sixwordstories | (no subject)

Hey, do you have Prince Albert in a can?

[Yes. Jackie was working on her prank call prowess. This one was old school.]

[How fazed is Jim? Answer: not one bit.]

Mm. He took up quite a few. There's a whole shelf in the pantry.

Then you'd b--... [Argh, not the answer she was hoping for.]

Great, there goes another punch line. [Crossing that one off the list.]

[his voice returns, briefly, to its normal pitch.] I'm sorry, were you going for something a bit..less...

...literal? [The final word is pronounced, each syllable resonating with clarity.]

....sssslightly.

[a beat]

How many cans? [Somehow 'then you'd better turn yourself over to the police' doesn't quite work over the phone.]

[His expression, though invisible over the phone, is that of an unamused eyeroll as he runs the mental count.] Pfffffff. Abouth..three hundred? Give or take a few. It's amazing, but the human body doesn't can nearly as well as one might expect. I was anticipating "chunky jam", but who knew!

Ew. Also, ew. [Never eating jam again. Or at least for a week.]

Sorry, sorry. Am I being-- [brief pause; the words that follow are spoken in a tone meant to emphasize their awkwardness] off-putting?

[Invisible over the phone, but she has her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart.] Just a smidge. Maybe you should work on that. [Psychiatric help comes to mind, but considering her cousin thinks himself psychic, she's not one to point fingers.]

[He sticks his tongue out, full length. (The effect is something like a cat reaching to lick something far-off.) Revolting concept.] Where's the fun in that?

Fun is calling up people and springing prank calls on them...which was what this was supposed to be. [Yes, you fun ruin-er.]

Who is this? [Yes, Sherlock realizes he called first, he's trying to find out to whom the found number belongs to.]

[His tone is disbelieving...which he is, quite frankly.] You had intrigue, you had gore. You had mystery. Isn't that all you people ever want in "fun"? [Air quotes for emphasis, though only with the hand not holding the phone.]

[Jim's tone is cautious, almost a little too reserved. He recognizes the voice on the line at once, and adopts a slight quake in his tone; the amusement underneath is near impossible to detect.] The-- the junior undersecretary of defence. Who's...who's..this?

[She can hear the air quotes.]

Hey...that's stereotyping. [You people? Please.] Personally, I think breaking into an aquarium to swim with the dolphins is fun. Motorcycles are fun. Canning someone in jars: not so much fun. Messy is a better word. [Not to mention illegal.]

[There's a bare pause before Sherlock replies.]

I thought as much.

[He knows you're faking, that shake in your voice won't hide you.]

Your associate is indisposed. [Dead, actually.] Someone decided to put a spear through his back.

[Pity; and he thought he'd been so silent with them.]

Motorcycles can be fun. Dolphins can be increeedibly boring. But I'll grant you, canning royalty isn't my general fare. Just...what happened to be on the menu, really. [If a tone could convey a shrug, that would have been what just happened.]

[Very well. Even he can relent when the game is up.]

A spear? [Really, Sherlock.] Awfully hard to tidy up. Must we be so...barbaric?

Edited 2013-10-10 00:33 (UTC)

[faint smile on the other side of the phone]

I wasn't the one to put it there. [Seems someone else has a vendetta against Moriarty.] Perhaps you should watch your own back as well.

[An overwrought eyeroll.]

Eyes in the back of your head; that's just a ghastly thing to picture, isn't it? Talk about a freak of nature.

[Not to say he's not taking the knowledge, and the potential threat, with all the seriousness he feels they warrant. Not even to spite Sherlock.]

[While Sherlock is talking, he's listening for any clues in the background of Moriarty's side of the phone.]

I'm certain you can stomach it easily.

[Ha. Best of luck. He can probably pick up the sound of a cricket or two; Jim's in such a location that noise is rather a non-issue. Least of all on important conference calls such as these; wouldn't want to be interrupted by pesky identifiers.]

Well. I'm sure I'd get over it, truly. But you have to admit, it'd take some acclimation.