ironmonger | (no subject)

Sherlock laughs.

"Oh, Tony," he says with infinite fondness. "Yes, let's, then."

"Should it be something we can give to him or not?" he asks. "I'd mentioned it in the context of something I never intended to do in the first place, but I told him as much and I wouldn't want to be too predictable."

On the other hand, he wouldn't want to give Tony the wrong surprise at the wrong moment, either. He has a clearer sense of Tony's limits now, of course, but Sherlock is the one with more experience in pushing them.

"Yes," he says immediately. "He won't be expecting us to follow through, and if we choose something he is not wholly familiar with, he'll believe it is something we can't give to him until the very moment we do."

Tony is so wonderfully straightforward that way.

"Any suggestions?" he asks, already thinking it over. The problem, of course, is that it is much easier to call to mind things they have tried than things they haven't.

"Maybe. I don't know exactly what he is and isn't familiar with," Obadiah points out.

Sounding he dismisses out of hand. It was only ever meant as a phantom threat to keep Tony on track; he has neither experience with it nor interest in actually doing it.

"Something that looks as though it will hurt more than it actually does," he muses. "That is the basic founding principle."

"And a bait and switch is always a possibility."

That's one technique Obadiah doubts will fail or wear thin with repeated use, as long as he's careful to mix it in enough with genuine deliveries.

"In what sense? Like the trick you played on him last time?"

(The Goldilocks metaphor made Sherlock burst out laughing when he first heard it. Oh, Tony.)

"Right," Obadiah says. "Scare the hell out of him with one thing, then switch it for something that won't put him in the infirmary."

He sips his whiskey.

"Better for later in the game, but still good."

"Oh, yes, I expect that will do nicely." He smiles. "I can't tell you how astonished I was when I realized he really doesn't notice these things."

"It's amazing how far you can push that with people," Obadiah remarks. "Their minds will do all the work for you, all you have to do is give them something to work with."

"It won't work on me, I am sorry to report. I pay too much attention. Nevertheless, I have faith in your ability to intimidate me."

All he has to do is make sure he is in the right frame of mind to be intimidated. Otherwise, Obadiah would probably have to work on him for days first just to get him there.

(It is not an entirely unpleasant thought. But why would Obadiah bother devoting the time to it? He isn't Tony.)

"Oh, I'm sure I can come up with something," he agrees off-handedly.

"And returning to the previous point, if you need to find out ahead of time whether or not something will be too much for him and it is not something we've tried, I am available for experimentation. I know his limits very well; we shouldn't have trouble coming up with an estimate."

You know. Purely for practicality's sake. It would be very convenient to know these things before Tony does.

It would be very convenient indeed.

Obadiah looks thoughtful.

"That could be useful."

For practicality's sake.

"I thought so, yes."

Oh, all right, and Sherlock would probably also have fun with it. He likes trying new things, he likes pain, and the range from the point where Tony would stop loving it to the point where Tony would give his safeword contains some of Sherlock's favourite things.

"It's worth trying, at any rate."

Even if it proves useless as an experiment - which seems reasonably unlikely - it will still be entertaining.

Sherlock makes an agreeable noise.

And now he is thinking of novel ways Obadiah could hurt him, which is somehow much easier than thinking of novel ways he could hurt Tony.

"What sort of experience do you have with anything in the same vein as the riding crop but more fearsome-looking? Tony and I have next to none; we prefer to use our hands. That could be a place to start."

"People tend to have a certain visceral reaction to being threatened with a belt," Obadiah says reflectively. "It has universal connotations. Everyone associates getting smacked with a belt with punishment no matter how their parents raised 'em."

"Oh, lovely. Yes, we could certainly have fun with that."

"End with the buckle or no?"

He asks more out of curiosity about the answer than for the information itself.

"Try both and I'll tell you how much of either he can withstand."

Sherlock is all about being thorough.

"And then, of course, we make him beg for somewhat less than that." And give him more than they make him ask for. He can see it already in his mind: the fear in Tony's eyes, the belief that they're taking him too far. But he'll trust them. Under it all, he will trust them.

God, this is going to be beautiful.

"Of course," Obadiah murmurs. He's distracted by a similar image, though his perspective on it is perhaps a bit different than Sherlock's.

He laughs, nestling his head against Obadiah's shoulder.

"Delightful, isn't it?"

"That's a word for it."

He remembers, belatedly, that he had wanted to wait until the event itself to put marks on Sherlock. He decides immediately after that that the best plans are those which can be easily adapted.

Fondly: "What word would you use?"