Leaning casually against the wall as he waited for James to join him, Sherlock chuckled gently to himself. Mr Hakuba was clearly quite proud of his accomplishments and it made toying with him all the more fun a pastime. In many ways James Hakuba reminded Sherlock of the majority of the young officers that accompanied Lestrade on cases from time to time. They all were blessed with youth and therefore the assumption that they knew better than everyone around them. It was a trait that Sherlock found to be most irritating and did his best to free them of with a few well timed words to put them in their place. Usually they didn’t return to assist him on any cases after that. At least Hakuba seemed to have some respect for him, something that was more than most did. It was far easier for Sherlock to be civil and hospitable to someone who showed him the level of decency he desired. It wasn’t something he’d say out loud to the young detective but Sherlock was glad of how Hakuba seemed to at least be trying to understand what goes on his his mind, possibly because he shared many of his opinions.
Catching the playful smile that James had given him, Sherlock did his best to suppress the urge to grin, instead merely shooting him a twisted smile. Instantly Sherlock was filled with the urge to reply with something snappy but the haste with which the young detective flounced over to greet the receptionist eradicated any chance of that happening. Clearly it was intentional on Hakuba’s part, most likely a way to temporarily give him the last word.
While his companion canoodled with the receptionist, Sherlock took the time to take note of the building. It was decently maintained despite being moderately old. The walls and floor had recently received some maintenance in the form of a makeover though clearly not to a very good standard as they were already showing signs of wear and tear. Odd, a security building was hardly a place for there to be the opportunity for it to get worn down so quickly. Why exactly was this then? It wasn’t until he heard his name being called that Sherlock was pulled out of the analytical bubble he had entered. Giving a brief nod to the receptionist as he passed, Sherlock headed towards the flight of stairs that led to where the security footage was kept.
“You’re very eager to get into my abode, Mr Hakuba. Should I be flattered by the attention you are giving me? If the way that receptionist over there has zeroed in on your face I am inclined to think I am a very lucky to have such an apparently handsome man give me special attention and want a token of mine. I am aware John has found himself someone but I do hope you aren’t expecting to win me over so easily.” Sherlock stated teasingly as he strode along the stairwell. “I’m sure that woman would kill to be in my position. Actually that could prove rather fun as it’d give me a case to entertain myself with. I’d only hope her method would be more inventive than she is.” Sherlock glanced at James from the side of his eyes. “You can’t have my deerstalker crown but you are welcome to be the detective prince to my status as king is you so wish. Think of it as being like my understudy, James. Quite the compliment don’t you think?"
"Oh yes, Mr. Holmes, quite the compliment indeed.” Hakuba glanced at him before heading up the stairs, step spry and light as it had been before. “But far too easily won. No; I’ll turn down the title of prince until I’ve earned if, if that pleases you at all. I’ve barely done anything to prove myself, and I should hardly think that my charms have any actual sway on you, Detective King. We’re headed to the fourth floor, incidentally.”
With one hand on the railing, the teenager continued the climb.
“And need I remind you, Mr. Holmes, that you were the one to mention 221B, not I, as well as the token. Which, of course, I appreciate, but it does seem that you’re rather eager for company. Alas, I’m only seventeen; I’m certain that you can find far better, and far more legal options than I who are better suited for you. Particularly if I am as obnoxious as you’ve alluded to. The receptionist killing someone? Miss Wells? Hardly! And over my apparently handsome face, not for my skills at all. Such a thing!”
James enjoyed this game. So long as Sherlock continued to play it, he would happily reciprocate. Bonding over teasing was something that usually went over well when he found willing partners, but those were far and few between. Heiji Hattori from Japan came to mind as one who did not play well with him; so eager to shut down even his most harmless attempts. Such a shame. But Sherlock Holmes was much better game; he only hoped he’d not come off as over-eager in his playful retorts.