He didn’t hesitate to take the glass, inhaling the scent deeply before taking a generous sip. He didn’t often drink, but he knew enough about wine to appreciate the taste. A satisfied smile spread across his face as the flavour soaked into his tongue. “ As you should be. I’m impressed. ” Sherlock hadn’t questioned their relocation, nor had he minded. The living room was equally comfortable, and the smell of cooking food was floating through the air. The only thing disrupting his serenity was the third glass, staring at him in challenge. How much longer did he have to bask in Giovanni’s cheerful presence?
He took another sip as he listened to the question. People were too often busy being taken aback by his deductions to actually be interested in them. He supposed that any surprise factor was long gone, if this man was living with his little brother. “ You’re right – I care a lot about my work. It’s important. The deductions are merely an art of combining observation with information and logic.” He pauses, thinking of a suitable example that shouldn’t cause offence.
“ For example, I knew that you were a priest before you told me. It’s a little obvious with all the pictures and –paraphernalia – you have around, but there are also more subtle signs. The rosary beads in your pocket, for example. I could see some of the beads, and could tell by the colour of the wood– ” He froze mid-sentence, recognising the footsteps on the stairs. His head turned to confirm what his ears had already told him, eyebrows raised. The hesitation sent his mind racing, but he had appearances to keep up. He would dissect that moment later.
Part of him wanted to apologise to Giovanni for cutting himself off, but he was to busy watching his brother. He couldn’t help the widening of his eyes as Sherrinford allowed himself to be touched in such a casual and affectionate way. Nevertheless, a broad (too broad) smile spread across his lips, with a challenge in his eyes. This opportunity was rare – he didn’t often have the element of surprise on his side.
“ Sherrinford, how nice to see you – even if I had to track you down. Does Mummy know that you’re married? You’ve been quite good at keeping your life secret, I wouldn’t be surprised.. ”
The priest could spot brotherly bickering from a league away && chuckled quietly to himself, sipping his wine && simply observing the unfolding scene. These Holmes! Always ready to attack && defend at a moments notice. So unhealthy, si. But, perhaps it is their sole way of being able to show affection to each other? Although the interaction between Sherrinford and Quentin (little Quentin! oh, how he missed him. But not his husband, no, heavens no. That man was a poor match for Quenny’s sensibilities!) was gentle, it still held a posh stiltedness. As if there was a family hierarchy beat into their brows. Knowing the British wealthy, there probably was.
Sherrinford’s baritone broke the brief tranquility after the man had a few half seconds to recollect himself. “On the contrary, Sherlock, mother knows. Blame only yourself for the needed secrecy.” He paused as if to considered whether his brother deserved more information. The doctor lightly shrugged and easily lied as he spun the truth. “Moriarty was alive when we were married and I am not inclined to invite his sort of celebrity into my life. Not even for your benefit.”
“Which was disappointing! I wanted to meet this Moriarty fellow, he seemed devilishly interesting. But safety first, I do suppose.” Giovanni followed his partner’s train of thought as if they were a single entity. “Now, finish with your deduction, Sherlock! I am quite pleased with what you’ve discovered already by such little detail! These logical leaps are more impressive than wine making. Your brother here, bless his soul, is far too gentle to dissect me in the Holmesian way -aloud, at least!” He kisses Sherrinford’s temple && the doctor, surprisingly, responded in kind.
