[ the sound of the suitcases hitting the floor is like a little lightning bolt up her spine. she brushes her wrist across her eyes once more, as subtly as she can when her very husband (husband! husband!) is Herlock Sholmes.
and turns, eyes drifting from him in his ridiculous old lady outfit, to her suitcase, and back. ]
no subject
and turns, eyes drifting from him in his ridiculous old lady outfit, to her suitcase, and back. ]
Iris isn't here?
[ she'll tell him where she'd like to sit—— ]