toblameforit | (no subject)

"Good, 'cause I'm giving it to Sherry the minute he wakes up."

He crosses to the middle of the room and picks up the coat. Underneath, the flimsy block of Styrofoam is pristine.

Who's the man? He's the man.

"Do you have to? I mean, it's not like we have to rush a confrontation or anything."

Tony does not know what Sherlock is facing. Why won't anyone in this house listen to her about the danger that's right in front of them.

(She bets Jarvis would listen. He seems sensible.)

"Yeah, tell that to Sherlock fucking Holmes." He rolls his eyes fondly. "I'd have to wrestle him to the ground and sit on him all day if I wanted to keep him here."

Note that he does not say 'chain him to the wall' or any variation thereof. This certainly isn't because they have discovered in their experiments that Sherlock is a bit of a Houdini, or anything.

A funny side effect from magic, in addition to that mad adrenaline rush, is a spike in libido. Magical energies are sensual, after all, and when teenagers use them - well, let's just say that Alyce has had some very interesting encounters after coven gatherings.

"I could think of some ways to distract him."

Oh. Did she say that out loud? In that tone of voice? Shit.

"With books," she adds quickly. Probably too quickly. "Plans. That sort of thing."

Change the subject, change the subject, change the subject.

"So has Sherlock always been like that? With the detective thing going on?"

Tony flashes a broad grin.

"Books. Sure." But, graciously, he goes with the change of subject. "Yeah, since—"

Crap.

"—well, since we were fourteen."

Tony is such a bad liar. Since when is three or four years 'always'?

Alyce may or may not keep close track, so it's all good.

"Oh, so you are the same age? I wondered, since he's behind you in school."

Tony might be a good source of Sherlock-related information. Sweet!

"I skipped a year. He didn't."

She nods. "That makes sense."

She thought as much, since Sherlock mentioned that academics was not his thing.

Anyway, why are they standing around down here chatting when they could be chatting in the kitchen where the coffee comes from? He makes for the stairs, carrying the coat.

"He still sleeping, Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir." Jarvis sounds slightly amused. "Any minute now, no doubt."

She follows along. Tony is hard to keep up with. She's glad she doesn't have to chase him around town or something.

"So, um, you're going to get some sleep soon, right? Since you were up all night?"

She doesn't mean to be a mother hen or anything. It's just good sense. Sherlock's her friend, and Tony's his brother, so by extension, his health and happiness is important!

"Pff, who needs sleep?"

"You have been awake for nearly twenty-four hours by now, sir." Now he sounds reproachful. "If you do not stop drinking coffee before noon I will ask Sherlock to tie you to your bed."

Tony grins. "Yeah, yeah."

"See? Jarvis is totally right. You should get some rest."

She knew Jarvis had good sense.

(...Why is the computer the one with sense in this household?)

"I know. If you're worried about Sherlock running off and doing something stupid while you're asleep, I could seriously keep him busy with research and planning before he runs off. We need to do that anyway, and then you could get a nap at least."

She pauses a moment. "He might have told you about my twin brother, Alec. I know how it is to worry. You know?"

Actually he didn't, in so many words, but that is one set of dots Tony has no trouble connecting.

"Yeah," he says softly, hefting the coat and glancing to one side. "I just... yeah."

A long sigh.

"Trust me, he's gonna want to go buzzing off looking for more information as soon as he's had breakfast. At least with this, he can do it without getting his ass blown off, y'know?"

"Oh, right, I know. It's stalling the inevitable."

She shrugs. "Look, it's nothing to me if you don't want to get any sleep. It was just an option. I don't want Sherlock leaving here, period, not yet. So I can't help wanting to try and stall him."

He rubs his face with his free hand.

"For all I know," he says optimistically, "you might be better at it than I am."

"I'm different, anyway. So I might be able to make it work."

She'll cry, if she needs to. She will probably not be faking it, either.

"And if not, at least he'll have your coat."

"Yeah," he repeats, brightening a little.

"Sherlock is awake now," says Jarvis. After a short pause, he adds: "He says he will be downstairs in a few minutes, that he is glad Alyce is feeling better, and that Tony is a bloody idiot who should not be allowed caffeine."

Alyce covers her mouth in a vain attempt to hide the giggle.

"Jarvis is a bit of a gossip, isn't he?" she whispers.

"He totally is," Tony agrees, flashing a grin.

With Sherlock awake and on his way downstairs, some of Alyce's better mood begins to dwindle. She'd hoped against hope that Trixi might have texted her overnight with news or even forgiveness, but so far she's received nothing. If Sherlock does go out, and he finds Tom (and Alyce is pretty sure he will), and the coat doesn't work or something else happens to him... it will be partly her fault.

Of course, all of this is partly her fault.

The best she can do is make Sherlock take a little more time to listen to the information only she can give him.

"Okay, Project Stall the Detective is nearly a go." She fitfully twists a strand of her hair around her finger.

"Good luck."

He tosses the coat over the back of a kitchen chair—it's designed for Sherlock to run around getting himself in trouble in, so it can take quite a beating—and paces over to the coffee machine.

Surprisingly, he doesn't pour himself another cup.

"Thanks. I'll need it."

She doesn't pace, but that's only because she's got plenty of hair to twist.

Tony paces!

Up to the coffee machine. Over to the door. Around to the fridge. Past the table. Past the table the other way.

"I was under the impression that 'bouncing off the walls' was a largely figurative phrase," Sherlock comments from the doorway.

"Morning, Sherlock," Alyce says with a little wave. "I think Tony's drunk his weight in coffee since I've been up."