Chapter Text
1. Bonding
Can you come over to the brownstone?
Well, that was non descriptive. Considering how much Sherlock can speak for someone who supposedly hates small talk, that wasn't really that surprising. He had only truly started being a sponsor for a week and this was the first message he had gotten from the man since the night he had managed to wrangle him into a little carjacking.
The entire time Sherlock had tried to keep him in sight, even when he was standing behind the jumpy man. Still managed to jack the car, not beating his record of course, but close enough to it to be impressed. The guy knew his car alarms.
Still, his sponsee was still pretty new to the whole recovery thing and this is his first time with a sponsor. He'd talked about it with his own sponsor and found that some sponsees were jittery about beginning the whole process, especially if they had trust issues. Considering how much Sherlock wanted to do it all on his own and fought tooth and nail for independence, that seemed to be more the problem than trust.
He could see that trust was also an issue though, so instead of answering with a simple sure or no, he went with a question of his own. You ok?
Fine. Came the reply a few moments later. A little later Watson has decided that a bonding exercise might help make me feel more comfortable with a sponsor joined it.
Funny how Joan had warned him that Sherlock generally used nothing but shorthand in texts and here he was using full sentences. Alfredo shrugged, because at least he knew that everything was going okay over in their space. Joan looking out for her client. Seemed about right. She was trying to get Sherlock ready for living life without drugs again and done a pretty decent job of it so far.
He felt slightly optimistic that at least this time, Sherlock seemed ready to invite him in a bit and accept his role as sponsor. Even if this wasn't an emergency situation and seemed to be getting outside his role a bit, at least it was putting in effort. So, he sent back a quick. Sure. Be there in 20min.
Will be waiting.
* * * * * * * * * *
This was not what he had thought would be happening. He imagined tea or coffee. Maybe hot chocolate at a pinch. He imagined going over relapse triggers and what set Sherlock off. He had gone out and bought some donuts with him for a snack, only to find out what Sherlock had deemed fit as a bonding exercise.
"It took me a good hour sorting these into their new formation and I just thought, well, you like getting past car alarms, lock picking isn't too much difference. It's a valuable skill to learn, especially in my line of business. I change the formation at least once a week to keep it fresh. This is from largest to smallest. Easy pickings for a beginner."
That pun was atrocious. He stared blankly at the two large trellises filled with locks, all of them closed, all ready to be picked. Each one was a different brand, from a different country, with a different kind of locking mechanism. There's no way he'd pick it up as fast as Sherlock thought he would. "You do know that locks are nothing like car alarms, right?"
He got back just as blank a stare at that, a frown seemed plastered on Sherlock's face. "Actually, it's just the mechanics is a bit different. I do however have a collection of house and business alarms if you'd rather something more similar to what you're used to. That just seems a tad bit too...you know, easy. New skills. Watson is learning, so should you."
That made him blink. "You're teaching Joan to pick locks?"
That made the frown disappear and a small smile replace it. "Yes! A surgeon's skill with a scalpel actually helps in her case. She took to it quite fast. Now, if I could get Detective Bell to learn as well, we would all be caught up in lock picking skills."
Alfredo closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "You do know this is illegal, don't you?"
Sherlock grinned. "No more than you picking car alarms apart. The police are quite aware that they are here, that I can pick them and do so frequently. It's putting it in use in the field in front of police I can't do, and even then, sometimes there are situations where they need someone with the ability to pick locks and they will call on me."
When actually put like that, it didn't sound as bad and did come across as part of the job. He quirked an eyebrow, took another look at the huge collection of locks and nodded. "Sounds cool. Fine, show me the tools and let's see how bad I am at lock picking."
By the end of the day, he had his own set of lock picks. He refused to take them outside the brownstone for now, because like hell he wanted to be caught dead with them on his person anywhere near a cop in the city.
At least Sherlock was now treating him more like a person and less a nuisance he had to put up with.