ironmonger | (no subject)

"Of course it is," Obadiah says. "And usually the more useful one."

Or, more accurately, always the more useful one, but he is of course well aware of the fact that Sherlock believes the other to be valid as well.

"At the end of it all there must be something you want for its own sake or you may as well jump off a cliff and save yourself the trouble," he points out. "That is what emotional priorities are for. It's just most people have more of them than we do."

"I want the company I built," Obadiah says matter-of-factly. "Call that an emotional priority if it makes you happy."

"Oh, yes. And you want Tony, too." Sherlock opens his eyes briefly and grins up at Obadiah. "Possessiveness is an emotion; it's just not usually considered one of the nice ones."

"True," he concedes. "But until very recently, I couldn't have both. I prioritized the company because I don't happen to think, like most people do, that a person should be worth more."

"I'm quite glad it worked out otherwise," he says, closing his eyes again. "Everyone benefits."

"Could be worse," he agrees.

The company isn't his yet, of course, but it will be. Keeping control after Tony comes of age to take the company over won't be difficult, not anymore.

He makes an affirmative sound instead of nodding. Nodding involves too much movement.

"I have to say I am glad of the opportunity to speak with you like this. It has been very enlightening. And unexpectedly pleasant," he adds with a half-smile.

He gives a slight chuckle.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," he says.

Another smile comes and goes.

Idly: "I don't suppose you've given any more thought to our earlier conversation."

"Can't say as I have," he says easily. "I don't know if I mentioned, but I've been a little busy."

"You did, you did. I meant since then. Can't say that I expected it, but you might have."

At least he isn't getting all intense about it. Apparently having his hair petted turns Sherlock into an extremely friendly and accommodating puddle.

"In the past hour or two?"

He runs his fingers especially slowly through Sherlock's hair.

"I've had other things vying for my attention."

"Granted," he murmurs, smiling in lazy contentment. "Now that I've brought it to mind, however...?"

He shrugs a little.

"If I can come up with some useful alternative arrangements . . ." Then he might possibly consider Sherlock's advice.

Maybe.

"I might be able to make a suggestion if you told me exactly what you were looking for."

A suggestion, an offer...

"An outlet," Obadiah says. "Everyone needs one."

Somewhere he can funnel his aggression and frustrations without consequence. Without having to be careful and watch his step and worry about limits.

Somewhere he has absolute power that cannot be taken away from him, as Sherlock is trying to do.

He smiles.

"Me," he says succinctly.

Obadiah snorts.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Did you want a list or should I just summarize?"

Seriously.

"Oh, give me the list, I like detail."

"I think the most important item on that list is Tony."

At least, the most important item to Sherlock.

"He might have trouble swallowing this one."

"Suppose for the sake of argument that Tony were not going to find out. Alternately, suppose he were not going to have trouble with it if he did. He won't have as much trouble with it as he would with your current choice of outlet, I can tell you that—the crucial distinction being that I know precisely what I am getting into."

Oddly enough, the disaster that was their last encounter is exactly what allows him to be so sure of this. He does know what he's getting into, and can therefore convince Tony to accept his decision.

"No, of course, you're right. There's no possible way that could go wrong."

His hand is still in Sherlock's hair, but it has ceased stroking for the moment.