[ Spider-Man tosses the vial at John and by way of rather good reflexes, he catches the thing one-handedly, only catching himself mid-way through the motion, the expression on his face changing from neutral attention to surprise, then to irritation, both eyebrows shooting up and making him look almost disbelieving that he just did that, that either of them just did that -- Spider-Boy throwing the vial in his direction and John H. Watson catching it, like a fucking dog. For God's sake! He's not your errand boy or your bloody carrier pigeon. Christ! ]
Ta. Really.
[ As soon as Sherlock moves closer again, he tosses the vial at him rather angrily, expecting the other man to catch it, because Sherlock might look like (and act like and be) a starving junkie, but his reflexes are almost superhuman. Spider-Kid here would probably be the only person to be able to outmatch them.
John only ever manages, when Sherlock isn't truly trying. He's well aware. ]
Your turn to be fast, Sherlock. You heard the kid.
[ Peter offers a small apologetic shrug at the look on John face before the sharp little prickle at the back of his neck alerts him that something is wrong. It's not as major as say the car that nearly ran him and Ned over earlier but enough that his attention snaps back to the consulting detective. ]
[ External? The word rings in his head, the hairs on his arm starting to stand on end and he frowns beneath his mask, not liking the look on the man's face at all. It doesn't matter than Sherlock's stopped a respectable distance away because Peter's senses are still buzzing slightly-it's enough for him to make a quick, split second decision. ]
Okay. Interview over.
[ He aims his webshooter briefly at the detective before firing point blank and then aiming his webs up higher on the building to pull himself out of harms way, grabbing onto the brick and sticking to the wall like a little spider where he can look down. ]
Sorry to cut this short but I gotta get back to the ho-uh-thing.
[ That's the trouble with a disguise and a face-mask in particular - quite hard to gauge a reaction with any sort of precision. He's therefore wholly unprepared when Spider-Boy shoots that crazy brilliant webbing at him. His brain manages a few, rapid-fire inputs by mere observation (pressurized by many hundreds of psi, not nylon but close, polymerization obviously, but how is he shearing it, how--) before he's lifted off his feet and sailing through the air, arms flailing uselessly. He clutches the vial between his fingers, trying to protect it from impact.
Slam. He hits the wall hard and realises instantly that he's glued to it - he can't move at all, apart from glancing at Melvin who's... looking slightly triumphant, that bloody bastard. Blinking, he stares at the boy as he proceeds to stick to the wall and throw a one-liner at him (naturally), which is just. Ugh. Ugh.
A couple of hours, he said. John had better stick around for the whole ride or at least for long enough to catch Melvin when the matter dissolves. Taking a deep breath, Sherlock fixes his gaze on Spider-Boy, deciding that maybe trading in a favour from Mycroft might just be necessary after all.
[ Much as with life's defeats, very little every really prepares you for the successes, but at least good surprises make the bad worth it all, right? That's kind of how John feels as he watches Sherlock getting webbed to the wall, a long, dramatic (of course) flight backwards and slam. Staring open-mouthed at the spectacle for a moment, not quite knowing what to say (whether to thank Spider-Man who just earned his name threefold or whether to curse somewhat aggressively), he eventually ends up sputtering out a laugh, doubling over with his hands on his knees to really get air down to his lungs while he -- cracks up, yes, that's the word. Completely. Oh, God. Spectacular. Absolutely amazing. Sherlock Holmes, stuck in the spider's web, literally. He needs to blog about this, obviously.
Finally straightening up, he dries off a few stray tears of utter mirth from the corners of his eyes, turning to follow Spider-Man with his gaze as he -- proceeds to stick to the wall himself, very much like an actual spider can and that's just fascinating, but honestly not as fascinating as -- John turns on his heel, staring back at Sherlock and managing not to laugh again only by sheer force of will. Okay. O-kay. Breathe, Watson, breathe. ]
I'm ordering takeaway for this. Hold on a moment. I mean --
[ He licks his lips in an effort not to laugh, again before fishing out his own phone this time and looking up a local restaurant, anyone will do. Ooooh, this calls for Chinese, he can tell. If he's going to have to wait for hours for Sherlock to come down -- which really is -- yes...
