No. [Sherlock glares at the consulting criminal from where he's huddled into his coat in the corner, looking at the blanket as though it were something terribly offensive.]
I'd rather freeze, thank you. [He bites out, clamping his mouth shut in an attempt to stop his teeth from chattering.]
[Sherlock's frown just deepens at that, huffing an irritable sigh and watching as his breath clouded in front of him.
It's a long moment before he pushes himself standing, cautiously moving over to Jim. As unsettling as the idea was of cuddling up to his arch nemesis, it really was freezing, and surely even Jim Moriarty had body heat he could leech. He reminds himself that this is about survival, which serves to help him feel almost alright about the idea.]
*And doesn't Jim just look like the cat that ate the canary when Sherlock shuffles over.*
Really, I won't bite. *Perhaps the word bite was emphasized bu the chattering of his own teeth. * He offers one end of the blanket and waits patiently for Sherlock to sit his arse down.*
[Sherlock tries not to let Jim's expression unnerve him too much, focusing instead on the promised warmth of another body as well as the blanket. His expression is dubious as he takes the offered seat, arms clamped tight around himself as he sits next to Jim.]
You'll forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced. [He retorts, tugging the blanket further around himself.]
Please, nothing to forgive. I'm a lot of things. Cannibal or psychotic with teething issues I am not.*Yes, he is burrowing close breathing into his side of the blanket to heat up the top edges of the material.*
[As much as he wanted to keep his distance, he couldn't help leaning into the source of warmth that just so happened to be Jim. He hugs his knees to his chest, burying himself further into their one blanket. He sighs again, resigning himself to the fact that he has no choice but to trust him.]
Happy Christmas. [He says sardonically, this being the last place he wanted to end up along with the last person he wanted to end up there with.] At least one of us seems to have gotten what we wanted. [All Sherlock wanted at this point was to go home and suffer through the dull Christmas party John had put together.]
And happy holidays to you too. What can I say, I'm easy to please.
*He burrows in as much as possible, glad to be the short one in this. All he had to do was keep his head at Sherlock's shoulder area, where the blanket was at its highest and he'd be warm in no time.*
You know, some people would use this as an excuse to fool around.
[Sherlock scoffs a little at that, thinking that this was the least happy holiday he'd ever experienced.
He gives Jim a dubious look, but says nothing. He could mention that it normally takes murder and mayhem to keep Jim entertained, but then he was just the same in that regard, wasn't he?
He narrows his eyes curiously at Jim's words, glancing down at him and missing the implication entirely.]
How do you mean? [He asks, certainly all for something that would pass the time if Jim had some kind of game in mind. Insane though he was, Jim always did have a knack for keeping Sherlock's mind thoroughly engaged, which was no mean feat.]
*In his defense, Moriarty is more amicable to a variety of stimuli, and will make do with what is within his reach at times.*
Well, you probably wouldn't be very interested as it involves using body parts you don't seem to be interested in...*Shrugs and looks up like a little sarcastic cherub taunting the other man for being so unimaginative.*
[Sherlock gives a distasteful look just as soon as he realizes what Jim is on about.]
Surely you're not suggesting-...no, yes, of course that's what you're suggesting. [He huddles further into his coat for protection, hoping against hope that Jim keeps his hands to himself at least.]
Sherlock, you would cut off your own nose to spite your face. Yes, we'll be fine for the most part if we both continue 'as is'. I'm not going to suddenly morph into a violent rapist just to get a few degrees warmer. *Perhaps a gentle one if he had brought the right drugs, but that was splitting hairs*
Suit yourself. *Doesn't give Sherlock any space to squirm away and keeps close.*
[Sherlock just continues to glare as Jim speaks, hardly comforted at all. It sounded just like something Jim would do, actually, but if Jim fancied himself at least somewhat moral, he wasn't going to argue.
He knew in the back of his mind that it would make them warmer, but he quashes that little fact just as soon as it makes itself known.
He unbuttons his coat only to pull it around his legs, still shivering and making no move to pull away despite their proximity. He was cold enough that he wouldn't dream of moving away from a perfectly viable heat source, even if it happened to be a violent criminal. He huddles up against Jim, only the better to leech his body heat.]
