Holmes gave him a look. He didn't like to challenged, and he didn't like to be told what he did and didn't need. Just like nicotine was sometimes needed to get his brain moving; the only thing able to bring it to rest was a nice quick helping of morphine.
"I'm a Consulting Detective." He seemed slightly irritated to have to slow down his pace, but he did it anyway to accommodate the other man. It reminded him a little of when he'd first met John, who hadn't quite gotten over his psychosomatic limp which had been brought on by boredom, and a longing for a war he could no longer be apart of. It was in interesting affliction, to be sure, and that was part of the reason that Holmes had been so initially drawn to it. "The only one in the world. I invented the job."