[ Surprisingly enough, the harsh snap is what really puts John back in control of himself. He stops on the platform, all muscles taut. There's a surge of anger, but it's nothing, absolutely against the constriction that's taking over his chest. ]
I'm the first to respond. It's my job.
[ That's all he'll be saying until he gets there. It's about a minute or so later that he does, and he whips into the pool room panting. He's clearly been running, but now he levels out to a rolling tread. There's something decidedly stalwart about the soldier's expression even as he strides quickly toward the scene. He can make out the length of a body from here, pale skin, dark hair...
But anyone could have dark hair. Sherlock didn't answer, but he never answers right off.
He knows, though. He knows as soon as he sees the shape of that body that it's Sherlock. He could pick him out of a crowd anywhere, whether the man had his collar up or a whole ninja ensemble. It's Sherlock.
[ Voice/ Private 30% -> Action ]
I'm the first to respond. It's my job.
[ That's all he'll be saying until he gets there. It's about a minute or so later that he does, and he whips into the pool room panting. He's clearly been running, but now he levels out to a rolling tread. There's something decidedly stalwart about the soldier's expression even as he strides quickly toward the scene. He can make out the length of a body from here, pale skin, dark hair...
But anyone could have dark hair. Sherlock didn't answer, but he never answers right off.
He knows, though. He knows as soon as he sees the shape of that body that it's Sherlock. He could pick him out of a crowd anywhere, whether the man had his collar up or a whole ninja ensemble. It's Sherlock.
Fuck. ]