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Summary
As if John and Sherlock don't have enough problems already (that whole Sherlock getting shot by Mary thing), now there's a cold case detective from Canada snooping around asking questions about Moriarty.
Kate took her time, wanting to give him time to get settled. When she returned, John had cleared away the tea and Sherlock was sitting in the leather chair wearing sweat pants and a faded white t-shirt under a blue silk bathrobe.
She didn’t know men still wore silk bathrobes.
Thinner than his pictures, paler too. All cheekbones and unruly dark hair. Blue eyes dulled by the pain meds. Needs to shave. Bare feet. Holds one arm against his chest. Like he’s literally trying to hold himself together. Is he aware that he’s doing that?