Sherlock...
[John doesn't look happy. Behind him you can see a bedroom that has piles of clutter everywhere - books, a few plants, random stacks of paper, and even miscellaneous lab equipment. He's also holding a jar that seems to be filled with eyeballs.]I've asked you more than once to keep your things out of my room. I told you the next time
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I don't know how you stand being with the two of them, my dear. Your patience with them is truly deep, but I'm rather pleased to see it is not bottomless.
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Sorry, I shouldn't be taking my frustration out on you, Irene.
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And I would be most pleased to tell those two off along with you. For all that they are resistant, perhaps they could use a lady's touch.
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I heard you and Sherlock went out on a date that wasn't actually a date?
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I'm afraid so. More than one, technically, and as you say, they were indeed not 'dates'. A ladies' attentions are 'not his area', and he is 'not my type'. Although that did lead into a very interesting discussion about what 'my type' is, according to him.
[She ends with a grin.]
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Are you doting? I hadn't noticed.
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[He seems rather amused by the description.]
And what did you think of his analysis?
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Oh, I told him that he was as correct as always. Which is to say I think he was half right. [*wink!*]
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