"How about we go for a run?"
Sherlock looked up from his cereal bowl, glanced around the kitchen and then returned his gaze to her, "I'm sorry, were you talking to me?"
She pursed her lips at him, "Come on, it will do you good to get outdoors, get some exercise, some fresh air …"
"I am quite certain there is absolutely no fresh air whatsoever to be found in Brooklyn and its environs. Besides, why waste the first free day we've had in weeks on meaningless activity. Why not put our time to good use?"
"Okay. What would you like to do then?" Joan poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table with him.
"The Cloisters has had a nice crop of mandrakes sprout up this spring. The seedlings are due to be planted in the main gardens today. I thought we could run up there, talk to the head botanist. She is extremely knowledgable in the area of medieval horticulture; she specializes in nightshades and their medicinal as well as more nefarious uses." He nodded his head and flashed his eyes wide, hoping to infect her with his enthusiasm.
"Right… " Joan looked skeptically at him, "That sounds like work. Come on, Sherlock, we decided last night we would do something fun … together."
"Work is fun, Watson."
"I was thinking more along the lines of frivolous fun, something with no redeeming social value. Sit in the park and get ice cream or … I know, how about Coney Island?"
A silent expressionless stare met her suggestion. Joan sighed. "Nevermind. That sounds exhausting. It's been a rough week. Maybe we should just go our separate ways."
Sherlock took in another large mouthful of cereal and chewed. They sat lost in thought for a few minutes.
Sherlock finished the last of his cereal, and spoke,"If you could do anything at all today, with no restrictions, money, time location all available, what would you want to do?"
A slight blush tinged Joan's cheeks. She knew what she wanted; she looked down in embarrassment as she spoke…..
************
1:15 a.m.
Having relocated to the library around 9:00 p.m. for the sake of comfort, they now sat huddled together on the pillowy sofa, the plaid blanket covering their legs.
"Well, that was less than satisfying, don't you think?"
"Hmmm. Yes." Sherlock agreed. "Should we continue or move on to something else?"
Joan covered her yawn with the back of her hand, "It's getting late …"
"Sorry, Watson. We can stop…" Sherlock didn't want to tire her out completely.
"No. Actually, I think I can handle a little more. They have season six of Doc Martin available now. I've been wanting to see it."
Sherlock smirked at her, "You want to watch a grumpy, rude Brit who cannot express his emotions tell people off … interesting." She smiled at him and he returned a closed lip version of the smile to her.
"I'm getting hungry again though. Why don't you make some more popcorn, and I'll set up the laptop upstairs. We can watch in bed." She removed the blanket and stood to stretch.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "You are inviting me into your bed?" he teased.
"I am inviting you onto my bed. There's a difference." Joan pulled the red cardigan a little closer.
"Alright, " Sherlock popped off the sofa, tugging at his tshirt where it had bunched up. "We have truly and completely wasted this day, haven't we?" He stretched from side to side.
"Not a waste," Joan called from over her shoulder. "We learned not to trust Kevin Spacey. …. We need to watch The Usual Suspects at some point. I think Netflix still has it available …
******
Morning light found them sprawled out on Joan's bed, popcorn-sprinkled and blissfully asleep. His head lay on her shoulder, her head rested atop his and the laptop rested between them, closed and silent. A phone ringing somewhere downstairs brought Sherlock up to semi-consciousness.
"Phone's ringing," he mumbled into her shoulder.
"Answer it," Joan adjusted her cheek, rubbing it across the soft-haired pillow his head was providing her. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to give up on sleep quite just yet.
"Mmm …. 'k, I will." He murmured as he snuggled a little closer and fell back to sleep. The next time Sherlock woke up was at the insistence of Joan's voice.
"Rise and shine. I bring sustenance." Joan imitated him as best she could. Sherlock opened one eye and found a breakfast tray set on the bed. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee swirled around him and persuaded the other eye to open.
Joan crawled back into her side of the bed, opening the laptop, "Think you can handle the last three episodes of Doc Martin?"
A groggy Sherlock sat up and reached for his cup, "I suppose there are worse ways to start the day."