```
"Let's hear it?" Sherlock didn't respond to Watson's teasing.
Watson then fiddled with the hair on his forehead, his expression revealing a bit of complaint, "You really don't know how to be considerate... Aren't you going to thank me first? Here I am, invited you for a drink, and this happens, and now I have to help you interrogate... Do you know how mentally exhausting it is to interrogate someone?"
"I think you can stop pretending now," Sherlock said, eyes half-closed, "Look at your flushed face!"
"Is that so... Alright, I'll stop pretending then." Watson, having had his habit exposed, didn't mind at all and continued, "He did indeed tell your name to someone, named—Theodore Sloane."
"Who is that?"
"A pope, subordinate of a church in Cleveland, over 700 kilometers from London."
At the mention of a pope, Sherlock's eyebrows inadvertently raised.
