[John may be a soldier, but he's no doctor, and his projections end as soon as Sherlock speaks of 'saving a life' -- bandage a man and follow correct procedure for a concussion though he may be able to do, but having something so fragile in his hands simply means he'll ruin it]
I see.
And you? Does chasing around murderers assuage your own need for an adrenaline high?
Oh, the thrill of the chase is certainly part of it, there's no denying that. But there's nothing quite like an elaborate crime scene with mismatching evidence, meticulously arranged and primed like a masterpiece begging to be pulled apart and reconfigured into workable pieces of data.
[ Being lead on a wild goose chase as the killer selects random pieces to leave behind, whether relevant or not, all in the name of being caught.
Just waiting for someone brilliant enough to come along and follow the trail they leave out, bloodied and morbid and perfectly positioned to lead off into a thousand tiny little leads, all more puzzling than the last. It's a whispered promise between killer and detective, the game of cat and mouse overarching and dragging him forwards on tender hooks as he works against the clock to find his murderous Monet. Oh, it's Christmas, and it's something he misses more than he'll ever admit. ]
[it's a language he doesn't understand at first -- Takasugi is an intelligent man, but his chosen field of study isn't data, evidence, extrapolation, and he's no genius by birth]
[the words need some ruminating on before he targets what Sherlock is actually saying, summed down into a simple word:]
A challenge.
[because isn't that what men of this nature are always after?]
John is interested in survival. You're interested in being pushed.
no subject
[John may be a soldier, but he's no doctor, and his projections end as soon as Sherlock speaks of 'saving a life' -- bandage a man and follow correct procedure for a concussion though he may be able to do, but having something so fragile in his hands simply means he'll ruin it]
I see.
And you? Does chasing around murderers assuage your own need for an adrenaline high?
no subject
[ Being lead on a wild goose chase as the killer selects random pieces to leave behind, whether relevant or not, all in the name of being caught.
Just waiting for someone brilliant enough to come along and follow the trail they leave out, bloodied and morbid and perfectly positioned to lead off into a thousand tiny little leads, all more puzzling than the last. It's a whispered promise between killer and detective, the game of cat and mouse overarching and dragging him forwards on tender hooks as he works against the clock to find his murderous Monet. Oh, it's Christmas, and it's something he misses more than he'll ever admit. ]
no subject
[the words need some ruminating on before he targets what Sherlock is actually saying, summed down into a simple word:]
A challenge.
[because isn't that what men of this nature are always after?]
John is interested in survival. You're interested in being pushed.