Work Text:
Halloween makes it hard to decipher real cops… from sexy men dressed up as them. SH
John blinks at the text. Opens his mouth. Closes it. Finally, he thumbs out a reply:
Just how drunk are you?
He taps his fingers as he waits.
Not at all.
SH
John frowns.
Then what was that text about?
He doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.
Simply remarking on the date’s usefulness regarding my current disguise. SH
John laughs…then considers. He reads back up to the first text of the night, then reads the latest reply. John shifts in his seat as he reads the reply yet again.
I see you’re not going to fight me on my choice of descriptors. SH
Sherlock’s text may as well go in the tally of My Flatmate Might Be Psychic moments John has stored up - or it will once John is capable of thinking beyond these particular exchange.
John blinks as he realises something about himself, ever so quietly and ever so calmly. He grins and sends:
No, I’m really not.
And waits.