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He won’t ever admit it later, but the reason James first approaches Sherlock isn’t to confront him about his kleptomaniac habits — although seeing him brazenly pick Hodge’s pocket in front of the entire room is striking. Rather, it’s because Sherlock’s a scout. The only type of person in all bloody Oxford that’s below James in terms of class, at least the way his fellow students see it, and there he is, entirely unafraid, chattering away in a phony accent as he slips the watch into his palm.
And, well, if that header can do something so utterly mad, why can’t James? There’s a party today, he’s heard.
He drags Sherlock with him, because the scout’s interesting, and, disappointingly, there’s not many people at Oxford who are. Frankly he despairs of his peers, although he despairs a little less than he might’ve done if there weren’t a pretty woman or two.
The party turns into an accusation of theft against his new friend, which turns into a bit of a chase. But all’s well that ends well, as per the Bard; the Chinese princess even makes an appearance for a nightcap at the end of it.
James thinks, as he leaves Sherlock and Her Highness to their business and heads for a pint, that he wouldn’t have minded staying in the bedroom.
Sherlock gapes like a fish when she kisses him and Xiao Wei silently curses her taste in men. Why could she not at least become interested in one who shows some — well, interest? Like James. James would have been a fine choice. Mei Yi would make so much fun of her for this, if she were here.
Xiao Wei hopes like hell Mei Yi made it home. Otherwise, she will have one more spirit to release from liànyù when she finally puts a bullet through Silas Holmes’s skull.
“We will never speak of this again,” she tells Sherlock, who still looks completely witless.
He recovers quickly. “I presume we’ll not be doing it again, either?”
“What, do you really want to?”
“Erm, no, thank you, I’m alright.” His hand moves unconsciously to his side where she’d shot him, and then up to his shirt collar, by his heart. “I was only asking because James has been trying to make… this… happen, and I’d love to finally tell him to shut up about it.”
“If James wants to involve himself in my relationships, maybe he should involve himself properly.” Xiao Wei punctuates this with a finger to her lips. Honestly, she doesn’t mind the idea. It doesn't seem like Sherlock minds either — he looks far more interested than scandalized when he blushes.
“Come have a drink before you go,” Sherlock suggests.
Xiao Wei raises her eyebrow, and he can feel his face turning red. “Drinking,” she says, in a tone that makes it very clear what she’s remembering, “in your room? Are you sure?”
“Yes, well, James will be there too.”
“Oh, if James is there,” Xiao Wei drawls, and laughs. “Yes, Sherlock. I will have a drink with you both.”
“Princess!” James says when he sees who Sherlock has in tow. “I didn’t realize you’d be here. Shall I head out?” he adds to Sherlock.
Xiao Wei sits on the edge of the bed while Sherlock goes to pour out the drinks. “Don’t,” she tells James. “I don’t think Sherlock is particularly interested in having me here alone, is he?”
“You two are the most interesting friends I’ve had in some time —”
“Or ever,” says James.
He concedes the point. “Or ever. Do forgive me if I’d prefer to spend the evening in the company of both of you, not just one. Particularly as our princess is leaving us tomorrow.”
“I am still not a princess,” Xiao Wei corrects; James winks and tells her “I’m sure they’d let you be one if you asked, a beautiful woman like yourself,” and Sherlock laughs and throws his whiskey back and doesn’t think about betrayal.