[In response, Sherlock just smiles. It's not one of those rare, genuine ones he kept stocked away in the past, and it's not even one of his plastic, perfunctory ones. Instead it's a grin of absolute malice.
He seems to almost slide through the floor to suddenly be looming over Bradbury, and the knife tip presses against his prey's throat. Not pushing too hard, not breaking skin just yet.]
Don't sell yourself short.
[City Hall is an insurmountable joke of incompetency outside of Mitch's office without him. The Sherlock before him now won't stand for that. The knife pricks Bradbury's skin, and Sherlock can only hope he hasn't done enough drugs in so short a time to be resistant to the sedative.]
no subject
He seems to almost slide through the floor to suddenly be looming over Bradbury, and the knife tip presses against his prey's throat. Not pushing too hard, not breaking skin just yet.]
Don't sell yourself short.
[City Hall is an insurmountable joke of incompetency outside of Mitch's office without him. The Sherlock before him now won't stand for that. The knife pricks Bradbury's skin, and Sherlock can only hope he hasn't done enough drugs in so short a time to be resistant to the sedative.]