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[devoutish]

Yeah?

[That's it, that's all you get.]

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[jumpthegun]

[Okay, they'll get back to the important part of this soon, but first...]

What d'you mean least of all me? I'm married, not romantically dead.

[He's assuming this is something to do with him being married.]

[devoutish]

What does you being married have to do with anything?

[jumpthegun]

We're talking about relationships. I think I have an idea how those are meant to go because I'm married is what I'm saying.

[In theory. Maybe he and Mary aren't always the best at it all...]

Why am I the least qualified in your mind to help Harley? That's what I'm asking.

[devoutish]

It's not a matter of being unqualified. You're not in a place to. You try to solve all the problems in the city, and you spread yourself too thin.

[jumpthegun]

[John scoffs, but that's less insulting than he thought.]

I know how far I can spread myself, thanks. And Clint said Harley was with him first.

[devoutish]

How far you can spread yourself and how far you think you ought to be able to spread yourself are different things.

[jumpthegun]

Do you want me to ask Clint anything else?

[He's done with this topic, Alfie.]

[devoutish]

John. This is out of concern for you, you understand?

[jumpthegun]

[Or apparently not. It's harder to be dismissive when Alfie says things like that.]

I know. I just... Mary and Sherlock are already coddling me. [As much as Sherlock can be said to coddle.] I don't need more people acting like I'm a bloody chipped piece of china that's liable to crack.

[devoutish]

I'm treating you like a fucking mortal man. This isn't coddling; fuck off.

[jumpthegun]

[Any amount of care beyond the bare minimum is coddling when directed at him.

John bristles, but doesn't immediately respond, letting that immediate snappishness pass. He knows His voice is tight when he responds.]

Sorry.

[Years on, years in, even with Mary there, and it still feels strange and uncomfortable to have people wanting to look after him in any capacity. Mrs. Hudson had been different, motherly to everyone, not just him. That had made it all right, and even she'd gotten to be too much for him at times.]

Thanks.

[His tone is fairly grudging, but he says it.]

[devoutish]

Mm.

[Alfie goes quiet for a few moments - maybe even long enough to make Watson think he's done talking, even though he hasn't ended the feed.]

No. There's nothing else I want you to ask Clint; no.

[jumpthegun]

Right. Fine. Good. [He should probably try for words with more than one or two syllables. John clears his throat.] I'll talk to you later, Alfie. Clint said he'd give you a call later, as well. Text. He's texting because of the Joker, you know?

[devoutish]

Yeah, I know.

Do you need to hang up, or can you stay on for a bit?

[jumpthegun]

I can stay for a bit... something else on your mind?

[devoutish]

No, no. Well--

[He grunts.]

I should talk to people more, I think. Better that way.

[jumpthegun]

[John lets his head fall into his free hand for a moment.]

What should we talk about, then? Home? Here?

[devoutish]

[Alfie pauses, casting around for some topic - anything at all. Finally, he sighs.]

No. No, never mind.

[jumpthegun]

No. If you want to talk, I want to talk. Could tell you about some of my old cases from back home.

[devoutish]

That'll be me just listening, eh?

[jumpthegun]

We could do it as a game. I give you the clues we had, and you try to deduce what happened?

[This is his idea of games. Sherlock has corrupted him.]

[devoutish]

[It actually is something that Alfie might have had some fun with, under ordinary circumstances. A few months ago, maybe.]

Nah. My head's not up to it, today.

Tell me what you're doing now?

[jumpthegun]

Just resting after the transfusion, cleaning my equipment. Listening to Mycroft complain in the other... he does a good bit of that. He's an office worker. Soft.

[devoutish]

Government, isn't he?

[jumpthegun]

He is the government. Basically runs the country from behind the scenes.