It truly didn't matter about the train. That wasn't the point of this. Of any of this. He'd been so excited to have Sherlock here that he was almost giddy. It was wonderful! And then he had to go and drink the tea. Well. At least it wasn't poisoned.

Not in any sense of the word that Jim might use. Sherlock wouldn't vomit or die, but he had seeded him with something oh so terribly mean.

It was just a taste, and a bit outside of Sherlock's usual solution, but it did mix so easily with the tea when heated first and stirred in. The tingling in his tongue and throat and the punch of wakefulness would surely clue him in to the cocaine.

"Irrelevant! Oh Sherlock. Sherlock you disappoint me. Why? Why when I go out of my way to make this so easy for you?!"