John -SH.
JOHN. -SH
JOHHHHNNNNN - SHJAWWWWNNNNNN - SH.
Bloody hell, Sherlock! What! And why did you spell my name like that?! -JWI'm bored, John. -SH
What's new about that? I'm working, Sherlock, I can't just leave. -JW
I may have burned your new jumper. -SH
SHERLOCK! -JWJohn. -SH
He sighs and rubs his forehead, frustrated. 'Alright. Give me a few minutes to finish up with this patient. I'll tell Sarah I am leaving early today. - JW'Also, we need some more milk, and I may or may not have ruined the kitchen table. Again. -SH
What did you do, Holmes? -JWBurned a hole in the table with acid… also, you don't want to use your favorite mug anymore, I used it as a measuring cup, ish. It's an experiment. Ongoing I might add. I need more milk to complete it. -SH
Then go get some. -JW
But if you're on your way home, you can stop and get some before you are home. -SH
Fine. I just have to ask though, why did you burn my jumper? -JW
Science, John. -SH
The doctor didn't even reply to that one. He pocketed his phone as he threw on his coat, having already told Sarah he didn't feel well enough to keep working today. Watson stepped outside, a chilly breeze met him when he did. Making his way across the street, he ventured into the shop, grabbing some milk before heading back up to the counter. John dreaded to think about what he would see when he got back to 221B.
Sherlock lay on the couch, his fingers steeped together beneath his chin. He was in his blue robe, and hadn't been dressed all day. John stood in the doorway, staring at the chaos before him. "How…"
The table was utterly destroyed. A gaping hole in the middle of it, jagged edges, clearly some kind of combustible, acidic fluid had eaten its way through it. His jumper lay on the only intact part of the table, a large hole in the middle of it as well, and charred around the edges. The place reeked of chemicals.
Sherlock opened one eye and glanced over at him. "John!"
"What in the hell have you been doing, Sherlock!"
"Did you get the milk, John! Brilliant, you did!" He sat up, walked over the coffee table, took the milk from him and went back to the kitchen, sitting at the ruined table. He grabbed John's best coffee mug and poured a hefty amount of the milk into it, soon after he grabbed a bottle, a chemical of some kind, and added it to the milk. John crooked an eyebrow. Sherlock happened to catch his look.
"The milk dilutes the concentrated chemicals. I'm seeing how long it takes the acid to work through certain surfaces. The acid itself naturally takes less time because it is highly concentrated. The milk slows it down of course, but I want precise measurements. Your jumper, being made of fabric of course was the fastest. It's becoming tedious now. I've run out of surfaces to try it on. And I'm almost out of acid. The table took more than I expected. The sink worked nicely, though."
"You burned a hole in the sink with acid!?" John flailed his hands. Unbelievable.
"It was an experiment, John."
"Of course. Isn't everything." He scoffed, slumping down into his arm chair, turning on the television.
Sherlock shrugged and went back to his work. "Thanks for the milk by the way, Watson."
John looked up, staring off. Had Sherlock just thanked him for something? He shook his head. "Uh.. Yeah. No problem, Sherlock." Bloody hell, that was new.
Sherlock furrowed his brow at John. Suddenly his phone went off, signaling a text. "Oh goody! Lestrade has a case. Interesting to say the least. Only a seven though. You know my rule, John." He said.
John sighed. He almost hoped that Sherlock was becoming human from that last bit, but the condescending demand of him going to investigate the case changed that immediately. "Fine. I've no plans this evening anyhow."