"I don't know why I even have to be here, Watson. I'm clean now; I don't need these support meetings." Sherlock muttered. He looked at her and she brought her finger to her lips in a gesture telling him to be quiet. She redirected her attention towards the man speaking about his 3rd year sober. He sighed in annoyance and sunk down into his chair.
Joan looked at him from the corner of her vision. She watched as his eyes began to droop and his breathing slowed.
Sherlock concentrated on his breathing and kept counting down from ten.
10…breathe…9…breathe…8…breathe…
Joan straightened up in her chair and realization hit her. He was putting himself into a trance!
She kept her eyes on the speaker as she moved her hand up to his head and smacked the back of it. He jumped and glared at her. Joan smirked, never even looking at the consulting detective.
Sherlock sunk back down in his chair and tried to listen to the man drabble on and on about his troubles and temptations with drugs. Sherlock leaned his head back and sighed. This was going to be a long two hours.
"…and that's how I overcame my addiction." The man concluded.
"Thank you, George. Your story about the temptations and hardships of your path to being sober was very inspiring. Don't you all agree?" The supervisor spoke. The small circle of recovering addicts nodded. "Well, I think that concludes our meeting…"
Sherlock straightened up in his chair at the statement. "Let's go." He grabbed Watsons hand and stood up.
Joan yanked her hand away and pointed towards the supervisor. "We need to hear when the next meeting is."
"Mr. Holmes, please take a seat and be patient. The meeting is almost done." The supervisor redirected his attention to the whole circle and put on a fake smile. "Let's all thank George for coming in and sharing his story with us." The circle clapped while thanking the guest speaker.
George smiled. "It was my pleasure. I want you all to know that your goals of being clean and sober are achievable. You may stumble like I have but- "
Sherlock cut him off. "You're still stumbling."
"What?" George looked at Sherlock questioningly.
"You're still doing drugs. Well tobacco, to be exact." Sherlock pulled his chair towards George and took a seat.
"I don't know what you're talking about." George stood up, clearly uncomfortable by how close Sherlock was to him. "Yesterday was my 3rd year sober…"
"Maybe from alcohol, which I doubt…but not from drugs." Sherlock stood up and gestured towards George. "Ladies and Gentlemen…I present to you, a fake."
"Why do you think he's faking?" Joan shook herself from her shock of seeing Sherlock become so animated at a meeting.
"When my friend George here smiled, I noticed little white patches on his gums and on the inside of his lips." Sherlock paused to collect his breath.
George took advantage of the pause and tried to brush it off as not a big deal. "So?"
"Those white patches are called Leukoplakia. Leukoplakia is caused when the user overuses tobacco. The user, like George here, places the chewing tobacco on the inside of his mouth, between his gums and his lips. It stays there as the user absorbs the nicotine." Sherlock stated proudly.
"I used to do tobacco…but as I said before, I am 3 years clean and sober. The white patches are probably from the past." George shrugged.
"It is true that Leukoplakia stays in the mouth forever, but if those were old patches, they wouldn't be so white. The white color fades over time…Now since your white patches are whiter than the clouds above, we have to come to the conclusion that you gave in to your temptations and began using again." Sherlock smiled, pleased with himself.
"Is that true, George?" The supervisor stood and went over to George. He placed a hand on George's shoulder but the man shook it off.
"You God-damned bastard! Do you know what you've done?" George advanced towards Sherlock in a hostile state.
Sherlock stood his ground and smirked. "You're just mad that I was right."
The supervisor pulled George away and took him to the far-end of the room. They began conversing and George kept screaming insults at Sherlock.
The consulting detective smiled to himself and looked around the room at the blank faces. "Hello, my name is Sherlock Holmes and I'm actually clean and sober." He turned and left the room, pulling Watson with him.
"What the heck was that? You're supposed to be helpful at these meetings, not start fights!" Joan yelled at him as soon as they were safely out of ear-shot of the group.
"Hey, you should be thanking me." He held the door open for her and she walked through. He followed her out onto the sidewalk.
"Thanking you? For what?" She kept walking as he matched her pace by her side.
"I exposed a fake! He was feeding those people lies!" Sherlock was baffled. He thought she would be proud of him for exposing the imposter.
"You're unbelievable." She mumbled.
"I'm unbelievable?" He scoffed.
"Yes, you. You couldn't have just let him talk and then expose him for being a fake when the group wasn't listening?" Joan bounded up the steps to the Brownstone and unlocked the door.
Sherlock entered the Brownstone after Joan and helped her strip off her coat. He hung it up for her as she made her way to the kitchen.
"So you're giving me the silent treatment now?" Sherlock followed her to the kitchen and stood behind her.
She turned to look at him, rolled her eyes, and turned to walk away, hitting him with her hair in the process.
"Joan?" Sherlock followed behind her. "Jo-oan!" He sang mockingly.
Joan went to the cabinet, ignoring Sherlock's antics. She grabbed his cereal and turned around to face him with a smirk on her face.
"What are you-" He began.
She went to the window and yanked it open. She held the cereal out and looked at him, still smirking.
"Don't you dare." He glared at her. "If you drop that…I'll…I'll…"
"You'll what?" She grinned. She shook the cereal teasingly and laughed at how his eye twitched in anger.
"I'll fire you." He stared at her. If looks could kill, she'd be dead.
"You're bluffing." She smiled.
He frowned. He was bluffing. He wouldn't fire her, he needed her. "Please…" He pleaded.
"I'll give you back your cereal when you agree to go to support meetings…without starting fights." She shook the box again in order to persuade his answer.
"No." He stood his ground. She must be bluffing.
Joan shrugged and started to toss it out the window.
"No! Stop! I'll do it…" He muttered.
She stopped mid-toss and put her hand to her ear. "What was that?"
"I'm not going to say it again." He crossed his arms and his face went into a pout.
She began to pretend to toss it again as he stood there pouting.
"No!" He screamed.
She stopped again and smiled. "Then say it."
"Fine! I'll go to the stupid support meetings." He pouted.
"And?" She shook the cereal box once more.
"And I won't start fights." He mumbled.
"And you can't put yourself into a trance either." She added. He began to protest but she raised her eyebrows and pointed to the cereal.
"Fine." He muttered in defeat.
"Good. Thank you." She smiled.
"Now can I have my cereal back?" He reached out for it.
Joan tossed it to him and he caught it. He hugged it to his chest and she rolled her eyes. Joan left the kitchen and went up to her room.
Sherlock felt the box and paused. The box was really light… He opened the box and it revealed itself to be empty.
"What the…?" He went to the cabinet and yanked the door open. The bag of cereal that belonged in the box, sat safely in the middle of the shelf. His cereal was never in any danger…she had tricked him.
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