Fic Rec: Nothing We Could Judge

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Title: Nothing We Could Judge

Author: green_postit

Pairing: Sherlock/John, Eames/OFC, Eames/Arthur

Length: 11,600 words

Rating: NC-17

Verse: Sherlock BBC crossover with Inception (2010)

Author's summary: none given, but basically Eames is Sherlock's college roommate.
Excerpt:

"With deductive reasoning such as yours, one can only hope you've enrolled in a soft science," Sherlock's voice drips condescension. There's a pause as his eyes zip around Eames's frame again. "Ahh, yes, psychology."

Eames straightens his back, turns his gaze heavily upon Sherlock. By the look on Sherlock's long face, he thinks he's got Eames figured out like a bug pinned under a microscope. 

Two can play this game, and Eames has been trained by the best.

Sherlock's already wearing the uniform even though classes begin in three days, yet his collar is popped high, his eyes alarmingly cold. Eames runs Sherlock's biting words and contemptuous tone through the filters in his brain, the thousands of diagnoses he's intimately familiar with, hundreds of hundreds of psychologists shouting their theorems and conclusions.
 

It's not the first time Eames has run into a narcissist—not even the first time this week—but the very brief, very lasting impression Sherlock has left on him takes narcissistic personality disorder to a whole other realm. Eames has never met a genuine misanthrope before, though. He remembers reading how Aristotle described a misanthropist as a man who considers himself a god amongst the beasts. Eames knows better, knows Sherlock is just a feral pup with words shaped like poisonous claws.

The student care package has been messily ripped open—all fliers for clubs and activities crumpled up and shoved in the waste bin—his schedule and campus map at the top of the rubbish bin. There's cold Chinese takeaway that's barely been picked at, and thirteen cigarette filters in the crystal ashtray on Sherlock's bedside table. He's clearly been here at least overnight, yet the room is as empty as if they'd both just arrived. 

Sherlock has no personal items in the room—no photographs or trinkets, total detachment to his family. Eames can smell his own, knows it's not a father issue—and notes his apparent dislike for socialization, the arrogant messiness, the lack of appetite and obvious addiction.

Eames laughs to himself—is certain he could write an entire dissertation on Sherlock Holmes and never have to leave his room.

"Exactly how long have you resented your brother?" Eames finally replies crisply. He watches the ripple in Sherlock's spine with a satisfied, smug smirk.

Reccer's Comments: I think this excerpt really speaks for itself: this fic is gloriously well-written, and both Sherlock and Eames are presented as dark, complex and three-dimensional characters. It's more of a character study than anything else--the plot is  meandering, but never slow. Sherlock is even more confused, immature, and insensitive, and every bit as brilliant as his is in the television canon, and his interactions with the horrifically careless and manipulative Eames are both moving and oddly entrancing. I kept thinking I was watching a train wreck in slow-motion, only to have the crash never hit. Or did it? That's exactly the kind of contemplative, yet satisfying feeling this fic leaves you with. Personally, I don't think that you need to have seen the movie Inception to enjoy this story, green_postit does such a great job developing Eames' character, so don't let that turn you away. You'd be missing out on an excellent story and a true fandom classic.