docwithablog | storyline one.

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[ Yes - yes, that's the best way to do it by far! Sherlock nods to himself, turns - and realises that John's only just finishing catching the Ingrams up. Lord, can't these people adapt? New situation, new reality, come on! Pushing one hand into his pocket, he pulls out the petri dish and looks at Mr. Ingram speculatively, eyes slightly narrowed. No, it won't do to simply hand it over; the idiot wouldn't know what to properly do with it and it might just end up in the wrong hands. Instead, he opens his palm and balances it, holding it out for the others to see. ]

Does your oh-so-secret military lab have the equipment necessary to analyse this sample? [ He keeps his fingers lightly curled, ready to snatch it away at any second. ] I only ask because I really won't put too much stock in anything you've told us so far regarding that place. For all we know, it might be an underground barn.

[ Ingram takes a moment to reply, his face very red at this point and his hands clenched into fists. His wife slips her hand to his elbow, clearly thinking the same as Sherlock (and John, going by his soothing tone of voice) - that the man's getting more and more inclined to strike out, physically. Ingram manages a deep, very shaky inhalation before breathing out slowly, shoulders sinking a fraction. Then, he tells him Quite, yes, though not in my department. I'll pass it on to the relevant people, make sure it's - Sherlock shakes his head, interrupting him smoothly: ]

No no, please - let's not involve any potential perpetrators this early on in the game. [ He turns away, pocketing the sample swiftly. ] We'll find a way, Mr. Ingram. For now - [ A nod in the general direction of the boy who's started drooling on the sofa. ] - take care of your own business.

[ With that, he turns away. And walks off, expecting John to follow suit. On the way, he fishes out his phone and shoots off a text (Required: Coordinates for underground base around Helston. There's something in it for you and it's better than cake. - SH). ]

[ The expression on Ingram's face when Sherlock just turns around and strides away again is so recognisably beaten that John can't help but smile slightly, very apologetically, mind you, but his lips do curve and he inclines his head at the couple, looking the boy over once more on the way - there's nothing he can do for him, Ingram should already have called the necessary medical agencies by now, he'll be fine. And that is by Sherlock Holmes' best estimate, so it will undoubtedly prove true as well. Eventually. Somehow, after much adventure has been had. The well-known rush of adrenaline finally kicks in now and Jesus, that's horrible timing... But okay, good, they're on a case again. Not ideal, not what he'd imagined for them, still -- if nothing else, it keeps Sherlock off the sweets. That, at least, is a good thing.

The other man's foreboding we'll find a way is less promising, because John knows the extremes Sherlock's willing to go to in order to, what, have his fix, solve his case, same old, and they're talking a top-secret military base here, they're not just going to let anyone saunter in, if he really doesn't want Ingram to take the sample himself. Which makes sense, supposedly, but it does place them in a bit of a pickle, doesn't it? Nodding at Dr Williams outside, gesturing towards the sitting room in a sorry about the mess manner, John breaks into a march to catch up to Sherlock, already ten steps ahead.

It takes him twenty seconds, of course, it always does, then he's up to speed. As much as one is ever up to speed with Sherlock on fire. ]

storyline one.

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