What a truly strange man, John thinks as he stares after Sherlock. He doesn't like how he gets looked at as if the other man knows him inside and out again. He really doesn't like that. It makes his skin itch a little. And that's what he thinks about as he sits at the small desk for the better part of two hours, just staring at a box of his things brought over from the Syndey Shatterdome, where he'd been last stationed.
There are pictures inside. Too many pictures. John's smiling in all of the ones he happens to be in and Harry is too, likely because there's a beer bottle in her hand in most of them. They have on their bomber jackets with the folded hands emblem on the back and the dove on the front. John touches them longingly.
He hasn't told her where he's going. She hadn't taken his call when he left either. She wouldn't approve. Or maybe she would have tagged along. But John can't-- Won't -- drift with her again. It's too much being in an alcoholic's mind.
He ends up sticking a few photos to his wall -- one with Chemo Alpha's and Coyote Tango's crew. He wonders, briefly, if he can catch up with Stacker and Tamsin again but the last time he heard, they were in Tokyo. No longer pilots, not after Onibaba's attack but--
It's just a shame that they lost contact. Sometimes John's glad he made a clean break. Sometimes it wounds him deeply.
He's up and ready by 05:00 and answers the door in the uniform provided for him. "Neurological testing first then?" he asks with a smirk. He doesn't have a Kwoon Combat Room work out suit. He doesn't even know if he can still fight after all this time. Even if he does enjoy a good boxing match.
no subject
There are pictures inside. Too many pictures. John's smiling in all of the ones he happens to be in and Harry is too, likely because there's a beer bottle in her hand in most of them. They have on their bomber jackets with the folded hands emblem on the back and the dove on the front. John touches them longingly.
He hasn't told her where he's going. She hadn't taken his call when he left either. She wouldn't approve. Or maybe she would have tagged along. But John can't-- Won't -- drift with her again. It's too much being in an alcoholic's mind.
He ends up sticking a few photos to his wall -- one with Chemo Alpha's and Coyote Tango's crew. He wonders, briefly, if he can catch up with Stacker and Tamsin again but the last time he heard, they were in Tokyo. No longer pilots, not after Onibaba's attack but--
It's just a shame that they lost contact. Sometimes John's glad he made a clean break. Sometimes it wounds him deeply.
He's up and ready by 05:00 and answers the door in the uniform provided for him. "Neurological testing first then?" he asks with a smirk. He doesn't have a Kwoon Combat Room work out suit. He doesn't even know if he can still fight after all this time. Even if he does enjoy a good boxing match.