Spoilers: Hounds of Baskerville
Ch 26 in which our hero John is withstanding silence.
The silence in the cab was ok. The silence in the train was understandable. Sherlock never liked people listening to their conversations. But when they exited the train it became ridiculous.
Earlier, Sherlock was all noise and rage and now he was quiet as he can be. That's why John started talking as Sherlock approached the empty car.
"What? Are you going to steal that?" he said as Sherlock opened the door.
"No, I ordered a car. There's no point in waiting for a cab out here. We're not in London," he said dismissingly as a man run to the car with papers in his hand.
Sherlock signed it and entered on the driver's seat.
"You know how to drive," John said when he sat down on the passenger's seat.
"Of course I can drive," Sherlock dismissed it. "I gather useful skills and knowledge. Driving is a useful skill. It's often required, especially when we're forced out here in the wild. I dread to think that we should depend on anyone driving us through the nothingness of this place."
"Cheerful," John looked at the fields around them. "What I meant was do you have a driving permit? If you don't I can drive and you can use your skill you soaked out of a textbook in a car chase or a heist."
"A heist, John?" Sherlock frowned. "I do have a permit. Why would I be without it? It's silly, I could end up in prison for the stupidest reason of failing to fill out few forms. If I'm there at least I want it to be something meaningful, not a missing permit. That would be stupid as ending up in prison from drunkenness."
"Of that, you're not in danger of," John said stiffly.
"Why would you think that I don't have a permit?" Sherlock asked in his more patient voice.
"Because it requires patience and dealing with humans. I just can't picture you standing a driver's instructor and making mistakes, getting your car in the wrong gear, forgetting signal lights or getting it to shut down just as you go."
"Why would I do such things?" Sherlock frowned. "I studied it, and then applied to action, there was no need for an instructor."
"Mycroft thought you how," John said with a smile, no one else would put up with him while dealing something new.
"Yes he did," Sherlock said quickly and after that, there was silence again.
The fields run pass the window and John discovered that he doesn't mind. Sherlock's driving was steady and calm, there was nothing threatening in his entering into curbs, so John relaxed. It seemed that he's been tense for a while now.
Even if he avoided to think about it, Moriarty and his threat sat heavily on John's shoulders. Before he could think of it as a stupid dangerous game Sherlock played with him, but since he's been strapped in explosives John couldn't pretend that he's not involved in that game too.
Out here that seemed far away. In the city, Moriarty could hide in the crowd, between buildings, but out here there was nowhere to hide, just open plains. John didn't mind that.
Suddenly, Sherlock brought them to a halt in the middle of nowhere.
"Baskerville," was all that he said as he exited the car.
John took his map, on which he was making sure they don't get lost out here, and his binocular that seemed useful out here where everything was far away. That was an army habit in him, to be prepared, to watch his enemy from afar.
When he opened the map, Sherlock was already climbing rocks. John wondered how he will get down. Having nothing better to do John navigated the map and said to Sherlock where they were.
After that, there was some more silence while Sherlock stared in the distance. John looked too but all he could see were buildings in the distance. Finally, Sherlock got down from the rocks smoothly jumping on the grass.
He straightened his coat, ruffled his curls and smiled at John but said nothing. John too stayed quiet. Out here it seemed that words are spreading in all directions and who knows who was behind the grass hiding in the plains.
It was a relief to get to the village. People were there as the world was still a sane and safe place. John wondered how that feels like. In the pub, John asked for their room, which Sherlock remembered to reserve to John's name.
"I'm sorry that we couldn't get a double room for you boys," the owner said confusing John.
"We're not…" he started but felt silly to justify himself before a complete stranger.
They did just take a twin room, why would this man care either way, what was it to him.
As the owner charged his bill, John noticed a bill for meat. This was a vegetarian pub so John found that strange. He quickly took the bill and continued to question the owner. He and his partner seemed more than willing to share information. Their assumption about Sherlock and John might even be useful.
John listened to their story and got out to fill in Sherlock just to find him already making inquiries of his own.
John quickly got into the game. Sherlock pretended that there was a bet for a fifty quid and John played along. It was best to. Even if it was a lie, most of the times Sherlock proved to be right. People lied and Sherlock found a way to make them tell the truth.
Soon, the boy showed them an imprint of a giant paw.
"That was fifty," John said casually and Sherlock gave him the bill.
That was a useful side effect. John had paid the room and he doubted that Sherlock would remember that later on, let alone compensate.
Sherlock was already ahead and John followed him as a good soldier should, without questions. It was best to let Sherlock thing when he could do that without voicing it out. Now he seemed more than capable of that.
That's how they ended up entering the top secret military base. John couldn't but reprimand him in a low voice as they entered but it was too late to stop him. Not that John thought that he could stop him. It was some time now since he submitted in doing things Sherlock's way. In the end, he would manage to pull them through.
As he did this time too. In a nick of time and by pure luck of a scientist who knew their faces. That way it was John's doing that they got out, their fame served them well.
He was amused when the hat got mentioned again. Sherlock hated that hat. John sometimes thought that it was because the hat was more famous than Sherlock himself.
They were out of the trouble and free to talk. John asked about the rabbit. It was incredible that they went in and all Sherlock talk about was the glowing in the dark rabbit.
Sherlock smiled and lifted his collar up.
"Oh, please, can we not do this, this time?" John snorted seeing his recognizable move.
"Do what?" Sherlock said innocently.
"You being all mysterious, with your cheekbones, and your collar up so you look cool."
"I don't do that," Sherlock objected.
"Yeah, you do," John said simply knowing that he won't get answers because Sherlock still didn't have them.
John soldiers on.