Sarah's Weary Advice

Knock on the door to wake up; look at the alarm clock. Three in the morning. Well, there's only one person it could be. Unless he's gone missing . . . No, it wouldn't be three in the morning then.

Dressing gown on. Light on in the kitchen; he'll need a cuppa at the very least. Answer the door. Yep, it's John H Watson in the flesh, looking furious and sheepish at the same time. How does he do that? It's a shame he's already taken. Is it? Well, mostly.

Cuppa made. Listen to what set off the current spat. Cadaver on the living room floor. At least he doesn't storm over for little things. Why can't these things be done in the morgue, or don't the police have some place to stage these little scenes? Oh, well, even if they do, it wouldn't be acceptable to the great Sherlock Holmes. Don't blame John a bit.

Oh, good, he's starting to wind down. Moving from complete outrage to the next step. Idiot? Nope, John's not the idiot. Sherlock's definitely in the wrong. Reassure, reassure, reassure.

Nothing different? Oh, John, most people would have been gone at eyes in the microwave, fingers in the butter dish, or a head, a head!, in the fridge. A cadaver on the living room is not a reasonable thing to come home to. It's the final straw, the breaking point. John's not a saint, no matter how hard he tries. Great man, but not a saint.

Oh, Lord, please. Not a dissection of a dead romance. He was an idiot, but he's a forgiven idiot. Move along. John deserves someone special, he really does.

And, for him, Sherlock is that someone special. Get it through his head; John's not in the wrong.

All right, maybe he overreacted. Can't see how, but maybe he could have handled it better. Still, Sherlock has to learn boundaries, and he has to learn that pushing them leads to problems. Even, heaven help us all, to having to change his behaviour, or this'll just keep happening. On my doorstep at three in the bloody morning.

All right, he's moved on to blaming himself. Silly, but it means he'll be leaving soon. Still, be a good friend. Remind him he's not wrong. Oh. Not going to work. Have to get a word in edgewise. All right, now he's just talking to the wrong person.

Why do so many men shy away from the word love? Sherlock probably has a thing about it. Wouldn't be surprising; Sherlock has a thing about all sorts of strange things. So, John should tell Sherlock he loves him and that he's sorry.

Oh, for- Not for the dead body; that's all Sherlock. For whatever it is he feels badly about.

Oh, dear. John broke up with him. Oh, well, with luck, Sherlock won't realise it. With even more luck, he'll clean up the dead body. Common sense suggestions; that's the ticket here.

Oh, before he goes, remind him. Try to have the domestics at a reasonable hour. Some of us have to be up early.

Why is he surprised at the thought of next time? It's Sherlock; he'll be lucky if next time isn't this week. Honestly, what he puts up with.

Yes, good night. Adding blood to the mess. Think about doing this over lunch, not what his flat must look like. Out of the door, John.

Those two dear idiots. Honestly!