Disclaimer: Don't own, otherwise there'd be many more episodes per season and no wait in between...
Note: Bear with me, I'm trying to figure out how to post the chapters... I might give up and publish the whole thing... Please review :)
1. Sherlock and his mind palace
He walked into the stainless steel lift and went to the 36th floor. Down the white corridor, he walked up to room number 8 on the right. Ah, he loved this room. The light yellow walls with white trims, the sun always shining pleasantly through diaphanous white curtains. And the elegant glass paneled bookcase on the wall. This year's crop of Level 8 cases, all solved.
He sat on the comfy chair, opened a folder and started filing the case's sub-folders with clues, murder scenes, interrogations... But he couldn't keep his mind focused. That was odd. Usually this room was very soothing and a pleasure to sit in. He could spend hours here. After a few more tries, he gave up and stood up. He left the folder on the side table. He'd have to come back to it later.
No, he refused to go to that other room. There was nothing to report. He opted instead for a walk in the gardens. It had been a while since he had visited them. Usually he'd only go there to escape, to calm down, or to think things through a different angle when a case was proving itself difficult. It had different areas with different types of gardens, a maze, a modern veranda, an old-fashioned gazebo and a greenhouse. This time, he settled himself in the modern veranda overlooking a pond. The raised and covered platform had elegant red plain cloth panels that floated lazily in the breeze between every other pair of wood columns. The comfortable patio furniture allowed him to lounge and think of nothing. He reclined and tried to clear his mind.
Then he heard a muffled bang. Ah, John must be back, he thought. No matter. He's so predictable. He has been to a pub for at least a couple of hours, has had a few pints and now he'll go straight to his room and avoid talking to me. He'll just sulk and give me the silent treatment for two or three days. Then he either eventually gets over it or a case comes up and resets his priorities.
This subject, this argument has come up before. Why is caring so important? Why can't John just let go? John always gets upset with me over the victims and their families' suffering. I've never pretended to care, he should know that by now. He gets disproportionately mad at such things.
Mycroft was right. John would never admit it, but he also loves the puzzle solving, the hunt, the adventure, the danger. The only difference between us is that he has this romantic idea of chivalry, the need of a hero. If John could only understand... he has so much potential, if only he'd take off those emotional goggles he wears so proudly.
He spent some time there, until he was finally able to go back to the 36th floor and file the last case.