Not betaed so please forgive any mistakes. I do not own, nor do I profit from.
John turned away from the sink in time to see Sherlock staring at the flowers sitting on their kitchen table.
"Don't worry, they aren't staying. A girl at work was sent them by an ex-boyfriend. She wanted to throw them in the garbage but I thought Mrs. Hudson might like them once she gets back."
"Dwarf Doris," Sherlock murmured.
"What was that?"
"The name of the flower."
"Masquerade as a horticulturist in your spare time?" teased John.
Sherlock stroked a petal, "Grandmother Holmes used to grow them. They were her favourite."
Hearing the soft tone in his flatmate's voice, John sat down in a nearby chair. "Close to her were you?"
Choosing to confide in his flatmate, Sherlock answered, "Yes, she had infinite patience for a young boy full of questions. I would help her in the gardens when I visited during summer holidays. She told me pink was her favourite colour because, amongst other things, it stood for kindness, courage and loyalty. Of course I declared it would always me mine too."
"And is it?"
"I suppose if I was to have a one it would be, for her." Sherlock thought for a moment then said, "You know John, I've never told anyone else, not even Mycroft."
"I won't tell a soul," John promised.
Sherlock smiled shyly at the blossoms.
I know I promised I would post this Friday but, my computer didn't save it earlier so the second half had to be rewritten and real life prevented any writing until last night. Better late then never though!
