americas_son | Sunnydale AU: An Illicit Visit (no, not that kind)

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Sunnydale AU: An Illicit Visit (no, not that kind)

There is some definite disapproval going on in the Chandler compound over Cal's refusing to go along with the implicit decision that the Starks (especially Sherlock) are not the best company for him. It's not the first time he's pushed such a ruling - far from it - but this is something of a special case. Whether it's the shooting or the fact that Sherlock and his identity issues are generally glossed over in proper society with "He just couldn't handle his parents' death, the poor thing, at least his brother is made of sterner stuff" that causes greater concern . . .

Well. Cal has the feeling his knows the answer to that.

His own accidental death could at least be used to the Chandlers' advantage, after all.

The obvious response to all of this is, of course, to invite Sherlock over to visit.

"We'll have to sneak if we don't want to spend twenty minutes listening to Mother, though."

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Cal, who was of course totally eavesdropping, is right on hand to open the door for him.

". . . That went better than I thought it would."

"I believe I've reached something of an accord with the man. I certainly won't be underestimating him again. May I come in?"

"Sure. Of course."

Cal steps back to give him room.

. . . he kinda wishes Sherlock had directly answered the question about him being gay. It's just - good to know these things. Sometimes.

He seems utterly unconcerned about the matter.

Cal could always ask.

Meanwhile, Sherlock steps into the room and looks around, analyzing what he sees.

Cal won't ask on his own. Then he might have to explain why it's an issue for him.

Or, considering that it's Sherlock, he might not have to. He's not sure which is worse.

Cal's room, defying any and all expectations, is clean and tidy. This is due solely to the cleaning staff. The bed, which is back against the far wall in the center, is king-sized and neatly made. There are a few posters on the wall, with a general theme of music and attractive women, and a calendar that's two months behind. There are two doors aside from the one to the hall; one is ajar and leads to a bathroom, and the other closed securely (the dimensions of the room and spacing of the doors in the hallway imply a large closet).

There is a bookshelf, but its contents are mainly CDs and DVDs - lots of movies, mostly of the summer blockbuster variety with a certain bent toward science fiction. On top of the bookshelf is a stereo and a well-used incense burner. Next to it, directly across from the bed, is a stand holding a big TV and a DVD player. Aside from the TV stand, the furniture looks like it all predates Cal and was in the room long before he was.

The first thing he wonders is how Cal could possibly stand to have people touching his things.

It's probably one of those inexplicable quirks of so-called normal people.

The calendar is probably evidence of nothing more than absent-mindedness, but he'll reserve judgment. The question of the incense burner is what exactly it is used for, but he is hardly going to cross the room and check. All in all, not terribly informative.

Oh, unless one or more of those DVDs is relevant, of course.

He's used to it. And the really important stuff - his stash of pot, for example - is hidden away.

The incense burner is used for incense, of course! When Cal is smoking. No one has told him yet that it doesn't actually fool anyone.

The DVDs are probably not of great interest to Sherlock (yet) unless he's been wanting to catch up on his cheesy scifi. It's Cal's favorite thing to watch when he's high.

. . . Quick, now guess Cal's favorite activity. Those not privy to the narrative are welcome to instead notice the faint scent of pot clinging to the room that Cal is so used to, he doesn't even know it's there.

"Is the incense a courtesy, or do you imagine there is anyone left who does not know?"

It's the first thing he thinks of to say, a few seconds at most after he enters the room.

Cal looks blank for a second, then remembers the burner out in plain sight. And as far as he's concerned, there is of course no other reason for a pot user to burn incense.

"It covers it up," he says. "Dad knows, but that's it."

Reed Chandler's response to the discovery, verbatim: Share that, or I'll tell your mother.

"You have an odd definition of that's it. You are obviously not the person who keeps this room in such an exemplary state of tidiness, and anyone who sets foot in here is going to notice the smell. I don't doubt that by now it is a permanent fixture."

Hanging out with Sherlock Holmes tends to have a destructive effect on your cherished illusions.

"What smell?"

Yes, he's serious.

". . . I don't smell anything."

He lives with it, after all. At this point, he probably couldn't pick it up if he tried.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't."

"You only noticed anything because you know I smoke," Cal theorizes.

Which, okay, is sort of admitting that there's a smell, but it can't be that bad or he would have noticed, right?

"I noticed because noticing things is what I do. Anyone with a nose who has not been living in this miasma could have done the same, I assure you. Not to mention, may I remind you, the fact that your secret excursions really aren't."

Cal's face falls a little at the reminder.

"Whatever. As long as they don't try to make me stop."

He deserves to be able to smoke when he wants.

Curiously: "Why?"

He understands independence; he just doesn't understand the attraction of pot.

"Because I like it. It helps me relax."

He needs to relax. He gets wound up too tight, otherwise, about things he has no control over. He doesn't really know how he managed before he started smoking.

"Relaxation," he deadpans. "What a peculiar concept."

It's often hard to tell if Sherlock Holmes is joking, but it's not often that he's not entirely sure himself.

Cal's expression eases into a wry half-smile.

"Yeah," he says, "you should try it sometime."

"I find the violin lends me a close approximation."

Cal shrugs a bit.

"Whatever works."

He is totally open-minded about people's substance of choice!

"But I confess it is an alien notion to me."

Actually it's alien to his whole family. Tony doesn't have it quite so bad, but he still thinks of relaxing as what you do in between the fun stuff. And Jarvis, of course, is only ever one-third sleeping at most (except for major hardware upgrades) and therefore describes himself as being at rest either all the time or none of it.

"You have to take a break sometimes," Cal says. "You'd go crazy if you didn't."

There is a brief pause in which Cal remembers who he is talking to.

He doesn't actually say That would explain a lot, but maybe he doesn't have to.

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