sherlock's voice in the middle of a sentence, clearly not intended to be recorded: ] -- absurdly boring. Statistically, everyone's too busy having sex or breaking up to commit any decent crimes.
[ but no, it's not just Sherlock sniping to be snotty. another voice fizzes over the line, less distinct, but still audible. ] Oh yeah? Which will you be doing? Though, judging by the wine...
[ sounding uncomfortable and irritated, like the only person allowed to make invasive observations about strangers is himself, ] What about the wine? it's not top shelf but it's serviceable for a perfectly ordinary dinner, there's nothing special to say about it. Just take the card and shut up.
[ the sound of an item being rung up flicker through the recording. cheekily, like the words are accompanied by a knowing smirk, ] Yeah, not TOP shelf, don't want to presume, right? But still good enough to look like you tried, if anyone wants to notice. I see a lot of that around this time, you know.
[ flatly: ] I really don't care.
Sure you don't want to grab another one? Or some chocolates, I bet that'll really surprise 'em. You don't seem the type to make that kinda gesture usually...
[ a pause. ]
Oh for God's -- Fine. That one. No, no cash back. Fantastic. I hope someone breaks something very expensive in a very difficult to clean shelf ten minutes before you close. Goodbye.
[ the tinkle of a door bell rings over the line, and from that point, there's only the sound of expensive loafers tapping against the sidewalk, and the occasional snippet of Sherlock berating himself under his breath: ] Bloody buggering -- the stupidest idea -- idiocy of it all, as if -- wouldn't notice if I hit him with the bottle --
[ text to John Watson, though not as private as one would hope for a text to be: ]
Cashier was strangely insistent on pushing chocolates on me as if they
were somehow more significant today than any other day. Hope you like
truffles, since I have no interest in them.
Italian?
[ but no, it's not just Sherlock sniping to be snotty. another voice fizzes over the line, less distinct, but still audible. ] Oh yeah? Which will you be doing? Though, judging by the wine...
[ sounding uncomfortable and irritated, like the only person allowed to make invasive observations about strangers is himself, ] What about the wine? it's not top shelf but it's serviceable for a perfectly ordinary dinner, there's nothing special to say about it. Just take the card and shut up.
[ the sound of an item being rung up flicker through the recording. cheekily, like the words are accompanied by a knowing smirk, ] Yeah, not TOP shelf, don't want to presume, right? But still good enough to look like you tried, if anyone wants to notice. I see a lot of that around this time, you know.
[ flatly: ] I really don't care.
Sure you don't want to grab another one? Or some chocolates, I bet that'll really surprise 'em. You don't seem the type to make that kinda gesture usually...
[ a pause. ]
Oh for God's -- Fine. That one. No, no cash back. Fantastic. I hope someone breaks something very expensive in a very difficult to clean shelf ten minutes before you close. Goodbye.
[ the tinkle of a door bell rings over the line, and from that point, there's only the sound of expensive loafers tapping against the sidewalk, and the occasional snippet of Sherlock berating himself under his breath: ] Bloody buggering -- the stupidest idea -- idiocy of it all, as if -- wouldn't notice if I hit him with the bottle --
[ text to John Watson, though not as private as one would hope for a text to be: ]
Cashier was strangely insistent on pushing chocolates on me as if they
were somehow more significant today than any other day. Hope you like
truffles, since I have no interest in them.
Italian?
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