"John. John. John. John. John." Sherlock chanted as he loomed over his head like a small tornado which had swallowed an alarm clock. He already had two suitcases packed, a set of clothes for John laid out over a chair and a cab waiting outside their door and was by now was convinced that his partner was willfully staying unconcious for the sole purpose of making them late.
"Mmsher... s'early." John blinked sleepily, pulling the blankets over his ears to shield himself from the detective's imposing shadow.
"John. We have to be at the telair station in an hour." Sherlock growled back, pulling the covers off him completely. John groaned in defeat and sat up.
"Telair... Why?" John croaked, not yet capable of speaking sentence consisting of more than one word.
Sherlock half pulled him up to his feet. "Because planes are too tedious and dangerous. Now get dressed." While John was still in a confuzed, tired haze, Sherlock was buzzing around him. Tugging his arms this way and that and manuvering him into a shirt.
"How is getting blasted apart and put back together a thousand miles away less dangerous than planes?" John mumbled blearily as Sherlock reached both arms around him to do up the buttons on his shirt. If he were any more awake, he'd bark at him for treating him like a child. But at this point he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't still dreaming.
"Too many humans involved. Teleportation is a simple mechanized procedure. One machine. One person to push buttons. Get scanned. Get zapped. Done. There are too many variables with planes. When was the last time the pilot slept? Has the pilot been drinking? Was the engineer who last repaired the plane qualified? Is the stewardess going to have a psychotic break and kill everyone aboard? Is the baby in aisle 3 going to throw up on me? Is a flock of geese going to fly into the engine? If this beef actually horsemeat? Is this horsemeat actually poisoned? And don't get me started on the radiation." He ranted on as he quickly combed through John's hair. Sherlock thanked god for his soldier's naturally simplistic nature as he swiped his fingers over John's scalp. Only a few minutes and he's as presentable as always.
"So... we're going somewhere?" Sherlock rolled his eyes and damned his soldier's naturally simplistic nature.
The detective glared at the back of John's head as he pulled on his trousers, oblivious to Sherlock's fury. "...I told you two weeks ago in the smallest, simplest words possible that you must be ready by four this morning because we have a case America. Laziness is one thing, John but your blatant ignorance is quite another."
"Was I... in the room when you told me?" John asked patiently, pulled a jumper over his head.
Sherlock's lip twitched downward. He hated it when John had a reasonable point. "Well, it's hardly my job to be keeping track of your every move, now is it?" John sighed, suppressing his frustration and annoyance in a valiant effort not to get into a meaningless fight this early in the morning.
"God, falling in love with you was a bad idea." John groaned, rubbing the rest of the sleep out of his eyes.
"Well..." Sherlock's eyelashes fluttered over his cheeks as a haughty smirk tugged at his lips. "You can't say I didn't warn you."
A gentle kiss passed between them and although neither of the two were prone to sudden outbursts of sentiment, they both could've sworn the first light of dawn cracked in the other's eyes.
"You didn't warn me." John mumbled, suddenly deciding that a meaningless fight might actually be the perfect thing to wake him up.
"Of course I did!" He growled, seizing the small suitcase he had packed for John and shoving it into his hands.
"You told me that you're anti-social and you play the violin." John protested as he accepted the case. "Hardly a proper warning considering the flat was attacked by neo-ninjas the other day."
"Please. I practically have a flashing sign over my head saying 'BAD IDEA'. Lord only knows what Molly was thinking when she created me." Sherlock ranted on as they marched out of 221b.
"This is a total waste of time." A different, taller John growled bitterly through his teeth. He crossed his arms, causing his muscles to bulge like over-inflated balloons. The end result of this was of course making him look tougher than a battering ram covered in low grit sandpaper. He never liked waiting.
"Patience. He'll get here." Dorian sighed, leaning back on the far wall. Blue lights danced over his cheek as he stared aimlessly at the various telair portals and the people streaming through them. Or at least he appeared to be. The great thing about being an android is you can play angry birds any time, anywhere.
"He was supposed to be here an hour ago." Kennex growled at the dingy metal ceiling as if personal insults against his mother were scratched into it. "Why're we even here? We don't need help on this case."
Dorian shut off his game (he wasn't getting anywhere with it anyways) and gave him a look.
Kennex gave it back. "Well, not from a different country."
"The entire department is drawing up a blank-"
"We just hit a snag." Kennex cut in.
"-and the killings keep happening." Dorian's gaze wandered back to the glowing telair portals, letting silence speak for him.
"...Ok fine. We need help." Kennex admitted through gritted teeth, uncrossing an arm and scratching at his scalp. "But not from some foreigner-"
"It's England, man. There's not that big of a cultural gap. And that sounds really-"
"Yeah. I heard it too." Kennex said with grimace. "But what I meant was, we shouldn't have to cross country lines. What makes you so sure he's trustworth-"
"Shut up, there's someone coming through the london portal." Dorian hissed, watching someone slowly materialize in one of the glass cylinders lining the walls.
He started as a mass of molecules whizzing about the portal space. Then slowly, he was pieced together from the cloud like an infinitely complicated puzzle. In about four to five seconds, a fully formed person stood in the tube. He blinked at the shock of materialization and scanned around his new location. For the purposes of easing the post-teleportation shock, all telair stations are made to look the same. So he saw nothing drastically new in his surroundings. Just a different crowd of people and the words 'NEW YORK, NEW YORK, AMERICA' spread across the walls in glowing silver instead of 'LONDON, ENGLAND'. A blue scanner beam ran down the length of the tube, then up again. Making absolutely certain that every molecule was in it's place. Then as the scan was deemed complete, the cylinder opened up and and the portal attendant guided the dazed and temporarily blinded man out, handed him a glass of water and indicated where he could pick up his luggage.
Kennex walked over to the man when after he appeared to have gained his bearings, not even noticing when Dorian told him to wait. "Sherlock Holmes?"
"That's not-" Dorian warned, two seconds too late.
The man huffed a laugh and shook his head, remembering the time that ridiculous assumption nearly got him disintergrated. "He'll be here in a moment. You're... John Kennex and DRN-0167?"
"Call me Dorian." The android smiled good-naturedly, offering his hand to shake. Kennex simply grunted an affrimative. Waiting against a wall for half an hour tended to make him grumpy.
"Right, of course. I'm John Watson, Sherlock's flatmate. Please excuse our lateness. There was an... issue on the other end." John grimaced apologetically as a second cloud formed in the cylinder. "And here he comes now. Try not to punch him too hard."
Sherlock materialized like a storm brewing on the horizon. He threw open the portal door before the scan finished and brushed away the protesting attendant like a fly.
"Where's the body." Were the first words from his mouth.
"Uh." Kennex responded, shooting a questioning glance at his partner who was too busy smile-grimacing to answer.
"Show me the body or, as god as my witness, I will make one." He growled, teeth bared and eyes narrowed to slits.
"Sherlock." John warned, hoping they wouldn't get arrested for threating a cop.
"Ever so sorry. Sherlock Holmes." He said through still bared teeth, offering his hand for a shake. "Now where's the body."