open post version 2.

[docwithablog]

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[docwithablog]

Don't expect a pat on the back for finally taking care of yourself.

What's left, then? Casework?

[acutereasoner]

You'll admit making myself the enemy of London's entire criminal underworld has resulted in a far more present danger to my health than lung cancer.

[docwithablog]

Okay, I'll admit that you have definitely ensured yourself an untimely death.

[acutereasoner]

An untimely death seems a fair trade for an interesting life.

[docwithablog]

Periodically interesting life, you mean. The rest of the time is divided between ennui at best and clinical depression at worst.

[acutereasoner]

[Hold on, he needs a second to come up with a suitably clever response to being called the hell out.]



Both of which can be temporarily alleviated through the use of controlled substances, but we've already established that isn't a viable option, haven't we?


[Alternately he could see a doctor - One who isn't John - about the abysmal state of his brain chemistry, but that would require acknowledging that even a mind as brilliant as his own can be affected by things outside his control, and that's simply not a reality he wants to recognize.]

[docwithablog]

Because addiction isn't the answer, it's a big, fat question mark. How can you not get this when you're so bloody clever?

[acutereasoner]

Your mistake is in assuming controlled use is in any way comparable to addiction.

You're a doctor, I would have expected you of all people to know the difference between medicating a symptom and indulging a habit.

[docwithablog]

Yes, good, fine.

The habit is the symptom, Sherlock. There is such a thing as dual-diagnosis.

[acutereasoner]

There is also such a thing as a second opinion.

[docwithablog]

You're right. Maybe it's time you seek out one of those, see where it leads you.

[acutereasoner]

Eager to have me sanctioned, are we?

1/2

[docwithablog]

Don't be an idiot.

2/2

[docwithablog]

I've seen enough good men die. I'm not going to watch you be the stupid sod who neglected himself until it killed him.

1/2

[acutereasoner]

[This is.... considerably more sentiment than he's prepared to deal with.]



I would never ask you to.


[John must know that, that he would never want him to watch him die.]

2/2

[acutereasoner]

[This conversation has gotten entirely too emotional for his liking. He'd best deflect with a bit of inappropriate humor.]


Unless of course your own life depended on it, by some impossibly cruel twist of fate, but I doubt we'll ever need to prepare for such an eventuality.

[docwithablog]

[ Yes, deflect, deflect. It's late, isn't it? He's hungry. You're not yourself when you're hungry, all the commercials say so, too. John sees only one solution. ]

No time for cruel twists of fate, I'm starving. Meet me for lunch?

[acutereasoner]

Yes, I imagine saving lives all day is hungry work.


[And he doesn't just mean by being a doctor.]


Where, and when?

Or rather, would you like for me to tell you how I already know the answer to both questions?

[docwithablog]

You're a show-off, so go ahead. Show off.

[acutereasoner]

There are six restaurants near your practice, two of which require a prior reservation. Of the four remaining, one serves a strictly vegan menu which appeals to neither of our palates, one employs a charming waiter who has made it blatantly obvious that he finds you irresistibly attractive, and one keeps irregular hours and has already closed for the evening, so the fourth and final option is the only truly viable one.



Also, I put a tracking app on your mobile ages ago so there was never any mystery to begin with.

[docwithablog]

I would tell you to stop messing with my things, Sherlock, but I'm honestly too hungry to care. So if you know where we're going -- which you obviously do, that was a very good show-off, bravo -- get down here and keep me company.

[acutereasoner]

If you'd only look to your left, you'd realize I'm already here.

[Now that's a good show-off.]

[docwithablog]

[ He's inclined to agree, honestly. Very good show-off. And to finish off on a happy note, he quickly texts Sherlock the following, before turning around: ]

Idiot.