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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

[riding_crop]

Dear me. No eating on your own? You really do need someone to take control, don't you.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

Never when I'm working a case. Digestion slows down the mental processes.

[He answers before acknowledging her.]

Ms. Adler.

[riding_crop]

Mister Holmes.

I do agree with you in one respect. The human body is a machine.

It requires fuel.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

And when empty, I replenish it. But not when I'm working a case.

[Which isn't completely true. He eats when he's working a case, just not as much and things that are easier to digest. And he times it better.]

[riding_crop]

You should let me take you to task for such self-neglect.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

I would think you would have learned your lesson about sentiment, Ms. Adler.

[riding_crop]

There is nothing sentimental about what I am offering to do to you, Mister Holmes.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

I still haven't begged for mercy.... ever.

[And he never will.]

[riding_crop]

Stubborn thing.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

How... observant of you.

[Yes, that was a critique.]

[riding_crop]

[Soft laughter.]

Must everything be a battle?

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

You call it so.

[He would say 'balance.']