"It was a good shot," Sherlock admitted between bites of steamed dumpling. John turned away, a humble grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You know," the blogger said, "people don't shoot strange cabbies for men they've just met. In their real lives."
"Don't they?" the detective asked without looking up from his lo mein. "What do they do, then, in their real lives?"
"Have jobs. Spend time with friends." John lowered his voice. "Go on dates."
Sherlock glanced up at the candle on the table, then over to John, and finally back at his meal. He smiled.
"Dull."
