John? No. Too sentimental.
Mary? No, John would get too suspicious.
Mycroft? Ha! As if.
Lestrade? Nope. Besides, what was his name in the first place?
Ander-No, no, no. He didn't want to lower the IQ of the whole street, did he?
Mrs. Hudson? No, John might laugh. And although many people seemed to think that Sherlock had no feelings, he actually did. He did have feelings, like any other human (although some might argue that he wasn't) and he really did care about John Watson's opinion. But of course, he would never admit that to anyone, would he?
Violin? What kind of name was that? Well, Sherlock isn't exactly that ordinary either...
"Sherlock?"
Footsteps echoed from the first floor.
"Sherlock?"
This time louder, from behind the door that led to where he was currently sitting, or rather sprawled, across his chair, deep in thought. The jostling of the doorknob, the clatter of keys as he found the right one, the following click and groan of hinges as the door opened, and soon a figure was towering over him...if towering was the word.
"Sherlock, I'm here. What is it? Is something wrong? You said there was an emergency. Are you hurt?"
He scrambled around, checking for injuries. A quick look told him that the curly haired man was in perfect health, if his pale complexion was natural, that is.
"Jesus, Sherlock! I was in the middle of work, and you called me here because you-"
He stopped short, realizing that his counterpart had been unresponsive ever since he had arrived.
"Sherlock?"
No response.
"Sherlock."
This time louder, to no avail. He sighed in defeat and flopped into his chair. As soon as he heard the shifting and reassembling of tangled limbs, he too shifted around to gaze upon Sherlock, clad in his dressing gown, finally paying attention to him.
"You done organizing your thoughts in that Mind Palace of yours?"
A roll of eyes. John kept going, not paying attention,
"Good. So, why am I here in the first place?"
"I need your opinion."
"On what?" He huffed. "A cold case? Your impeccable timing?"
"Neither. I'm thinking of getting a new companion."
...
"Your insane."
He quirked his eyebrow.
"John, need I remind you that I am not a psychopath, as every one speculates, but instead-"
"A high-functioning sociopath, yes, yes, and that is exactly why I am puzzled. You are doing perfectly fine so far, why do you need a companion?"
"Everyone gets bored at some point John."
A quick glance to the right followed by,
"Yes, I think the wall can attest to that," is his response. Sherlock continues,
"With a companion of sorts, I will be able to avoid running into the most tedious of situations involving myself and the world of goldfish."
"Sherlock, are you admitting that you're lonely?"
"And I thought that you were more tolerable than others."
To be continued...
-PS
A/N: I welcome and implore you to give any suggestions for my stories/chapters. I also encourage reviews. Lots and lots of reviews, because then, I will check out your stories and review them too!