[ That wasn't exactly the reaction Peter had expected from John. He's not sure he had expected but certainly not to see the man laughing so hard he can barely stand. Maybe, just maybe, Peter had jumped the gun a little but his spideysense was saying danger and it wasn't like he could just ignore it! ]
[ Still, Mr Holmes wasn't a criminal like Melvin so there's really no reason so force him to be stuck there for the full two hours. Still sticking to the wall, he fishes something else from his utility belt and waits long enough that Dr Watson seems to have stopped laughing quite as hard. ]
Here, this is the solvent.
[ He tosses it down. ]
But I really gotta go guys, or I really might be in trouble-see ya!
[ With a little half wave-half salute, Spider-Man shoots another web to neighboring building and swings away. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Ta. Really.
[ As soon as Sherlock moves closer again, he tosses the vial at him rather angrily, expecting the other man to catch it, because Sherlock might look like (and act like and be) a starving junkie, but his reflexes are almost superhuman. Spider-Kid here would probably be the only person to be able to outmatch them.
John only ever manages, when Sherlock isn't truly trying. He's well aware. ]
Your turn to be fast, Sherlock. You heard the kid.
no subject
[ Peter offers a small apologetic shrug at the look on John face before the sharp little prickle at the back of his neck alerts him that something is wrong. It's not as major as say the car that nearly ran him and Ned over earlier but enough that his attention snaps back to the consulting detective. ]
[ External? The word rings in his head, the hairs on his arm starting to stand on end and he frowns beneath his mask, not liking the look on the man's face at all. It doesn't matter than Sherlock's stopped a respectable distance away because Peter's senses are still buzzing slightly-it's enough for him to make a quick, split second decision. ]
Okay. Interview over.
[ He aims his webshooter briefly at the detective before firing point blank and then aiming his webs up higher on the building to pull himself out of harms way, grabbing onto the brick and sticking to the wall like a little spider where he can look down. ]
Sorry to cut this short but I gotta get back to the ho-uh-thing.
no subject
Slam. He hits the wall hard and realises instantly that he's glued to it - he can't move at all, apart from glancing at Melvin who's... looking slightly triumphant, that bloody bastard. Blinking, he stares at the boy as he proceeds to stick to the wall and throw a one-liner at him (naturally), which is just. Ugh. Ugh.
A couple of hours, he said. John had better stick around for the whole ride or at least for long enough to catch Melvin when the matter dissolves. Taking a deep breath, Sherlock fixes his gaze on Spider-Boy, deciding that maybe trading in a favour from Mycroft might just be necessary after all.
Interview over? Not by far. ]
no subject
Finally straightening up, he dries off a few stray tears of utter mirth from the corners of his eyes, turning to follow Spider-Man with his gaze as he -- proceeds to stick to the wall himself, very much like an actual spider can and that's just fascinating, but honestly not as fascinating as -- John turns on his heel, staring back at Sherlock and managing not to laugh again only by sheer force of will. Okay. O-kay. Breathe, Watson, breathe. ]
I'm ordering takeaway for this. Hold on a moment. I mean --
[ He licks his lips in an effort not to laugh, again before fishing out his own phone this time and looking up a local restaurant, anyone will do. Ooooh, this calls for Chinese, he can tell. If he's going to have to wait for hours for Sherlock to come down -- which really is -- yes...
Thank you, Spider-Man. ]
no subject
[ Still, Mr Holmes wasn't a criminal like Melvin so there's really no reason so force him to be stuck there for the full two hours. Still sticking to the wall, he fishes something else from his utility belt and waits long enough that Dr Watson seems to have stopped laughing quite as hard. ]
Here, this is the solvent.
[ He tosses it down. ]
But I really gotta go guys, or I really might be in trouble-see ya!
[ With a little half wave-half salute, Spider-Man shoots another web to neighboring building and swings away. ]
Okay, Karen. Uh... find my backpack?