But it has been a very long time since Sherlock Holmes was last backhanded. It connects, and he has the sense to know John could have hit harder, but he doesn't really think about that. Not like he normally would. Because there's a hand on the jacket collar-- two hands.
His own hand grabs the fabric of John's shirt, twists it as his shoulders square. Preparing to attack? Or defend himself from anything else?
For a moment, it's pure instinct in those light eyes, an unstable fire.
But he holds John's gaze long enough, really hears what he says, and the detective's taut form begins to relax. His face is stinging, but he's in no danger. This is still John. It's John.
Finally, he nods.]
I won't go after him. Not here. Not unless he comes after me [or you] first.
[A breath. Further consideration of the stinging in his cheek and what it meant the last time he'd been backhanded.]
I'll do the week. Then, you won't have to worry about playing nanny.
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But it has been a very long time since Sherlock Holmes was last backhanded. It connects, and he has the sense to know John could have hit harder, but he doesn't really think about that. Not like he normally would. Because there's a hand on the jacket collar-- two hands.
His own hand grabs the fabric of John's shirt, twists it as his shoulders square. Preparing to attack? Or defend himself from anything else?
For a moment, it's pure instinct in those light eyes, an unstable fire.
But he holds John's gaze long enough, really hears what he says, and the detective's taut form begins to relax. His face is stinging, but he's in no danger. This is still John. It's John.
Finally, he nods.]
I won't go after him. Not here. Not unless he comes after me [or you] first.
[A breath. Further consideration of the stinging in his cheek and what it meant the last time he'd been backhanded.]
I'll do the week. Then, you won't have to worry about playing nanny.