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[highfunctioning_sociopath]

Mundane.

This is positively ridiculous.  I don't want to go anywhere! I am perfectly content at 221B.  

On the one hand, there's no one there.  Literally, there's nobody. I can sit and think for days on end and no one will pester me with eating or watching telly or 'help me with this completely obvious problem that I'm too dull to work out for myself.' 

On the other? It also means John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Molly and Mycroft aren't about.  And who else will keep me entertained.  They might be average, but I'm used to having them around. And what will become of them, if I'm not around?

Comments

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

You can do whatever you please, it has no baring on me.

[Stoic to a fault.]

[consultingsociopath]

Not any more, at least, according to your position.

[He's being petty and childish now. You know more than he does, thus you're getting the Mycroft Treatment. Enjoy.]

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

Are you really going to sit there analysing yourself? Because none of that matters. At all. Ever.

[consultingsociopath]

There are precious few other ways to entertain myself at the minute. Her attention has been diverted, and there's so little of it to go around.

[By which he means his mundane has begun watching the second season.]

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

[He sighs.]

If she is watching it, you'd better go help her. Few catch everything important on the first go around.

[consultingsociopath]

It really is ludicrous they think they can do a decent job with us. But I take your point.

[He'll disappear in a swish of coat (although he'll leave off the deer-stalker, this time. He's quite sick of that after all those newspaper photos).]