Sherlock shooed off the bartender once again, with a wave of his left hand. The last thing he needs right now is to be drunk (although it was a temptation. And a strong one at that). He just needed to be able to think.
Luckily, he was in the one place he could to that. It was literally impossible for Mycroft to watch, hear, or even follow him into this particular bar. The perception filter surrounded the bar was a lovely little favor from an old friend of his. The Perception Filter to Mycroft is Crime Scenes to Anderson. Very helpful indeed.
He tapped his fingers against the wooden table, and tried to shut out the world. It was always so noisy. Sherlock was going to make this decision tonight. It was not often he found himself torn between what was right, and what he wanted.
Sherlock lowered his gaze down to his right arm, hanging against his chest in a sling, and covered in a purple cast. Useless thing. He had to learn how to do everything lefthanded now, which was quite a hindrance. He only had a broken arm, and a few bruised parts. While John was still in the
He needed to stop drifting towards thoughts like those. That's what got him into this situation in the first place.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you here."
Ah. Of course he'd show up at a time like this.
A (seemingly) young man sat opposite of him and smiled lightly. He felt his eyes take in his state.
"You've gotten yourself into trouble again, Sherlock. Sometimes I think you anger more people than I do."
He said nothing. If he wanted to lecture him, he would, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was worse than Mycroft at times.
"I know what your thinking about doing. I can see it in your face."
Sherlock looked up at the Doctor and glared at him.
"Not like you haven't bee thinking about doing the same to your friends. The Ponds, was it?"
The Doctor flinched.
"He's slowing me down. I'm better off without him." Sherlock said.
However good he was at lying, the Doctor knew better. He heard what Sherlock was really trying to say.
I'm putting him in harm's way, and he's better off without me. Something that Sherlock could barely come to terms with, let alone actually say aloud.
"Funny thing is though, Sherlock Holmes, I think you'll be worse off without Dr. Watson."
The Doctor got up, and straightened that stupid bow of his. He began to walk away, but he whirled around.
"And it would be nice if you swallowed your pride and visited the poor man once in a while." And he was off. The Doctor could never stay in one place for very long.
Sherlock sighed. Damn him.
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