Chapter 5
When Sherlock opened his eyes and checked his watch, it was 4:17 pm. He had a vague feeling that there was some information about time that he should know about, but he couldn’t think of anything apart from the fact that they had less than three hours left on their flight. They. He looked to his right where Jim was curled up in his reclined seat and fast asleep. There was a vague memory of getting comfortable while listening to the criminal explain black holes, but he couldn't really remember any details. He didn’t even know who had fallen asleep first. Unsure whether he was supposed to wake the criminal or leave him alone, Sherlock decided he might as well get up for another trip to the bathroom before dealing with that decision. By the time he got back, his problem had solved itself since Jim was awake and stretching in his seat.
“There you are.” The criminal remarked when Sherlock sat down next to him.
“Yes, you were asleep.” He assumed that his absence couldn’t have been a major mystery since there weren’t many places he could go on a plane.
“Mhm, I figured I’d take a nap since you were asleep anyway.” That answered the question of who had fallen asleep first. Sherlock tried not to dwell on the fact that Jim had seen him in an unconscious state.
“Well at least time has passed and we’re almost there.” He commented and watched as Jim pushed a button on the remote for the plane’s entertainment system. The criminal’s hair was a bit ruffled after his nap and in combination with the cardigan and the lack of exaggerated facial expressions it made for quite the interesting picture. The man seated next to Sherlock right now didn’t seem to have much in common with the criminal he’d met at the pool.
“Urgh, we’re still in the middle of nowhere over Canada.” Jim complained when he saw the map on the display in front of him. “And you? Enjoying the view?”
Sherlock blinked, caught slightly off guard when Jim turned to look at him. Although the criminal was clearly teasing him, his voice still sounded rather sleepy and there was no real edge to his words. Sherlock shrugged at him.
“No window, I have to make due.” To his amusement it looked as if Jim hadn’t expected that response. The criminal had this odd little smile on his face and seemed at a loss for words.
“Mhm…” For a moment, Jim only looked at him as if to return the favour. Sherlock couldn’t tell what was going on in Jim’s head, but somehow he didn’t believe that this was part of some malicious plan. After hours of heated discussions and fights, neither of them had enough energy left to continue that little game. Jim ordered a large bottle of water and two glasses with a comment about how they should hydrate with more than just tea and Sherlock didn’t care enough to argue. They watched the plane move across the map of Canada for a few minutes before Jim started scrolling through the list of movies instead, eventually pressing play on some wildlife documentary.
“Kinda looks like Mycroft.” Jim commented when an ostrich was shown up close and Sherlock almost spat out the water he’d been trying to drink.
“Longer neck.” He couldn’t keep the amusement off his face when he turned to look at the criminal who was lying more than sitting in his seat.
“It’s the eyes.” Jim almost giggled at the way the large bird was moving on the screen.
“Don’t they have exceptionally small brains?”
“One eyeball is larger than the brain, yes. I’m not saying your brother is not intelligent, but it does make the comparison even funnier.”
“Of course! He would hate that.” For a second, Sherlock had felt the impulse to take a picture of the bird and send it to Mycroft to make sure his brother knew all about the comparison Jim had made, but it quickly occurred to him that his brother might not be amused. The bird comparison was one thing– nothing Sherlock would usually be afraid of sending his brother– but informing Mycroft that he had become so close to Jim Moriarty that they already had their little jokes together would have been a bit much.
“What about you though?” Jim asked. “What animal would you be?”
“Dog?” Sherlock wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be an animal that looked like him or not, but considering that dogs could be used to find trails it seemed to be somewhat fitting. It didn’t hurt that he was quite fond of dogs.
“Mh, I could see that. Running around and sniffing for clues, looking at people with your puppy eyes to get what you want– very you.” Jim sneered playfully.
“What about you then? Which animals commit the most crimes?” He expectantly looked at the man next to him while the documentary moved from ostriches to elephants.
“Hmm, probably a bird. Crow or magpie– they’re quite clever and can recognise faces. Plus a group of them is called a murder and I think that’s poetic.” Jim looked rather pleased with his answer and Sherlock couldn’t blame him for it since these were some rather good arguments.
After a while of watching the documentary and making a few comments about it, Jim checked his watch and sighed.
“It’s 9 am in Seattle now. Which leaves us exactly where we started this trip.” Sherlock didn’t need to check his own watch to know that this meant it was 5 pm in London now. On a normal day this would probably mean that the criminal’s workday was almost over if he stuck to regular office hours. Somehow that wouldn’t really make sense, but Sherlock also assumed that the consulting criminal didn’t actually sit in an office all day long, waiting for clients to come to him with their problems. Perhaps Jim spent most of his days at home, taking calls and answering emails when necessary. If Sherlock was at home now, he would probably work on an experiment while listening to Mrs Hudson’s complaints about how much of a mess he was making. John would be home soon and they would have a conversation about dinner. His day on the plane had already felt like half an eternity after two hours and thinking about having to basically start from the late morning again once they landed didn’t seem all that appealing. He wanted to take a shower and lie down to stretch properly in a bed that was wider than an airplane seat. He wanted to feel some fresh air, go for a brisk walk and go to bed to get some proper sleep so he could officially end the day and move on to the next one. Going to the bank and talking to some boring employees about how someone could possibly get into their vault was not a very appealing plan right now. Perhaps it wouldn’t be necessary for him to rush there as soon as he landed. Mycroft had never specified that an appointment had been made for him anyway, only that there was reason to believe a break-in was planned and that Sherlock needed to figure out how it was going to happen before it actually did. It wasn’t the most intriguing case to work on, especially since Mycroft had refused to tell him about what could potentially be stolen in the first place, but he hadn’t exactly had any better options in London. Seeing a different city would be interesting at least and once he was back home he’d be able to hold this against Mycroft for some time. Reminding his brother of this would be a good excuse to decline the next few cases he didn’t care to investigate for Mycroft and perhaps he could even try to get something else out of it.