You planned all of this, didn't you? [He asks, thinking this was actually one of Jim's least insane plans if that were the case.]
*He really is just loving playing the moral high ground even if it doesn't really suit him all that well. Kinda left a bad taste in his mouth actually. What was up with all this faux chivalry for a goody two shoes with an over-sized I.Q anyways?*
Oh yes, of course. You figured it all out genius. And look at what I won. Possible frost bite and that's just from your cold witty remarks. *Slips his hand inside Sherlock's open coat, playing with shirt buttons out of boredom now.*
[Sherlock frowns and hunches his shoulders, shaking his head a little.]
I don't claim to understand the way your mind works. Trying to make sense of something insane is, in itself, insane. [He replies, tensing up when Jim's hand moves into his coat, but not moving away for fear of losing the warmth he offered. At least he didn't seem to be unbuttoning anything yet.]
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I'd rather freeze, thank you. [He bites out, clamping his mouth shut in an attempt to stop his teeth from chattering.]
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Oh please, even the Germans and Americans had a truce on Christmas. *rolls eyes.*
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It's a long moment before he pushes himself standing, cautiously moving over to Jim. As unsettling as the idea was of cuddling up to his arch nemesis, it really was freezing, and surely even Jim Moriarty had body heat he could leech. He reminds himself that this is about survival, which serves to help him feel almost alright about the idea.]
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Really, I won't bite. *Perhaps the word bite was emphasized bu the chattering of his own teeth. * He offers one end of the blanket and waits patiently for Sherlock to sit his arse down.*
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You'll forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced. [He retorts, tugging the blanket further around himself.]
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Happy Christmas. [He says sardonically, this being the last place he wanted to end up along with the last person he wanted to end up there with.] At least one of us seems to have gotten what we wanted. [All Sherlock wanted at this point was to go home and suffer through the dull Christmas party John had put together.]
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*He burrows in as much as possible, glad to be the short one in this. All he had to do was keep his head at Sherlock's shoulder area, where the blanket was at its highest and he'd be warm in no time.*
You know, some people would use this as an excuse to fool around.
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He gives Jim a dubious look, but says nothing. He could mention that it normally takes murder and mayhem to keep Jim entertained, but then he was just the same in that regard, wasn't he?
He narrows his eyes curiously at Jim's words, glancing down at him and missing the implication entirely.]
How do you mean? [He asks, certainly all for something that would pass the time if Jim had some kind of game in mind. Insane though he was, Jim always did have a knack for keeping Sherlock's mind thoroughly engaged, which was no mean feat.]
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Well, you probably wouldn't be very interested as it involves using body parts you don't seem to be interested in...*Shrugs and looks up like a little sarcastic cherub taunting the other man for being so unimaginative.*
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Surely you're not suggesting-...no, yes, of course that's what you're suggesting. [He huddles further into his coat for protection, hoping against hope that Jim keeps his hands to himself at least.]
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Sherlock, you would cut off your own nose to spite your face. Yes, we'll be fine for the most part if we both continue 'as is'. I'm not going to suddenly morph into a violent rapist just to get a few degrees warmer. *Perhaps a gentle one if he had brought the right drugs, but that was splitting hairs*
Suit yourself. *Doesn't give Sherlock any space to squirm away and keeps close.*
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He knew in the back of his mind that it would make them warmer, but he quashes that little fact just as soon as it makes itself known.
He unbuttons his coat only to pull it around his legs, still shivering and making no move to pull away despite their proximity. He was cold enough that he wouldn't dream of moving away from a perfectly viable heat source, even if it happened to be a violent criminal. He huddles up against Jim, only the better to leech his body heat.]
You planned all of this, didn't you? [He asks, thinking this was actually one of Jim's least insane plans if that were the case.]
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Oh yes, of course. You figured it all out genius. And look at what I won. Possible frost bite and that's just from your cold witty remarks. *Slips his hand inside Sherlock's open coat, playing with shirt buttons out of boredom now.*
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I don't claim to understand the way your mind works. Trying to make sense of something insane is, in itself, insane. [He replies, tensing up when Jim's hand moves into his coat, but not moving away for fear of losing the warmth he offered. At least he didn't seem to be unbuttoning anything yet.]
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