[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.]
[ 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?
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.
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.
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