"I would advise against your current inclination, Leem."
Leem flopped his head to the side and looked over at where Sherlock Holmes sat.
The man was not of this world. Now, Leem didn't believe in aliens, but he was sure if ever there was one was disguised and hiding amongst the human ranks, it was this fellow who billed himself as the world's only consulting detective. The man rarely ate. He never slept. Yet, he could be explosively dangerous in a heartbeat.
"How did ya know I was awake?"
"The disquiet of your thoughts is disturbing my peace. Go to sleep, Leem. Your snoring would be less deafening and infinitely less annoying than what's rattling around inside your skull."
Leem sat up with a huff. "Maybe if I didn't 'ave to share a double wit Fil when there's a perfectly good spare goin' ta waste, I could sleep better."
Sherlock flicked his fingers at the second, unused bed in the hotel room. "It's all yours."
Leem looked at his brother, face down and drooling into the pillow beside him. He hadn't even moved their entire exchange.
"You know, forget it. I can't sleep anyways. I'm goin' for a walk."
He reached for his hoodie, yanked it on and stepped into his trainers. It was habit for him to be otherwise completely dressed and ready to go at a moment's notice, even when sleeping, during a job. Normally, that meant he'd be outfitted in a simple black suit, black dress shirt and tie but on this case, he'd had to dress down. He, or anyone of them for that matter, would have stuck out like a sore thumb driving around wearing a thousand pound suit in a Skoda that cost a third that price.
"You shouldn't go over there," Sherlock counselled.
Leem turned and glowered at him. "I don' know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do. Don't play the idiot with me, Mr. Coley."
Leem seethed and waved his hand dismissively. "I'll do a round and be right back."
"She's still awake. Resist the urge to check in."
Leem groaned. "I have no designs on Kat- I mean, Dr. Adams. I ain't keen to get myself fired, if that's what you're on about."
Sherlock clucked his tongue. "Please, Mycroft can hardly fire you for something he is guilty of himself. No, Leem, you shouldn't go over there because it would reek of hypocrisy."
The man was infuriating. Leem wiped his hand over his hair before he looked at him again. His eye twitched in frustration.
"I know I'm going ta regret this, and I'm not asking 'cause I 'ad any plans to do so, mind. But why?"
A smile revealed his tormentor's white teeth. "You turned her down. No doubt, you claimed it had to do with some trivial moral compunction or something. If you go there now, with nothing having changed except your mind, she'll think you capricious for having abandoned your principles so quickly."
Leem sighed. "Christ almighty, you're an irritatin' prick, you know?"
He shrugged. "I usually am when I'm right."
"So, you're saying she won't . . ."
"Touch you with a ten foot pole right now? Nope, sorry."
Leem groaned. "Fuck. I don't understand women."
"Clearly."
Leem lifted his brow and crossed his arms. "Okay, Mr. Ladykiller, what do you advise I do, then?"
Sherlock huffed. "Mr. Coley, do not mistake my instruction on this matter as any indication that I care at all about facilitating anything between you and Dr. Adams. I seek only to avoid having you embarrass yourself and make the three hour journey we must all complete together even more awkward than it is already going to be."
Leem shook his head. He was fed up and tired of being treated like the excrement underneath the boots of the Holmes.
"You know what? I don't know why I thought you might 'ave anything helpful ta say. I never saw a man 'ave it as easy as you had it with Mrs. Holmes and manage ta mangle it almost beyond repair. If not for her doin' what she did, and caring about you as much as she does, you wouldn't be sitting here today with that smug look on yer face. You'd be a sad, broken man, Mr. Holmes. You might not 'ave an extra care or two to spare, but don' think for a moment you aren't entirely dependent on the cares of others."
He wondered for a moment if Sherlock was going to knock him out for his rant as his eyes contracted (on account he dared mention the missus) but the large man just sat in his chair. In the dim light, it wasn't very easy to gauge his expression. Leem stepped back towards the door, ready to bolt. He knew better than to try to take on the git when Fil wasn't in full form. Finally, Sherlock let out a long stream of air and dipped his head.
"Alright, Leem, I'll concede that point," he murmured.
Leem's mouth fell open. "Y-you will?"
"Yes, but Leem . . ."
Leem took another step towards the door.
Sherlock folded his hands together and sat forward. His eyes glinted dangerously.
"Twice have I let you get away with bringing my wife into our conversations out of deference for the service you provided her. Don't make the mistake of thinking I will allow a third."
Leem nodded quickly. "Fair enough, Mr. Holmes. I'll go now."
"That would be wise."
Leem jogged down the hall, found his way to the exit and down the spiral, metal stairs attached to the building. He walked the far end of the parking lot as he glanced up to the fourth floor of the hotel to the sole room that was still lit from within by a bedside lamp. Despite Sherlock Holmes' advice, he still wanted to go knock on its door but not to try to hook up with Kat. He felt the need to apologize to her for being so miserably clueless.
He sighed. Sherlock was right, though. She wouldn't welcome a visit from him so instead, he concentrated on ensuring their security perimeter remained. He hadn't liked this choice in hotel which well out of the downtown core of the small city. It was too open and accessible in his opinion, but he also hadn't wanted to argue with their exalted leader who thought they should be away from the city and curious eyes.
He studied the large greenspace opposite of the hotel with a wary eye as he stepped from shadow to shadow. He didn't mind the large open field as it made spotting trouble coming easier but then there were the trees. Not a lot of them, but enough to make a true security professional twitch. Any time there were obstacles that provided natural cover, it was so much harder to discern organic shapes within them. That's why Leem preferred urban areas. An assassin trying to move about had a lot harder time blending in against brick and blocks.
He rounded the back of the hotel where their little Skoda sat. Tomorrow they'd have the new belt and they'd be on their way, but as soon as Leem's eyes fell on their hatchback, the hairs bristled on the back of his neck. Instantly, he was on alert and scanned the rear lot. He cursed silently. More trees!
The Skoda had moved. To anyone else, even Mr. Holmes and his keen eye, they might not have seen the difference but Leem could see it plain as day. Not many people knew it, but he had a photographic memory for the measure of things. The car had shifted between the lines by about a half inch and the tread pattern had moved up (he wedged a pebble in one of the grooves earlier). What did that mean for the little car? He didn't know and he didn't care. He wasn't going near it. He still had shrapnel in his back from the last time he'd second guessed himself.
He shifted side to side on his feet and watched as the angle of light from the parking lot lamp changed across the windows of the car. Then he saw a handprint square in the middle of the passenger's side window. A window he'd meticulously cleaned just hours before. He bit the inside of his lip. Yup, someone had braced themselves as they'd rolled the car backwards.
He fished a cigarette package from his pocket and a lighter and lit up a cigarette. He didn't smoke, was a tad allergic to the fumes actually, but it was a handy cover for a late night walk. He took a drag. He felt the eyes on him from the trees. Fuckers! He knew they were up there. He puffed another drag, careful not to inhale. It tasted Godawful but it was better to die a little this way than give himself away and die right fucking then.
Casually, he turned back and sauntered towards the hotel exit he'd left through earlier. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He pretended to chuckle at something he saw on the screen and then thumbed in a text which he sent off to Sherlock and his brother Fil.
Felicia's been disturbed. There are birds in the trees. Be there in two. If not, get Kat and GET OUT. -L