A/N: so, a new story... Its plot bunny came out of nowhere and managed to nestle in my head quite comfortably. Honestly, I have no idea where it going to lead me, but... why not? Anyway, tell me what do you think. Oh, and by the way, ideas and suggestions appreciated :)
Also, a huge THANK YOU to Pilikia18 for looking this story through for me :)
It crosses my mind for the first time when we're at the crime scene. Sherlock is his usual self - strolling around, rattling out his deductions, winding up Anderson and Donovan and openly mocking Lestrade. There is a familiar long-suffering expression on the Detective Inspector's face, and he shoots me The Look. The one that's clearly saying: 'Do something, PLEASE'.
I hold his gaze and shrug my shoulders slightly, and Lestrade rolls his eyes. We've been through this so many times that I had actually lost count. There's nothing I can do at the moment, except maybe bodily drag Sherlock away from the crime scene and lecture him about the manners.
Been there, done that. Nothing good came out of it, believe me. My flatmate proceeded to listen to me and then, not saying a word, turned around on his heels and marched back to the crime scene.
Needless to say, after that episode Sherlock decided to punish me for such an 'inappropriate behaviour' and resolved to not speaking with me for an entire week. Truth to be said, I wasn't exactly saddened by that turn of events – because, I have to tell you, sometimes Sherlock's habit to think out loud becomes a tad… overwhelming. And of course, our genius absolutely failed to make any conclusions from that situation, so I had no other choice than to simply drop the subject.
But now, seeing Lestrade's tired face and bloodshot eyes, I can't help but wonder what it feels like – to have the ability to make the great Sherlock Holmes submit willingly and do everything he had been told to do. Wishful thinking, of course, but…
And half an hour later, when we finally leave the crime scene - Sherlock practically flying down the stairs in his haste to return to Baker Street and conduct a new experiment with the mysterious substance which he'd found under the victim's fingernails, and me lagging slightly behind to apologise for Sherlock's arrogant behaviour – the idea already pretty much finds its cosy little place in the corner of my mind. This plan is clearly going to require thorough research and preparation, and for obvious reasons I'm going to keep it quiet. I don't know how it may turn out, but I intend to do my best, so everyone could benefit from the situation. If I succeed, it definitely will be worth the wound; if not… Well, let's just say that there are risks in life that should be taken anyway…