[ The older man, in the meantime, settles against the crook in one of the roots, setting his parcel aside and slowly stretching his legs. John doesn't have an answer for him, of course. He thinks of cabs and how many hours he must have spent in them just within the past two years. Probably more than the rest of his earlier life combined. Cabs were expensive, especially in London. Were it not for Sherlock, John would have very certainly been packing his way into the tube, and had whenever he was on his own. ]
Do you plan to say anything about it?
[ It falls out of him before he's quite realized, but after a moment of pressed lips and a swallow, he sets his hand on his chin and looks away. He doesn't indicate what he's talking about, but it's clearly not cabs. ]
no subject
Do you plan to say anything about it?
[ It falls out of him before he's quite realized, but after a moment of pressed lips and a swallow, he sets his hand on his chin and looks away. He doesn't indicate what he's talking about, but it's clearly not cabs. ]
Anything at all?