Despite the Odds

Chapter 20: Appledore

Some months earlier

Sherlock sat eating lunch at a nearby restaurant. He was still dressed in his hospital garb and his IV drip was dangling from its portable stand as he sat, waiting patiently as he chewed his food. Marie was at Mary's, helping the pregnant woman seeing as John was still very much at odds with his wife, and Sherlock fully planned to use the opportunity that had presented itself.

The canteen door squeaked, and a well-dressed man entered, commenting: "Shouldn't you be in hospital?"

"I am in hospital." Sherlock replied, not even looking up from his food. "This is the canteen."

"Is it?" Magnussen asked dryly as he looked around the empty family restaurant, and Sherlock retorted calmly: "In my opinion, yes. Have a seat."

He gestured at the open chair across from him as he set down his fork. Marie would probably have yelled at him for not finishing his food, but he was proud that he'd at least eaten most of it as he'd waited.

"Thank you." Magnussen commented as he sat down in the offered seat.

Sherlock finally looked at the man as Magnussen sat, and as the blonde man made himself comfortable, Sherlock began lightly: "I've been thinking about you."

"I've been thinking about you." Magnussen returned just as calmly.

Sherlock's face betrayed no emotions as he questioned: "Really?"

He leaned back and pressed the buttons on his morphine drip, lowering the dosage. Again, Marie would probably kill him, but Marie would never know. At least, not until everything was over.

"I want to see Appledore," Sherlock told Magnussen bluntly as he switched off his drip, "where you keep all the secrets, all the files, everything you've got on everyone. I want you to invite me."

He levelled a calm, but dark look at Magnussen as he finished, letting the other man think through his offer. Magnussen was examining Sherlock with a similar expression, and he asked softly: "What makes you think I'd be so careless?"

"Oh, I think you're a lot more 'careless' than you let on." Sherlock replied, placing particular attention on Magnussen's word.

Magnussen almost raised a brow and he leant forward on his elbows as he challenged: "Am I?"

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he also leant his elbows on the table, and he growled softly: "It's the dead-eye stare that gives it away."

Magnussen watched him with the same stare he was accused of, although his pale eyes narrowed slightly.

"Except," Sherlock went on, "it's not dead-eyed, is it?"

He lifted his hands, reaching slowly towards Magnussen's glasses. Magnussen didn't move, sitting calmly as Sherlock removed his glasses and breathed accusingly: "You're reading."

Magnussen just sat and watched as Sherlock examined the glasses, murmuring: "Portable Appledore. How does it work?" He questioned, looking at the man opposite him as Magnussen lowered his gaze. "Built-in flash drive?"

Magnussen didn't answer, and Sherlock asked as he placed the glasses on his own face: "4G wireless?"

Magnussen's eyes flickered up, giving Sherlock his trademark dead-eyed stare. Sherlock had paused, and then he removed the glasses again. Magnussen was watching with a hint of amusement as Sherlock looked down at the glasses and muttered in some surprise: "They're just ordinary spectacles."

"Yes, they are." Magnussen replied dryly.

Sherlock's jaw tightened minutely as he continued to examine the glasses, while Magnussen smirked slightly. The man then reached out, picking aside the leftover pasta on Sherlock's plate as he commented: "You underestimate me, Mr Holmes."