This is a terrible idea and I am terrible.

[inputs]

Whose side are you on, anyway?

Comments

[consultsdetective]

Oh, you never wanna ask 'em that question.

[inputs]

What?

[ But what he really means: ]

Why?

[consultsdetective]

Because they'll answer it. Thing to know about these characters, Anderson, they'll say they're on your side but they're really on theirs.

[ Our sides are just means to accomplishing what they hope to see being on their sides. THEY WILL SHIP YOU ANDERSON. SHIP YOU AND PUNCH YOU IN THE FEELINGS. ]

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

As always, Anderson, my own side....

[But it was stated with the "You're an idiot" tone.]

[inputs]

When I go completely mental, Sherlock. Only then.

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

[Sherlock looks horrified. Then his eyes narrow.]

Did you just call me by my name?

[womanwhobeatyou]

Are you actually asking or do you already have an idea?

[inputs]

I'm going with both, actually.

[womanwhobeatyou]

Really? What a surprise.

[zordaar]

[Sherlock's tapping away at her phone; in a dry, cool drawl which seeks to suggest that her full attention is far too much to give, she remarks:]

Ah. Stupid question, ineffectual veiled ultimatum, genuine hard-done-by belief that the world is singling you out when unfortunately the real problem in your life is that you are the one living it-- that's got to be bingo.

[inputs]

[ Ah—

O—

Um—

Ahem, right. Not quite catching the big idea, but simply noting how much of a nasty gob this one has. Much like the Sherlock he knows. Of course he would note that, it always goes back to him.

The world revolves around Sherlock, didn't you guys know? ]

I don't believe I asked your opinion.

[zordaar]

[And on that count, actually, they can firmly agree.]

Not in so many words, but as ever, you pine for it.

[She glances up from her phone to actually- shock and horror- look at him for a few moments.]

Oh, come on, it's not that difficult.

[The question of who she is, that would be.]

[inputs]

[ Christ, do these two have dinner and exchange insults? He can see it now. Perfect match for the wacko.

Even the face and hair—this is sickeningly narcissistic. How fitting. ]

I'm sorry?

[zordaar]

[Also known as Sherlock's Ultimate Fantasy, or the kind of thing that makes Watsons (John, Jane or otherwise) wake up in a cold sweat.

With a blithe, false and horrible grin, intentionally misunderstanding:] No no, that's fine, just don't do it again.

Really, though. Is the height difference that drastic? Should I stand on tiptoe? [Because height is definitely the biggest change here.] Come on, make an educated guess. [A beat.] ...Well. Make a guess. Don't let's get over-excited.