A Study in Gold

John slowly came up the carpeted steps of 22b. It had been a long day at work, with a case of bronchitis, strep throat, and many flues. It was mid-February, the time where it seemed every human under the sun became infected with something or another. He entered the doorway to his flat, and threw his coat on the ground. It was when he lifted his eyes to the scene before him that he stood staring, with his mouth gaping.

Sherlock Holmes, his genius flat-mate and constant companion was staring at a small glass bowl on his desk, which contained an ordinary ochre gold-fish which was mindlessly swimming about. Sherlock occasionally made little fish faces with his lips against the glass, making a squealing kissing noise.

"Umm, Sherlock?" John inquired. Sherlock, seeming not to have heard him, continued to make fish sounds.

"SHERLOCK!" John cried. Sherlock started and nearly tipped the fish bowl over.

"Oh John, for God's sake! You almost made me knock Jeremiah over!"

"Jeremiah?" John spluttered, utterly bemused.

"The fish, John! Honestly, you can be so ignorant sometimes. I got this fish at the pet store today. My skull was getting a bit boring, so I decided on a goldfish. Dependable, and you don't need to give them any attention. I named him Jeremiah after my great-uncle. You'll be feeding it of course."

John couldn't hold it any longer. He ran up to his room and hysterically laughed into a pillow for a good few minutes. And when he thought Sherlock couldn't get any stranger…