“I assume this means you want more caffeine?” Sherlock wondered what Jim would do once they arrived in Seattle. The criminal certainly looked like he wanted nothing more than a comfortable bed, but going to sleep in the morning would be a terrible way to deal with the time difference so it was unlikely that he would give in to that temptation.
“Buckets of it. If we arrive and it’s raining like crazy I might actually commit a crime.” Jim leaned his head back in an attempt to stretch.
“Is it bad that I hope it rains only because I’d like to see that?”
“That bored, hm?” Jim turned his head to the left, looking at him and stretching his neck with a pained expression on his face at the same time.
“Possibly, but I’m also curious to see you lose your nerve in the middle of an airport in the US. What are we looking forward to here? Complete mental breakdown? Kicking and screaming? Strangling the first person who dares to approach you?” The worst part was that he was curious to see that. While Jim had been threatening at the pool, that had been rather planned and calculated. Despite the frustration about Sherlock having solved his cases, Jim had known exactly what he was doing back then. Sherlock was convinced that the eccentric screaming was not Jim losing control– on the contrary. It did seem to fit the criminal’s humour, but it was still a carefully created act to intimidate his enemies. Out of the two of them, Sherlock had been much closer to losing his mind during their flight.
“I don’t know darling, strangulation is awfully intimate.”
“Reserved for someone special?” He realised this wasn’t something he would usually say because he didn’t care to flirt with people, but getting to see Jim speechless again would be more than worth it.
“Are you jealous?” The look on Jim’s face was nothing short of flirtatious.
“I have no reason to be jealous, you’re undeniably obsessed with me.” The worst part was that he knew he would feel something not unlike jealousy if Jim decided to ignore him and pester some other detective instead. Jim getting bored and moving on to some new enemy wasn’t as pleasant a thought as it should have been.
“Mhm, exactly. So no need to fill your pretty head with jealousy driven worries and doubts.” He really was spending his day on a plane with Jim Moriarty, who, after some flirting, was reassuring him that he would always be his favourite enemy.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Pretending to be completely unbothered by the conversation, he turned back to the screen in front of them that showed some drone footage of the savanna.
When an announcement informed all passengers that they would reach their destination in about an hour, Sherlock couldn’t help but notice the lack of relief he felt. It would be nice to get out of the plane and walk around after hours of sitting, but he wasn’t sure what to do with the memories of this trip. Had he walked into Jim in some shop in London, they might have talked for a few minutes before going their separate ways, but this had been hours. It felt ridiculous to ignore it all and pretend it never happened, but it also didn’t seem right to have all these memories of Jim explaining the universe to him in his mind if they ever ended up in another pool-situation.
“You’re awfully quiet.” Jim said after a while, the documentary was long forgotten and had been paused once they’d grown tired of comparing animals to Mycroft.
“The day’s been dragging on.” It had been. It felt as if he’d left London months ago.
“Oh dear, wait until you arrive and realise it’s far from over. You do understand how time zones work, right? Or should I have explained the Earth’s rotation to you?”
“Does it matter? All I need to know is that time zones exist.” He did in fact know that rotation was involved and it was night in some parts of the world when it was midday in others, but he wouldn’t share this with Jim because watching the pained expression on his face was more fun.
“Right. At least this means you’re aware the Earth isn’t flat.” Apparently the criminal was trying to sugarcoat Sherlock’s lack of knowledge about the solar system now.
“Oh, hmm… Do I? I don’t know, I’ve never actually been to space to look at the planet so how could I possibly tell for sure…” He was absolutely exaggerating on purpose now.
“Sherlock. We talked about this. In order to be classified as a planet, the object needs to be spherical. You even told me you didn’t think it was flat.” The actual distress on the criminal’s face was magical.
“Well yes, but I also didn’t say that I thought it wasn’t. Perhaps I just don’t have an opinion on it.” He carefully bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning.
“It’s not an opinion! It’s science, you can’t just– I refuse to talk to someone who actually believes we live on a pizza shaped surface!”
“Sounds rather delicious, doesn’t it?”
“I will strap you to a spacecraft and launch it myself if I have to!” Sherlock would not have put it past Jim to actually go through with that threat somehow.
“Fine, Earth’s a scoop of ice cream, better?” He looked at Jim who only took a deep breath to calm down.
“I have terrible taste in men.” With that, the criminal got up to walk to the bathroom. Sherlock smiled as he watched Jim walk away. It was interesting to see how willingly Jim had admitted to being interested in him. While Sherlock couldn’t remember ever having told someone that he cared for or liked them, Jim had made his interest more than clear– had even admitted to being obsessed with Sherlock. He couldn’t help but wonder whether it was all just some sort of game for the criminal. Did Jim just walk through life flirting with everyone he found attractive in the hope that someone was interested? Or to get a certain thrill if people responded positively? He couldn’t finish that thought because a crew member walked up to him and asked whether he wanted to order any more drinks since this was the last opportunity before they’d eventually stop the service before landing. He ordered a double espresso for Jim.