"All right, he's gone," John says outside of Sherlock's door, sounding amused and like he's talking to a five year old. "I'm not entirely sure why you stormed off unless the thought of becoming a pilot doesn't interest you or scare you. From what I've seen, though, and I will admit, I'm judging you based on the twenty minutes I've known you, but I'd say you don't scare easily. Listen."

He touches a hand to the iron door as if trying to feel out it's heartbeat. He's a doctor, after all. A doctor half in love with robots and being as close to a soldier as the PPDC will allow their rangers to be.

"I need a co-pilot. You're the best their is. We're Drift Compatible. At least try a neural handshake with me. I'll try to keep my damage to myself."