ooc.
DON'T WORRY. MAH LOVE WILL KEEP YOU WARM. SO WILL MY RAPE.
ic.
Would Sherlock consider it a 'tell' if Dahmer hauled back and punched her in the throat? He wasn't entirely certain, but the male had a hunch that it would completely give away his position. But the feeling was there, something he tried to suppress without much success. He wasn't usually violent like this – Dahmer was known for his ability to keep his cool in almost all circumstances. It was one of the reasons he and Sherlock made a perfect partnership. She'd be able to lose herself in the puzzle, figure out the next steps and focus on nothing else. He'd be able to deal with her musings, wait them through until they boiled down to the answer they always needed. Sherlock was brilliant – but it took a great deal of patience to deal with her. He was usually an expert at it. It was necessary in order for him to survive day to day while dealing with his feelings. But now...it appeared as though that was all out the window. To give the male credit, he was still reeling from the surprise of seeing her again. And his former partner was being annoying as hell.
Dahmer realized things were only going to get worse when those shrewd eyes narrowed in on his own, digging through their depths and coming up with her prize: discovering the triumph he was incapable of keeping at bay. He'd kept the smirk off his face, but she found the evidence anyway. And when Sherlock found evidence involved in one of her theories, she would not drop it. Like. Ever. What was with that, anyway? Couldn't she let just one fucking mystery remain unsolved? Of course not. It was impossible. She was impossible.
He remained rooted to the ground, watching as Sherlock bent over to put her violin away. One eyebrow raised as he considered her actions, slightly wary. What was she going to do, now? Suddenly, she was moving closer. Pale eyes widening in alarm, Dahmer rocked back on his feet, bracing himself. It took everything he had to prevent himself from retreating further. She couldn't know just how much her proximity bothered him, drove him crazy. Aside from his initial surprise, he let no clue about his feelings show. It was one thing she wouldn't be able to dig her teeth into. Not that it mattered, though – she was on a roll about something else. Dahmer turned slightly to watch the smaller wolf as she walked around him, letting her theories slip from her mouth in an astoundingly smug manner. Of course, they were all right. This didn't surprise him. He couldn't even manage to be angry about it – what else could he expect? He'd given her the evidence and that was all she needed to prove her case. But still, he took comfort in the knowledge that she didn't know everything. In spite of all her theories and determination, Sherlock was still very much in the dark.
She finished her spiel, and he said nothing. Dahmer stood where he was, looking down at his old friend. After a moment of silence he nodded, confirming her hunch. Yes. He was mad she found him. Now that she had touched on the true issue, maybe they'd be able to really talk about it. Speak the truth and get everything out in the open. Maybe, just maybe Sherlock would do nothing but listen for once, and hear him out without judging or trying to analyze his feelings. He'd like that. It would make him feel so much better. He could picture it. Maybe if he was able to explain things with her in those circumstances, they'd be able to settle everything. He'd make no confession to her, nothing along those lines. But perhaps they'd be able to come to an understanding. She could even stay, if that's what she wanted. There would have to be some rules about keeping her distance at first, just until he was able to adapt to the change. But after that, who knew? Anything could happen!
Buoyed by these hopeful thoughts, Dahmer moved ever so slightly forward and opened his mouth to start it all. And then she planted herself right in front of him and spoke again. If Dahmer felt himself incapable of being thrown off by her anymore than he already was, the behemoth was sadly mistaken. His ears shot back in surprise and his mouth went slack. An moment of complete silence followed, and then Dahmer exploded. That's what she was upset about?! Fucking Anderson?! A snarl rumbled in his throat, and he drew himself to his full height. His eyes were two pools of cold fury as they glared down at the female, although Dahmer was honestly so angry he couldn't see. He'd never been like this around her, but God – what else could one expect? For a moment he had convinced himself that she was capable of having a real conversation with him, no theories or quests for clues, just their words backed by honesty. But no, of course not. He got this instead. A complaint about an admittedly retarded colleague. Is that why she followed him all this way? Not to see him, but in order to lodge a complaint about her new partner? How fucking typical. He should have known.
Are you fucking serious?! That's what this is all about? Anderson?! He finally closed the distance between the two, drawing near enough to stab an accusing claw at her. You are unbelievable! You don't get anything do you?! He shook his head furiously, eyes boring into hers. You spend so much time focusing on your puzzles and your clues and your fucking theories, but in the end you don't know anything! You're clueless! And I've had enough of it. The massive male pulled his arms back, his hands clasped together in a helpless manner. He took a step back, watching her carefully. He was still furious, still dumbfounded – but sadness had crept into there as well, settling mostly in his eyes. And when he spoke again, his words were saturated with it. I give up. I just give up.
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