Late Nights
Sherlock watched Watson pace around the room occasionally lifting something only to put it back down unsatisfied. He'd begin to say something then stop. Finally when Sherlock thought he'd have to throw something at him Watson spoke.
"I was reading the paper today, do you know what I saw?"
"I'm not sure what you're referring to." Sherlock dug a paper out from under a cushion. Blast this was last months.
"You handled a case for a duke a few weeks ago."
"I handle many cases Watson."
"You found his wife for him, she'd run off with half his inheritance in jewels."
"Ah that one. What about it?" Sherlock slouched back onto the couch tucking a pillow under one arm.
"He was soon in trouble afterward or didn't you know?" Watson picked up a paper and glanced at it before tossing it back on the table he'd grabbed it from.
"You're making me want a couple vials of that lovely eye medicine."
"You probably need it.. I think you're going crazy." Watson said with a small frown
"That reminds me of a little ditty I heard a week ago. "Crazy? I was crazy once these men came in white with a sweater to hug myself and put me in a room made of mattresses. All because they said I was crazy. . . Crazy? I was crazy once I woke up one day in a cuddling jacket just for me in a room with pretty pictures no one else could see and they called me crazy. Crazy? I was..."
"Oh sir." Watson rubbed a hand across his eyes wearily.
"Yes dear?" Sherlock asked mockingly.
"I do love your sense of humor but this is really-"
"I love you as well now where is my smoking jacket?" Sherlock interrupted.
"Out the window." Watson snapped annoyed
Sherlock stared at him trying to find a hint of jest., "You didn't!"
"Why the hell not. I don't want you to have it anymore." Watson said as he walked to the other side of the room.
"Wha Bu Why?" Sherlock wailed looking decided put out.
"Because I wanted it and you wouldn't let me have it back." Watson teased leaning against the fireplace.
"It was mine gods blast it!" Sherlock roared slamming his fists onto the couch.
"Well too fucking bad." Watson replied slowly
"Watson. . ." he whispered his face crumbling.
"I did it out of love my pet." Watson said taking pity on Sherlock and his mercurial mood shifts.
"Funny kind of love that is." he retorted with a pout.
"Yes, I bet you think so. But it isn't so." Watson answered beginning to lose his patience.
"Hmph." was the grunted reply.
Enough is enough, Watson's frayed temper flared." Don't pout at me sir! And don't you dare 'hmph' at me."
Sherlock glanced towards him and realized something was wrong with his friend. "Temper my love."
"Yes! Temper!" Watson roared pulling his cane from somewhere amid the rabble.
"You'll put an eye out with that thing." Sherlock murmured eyeing him warily as he stood.
"I'll put out more then that by the time I'm through with you!" Watson growled.
"Just leave the experiments alone you may even beat me thoroughly it's just I don't want to lose all that data." he sighed holding his hands out to his sides.
"The experiments? You're worried about your fucking DATA!" Watson shouted. "You should be worried for you fucking life!"
Sherlock watched him tear through the room in a fit of temper shocked. He'd seen him rage before but never in the flat like this.
"Sweet gods above! This is why men shouldn't go to war in India especially quiet well bred Englishmen it ruins them." Sherlock exclaimed plopping down into a chair. He noticed his violin have buried underneath random pieces of equipment. With the barest of thoughts towards organizing in the near future he began to tune it.
Watson snatched it out of his grasp before he'd gotten close to finishing the first string. "Sherlock. . . Please!"
Groaning he fell back into the chair throwing an arm over his eyes the sun seemed to be getting brighter. "Yes Watson?"
"Why? Why do you do this to me? Why do you insist on pissing me off?" Watson raged. "Over a jacket? Then you doubt my affection. Throw my fucking past at me. Then have the balls to pick up your fucking violin which you know I hate more then anything else you do!"
Sherlock stared at him in shock, scrambling to find something to say he somewhat lamely tossed out "So I suppose you don't want to hear about the case I just solved?"
"Not particularly. Or else if it's some how relevant to our current predicament." he replied acidly the glared at Sherlock suspiciously. "Where's my dog?"
"Dog? We have a dog?" Sherlock began thinking rapidly. "Watson really my dear we must discuss these things."
Deciding that this conversation too could only end badly he began shuffling through papers on a table looking for his pipe. Watson glared at him for a moment then threw the pipe at his back, disgusted.
"Idiot. . . What have you done to my dog?"
Sherlock saw the flying pipe and ducked watching it land on top several designs for a muzzle to quiet a gun blast.. "Now Watson name calling is just not necessary it demeans your intelligence."
"Darling... " Watson eyed him annoyed. "You're impossible."
"Never impossible my love just improbable." Sherlock grinned happy Watson's flare of temper seemed to be over. "Be a dear and grab some tea?"
"Grab your own damn tea." he grumbled as he fell into the chair beside him.
"But I don't know where the kettle is "Nanny" hid it from me!" Sherlock whined and crossed his arms over his chest in a pout
Watson rolled his eyes. "Then maybe you should learn to behave."
"I do behave!" Sherlock cried out indignantly then settled back into his pout. "She's just impossible to live with."
"What do you consider behaving!" Watson asked incredulous.
Sherlock glanced at Watson before adding opium laced tobacco to his pipe. "Well the house is still standing isn't?"
"Indeed it is. But you've managed to kill my dog again."
"Again with this dog. I sincerely doubt that small doses of LSD has killed it. If it did exist that is." Sherlock protested. Then watched as Gladstone stumbled into the room. His tail wagging causing him to weave drunkenly.
"It appears that yet again you were wrong." Watson remarked patting his dog gently.
"How was I wrong? He is very much alive." Sherlock complained then added as the dog fell onto it's side in a stupor, "Well perhaps not 'very much'."
"I've got to go. I'm to have tea with Mary's parents."
Sherlock was silent for a moment "Well if you must. Did you want your winnings from last nights brawl wagered for tonight?"
Watson stared at him, Sherlock found it almost entertaining watching the indecision on his face.
"No." He finally said at last tapping his cane on the floor.
"Are you sure there are very good odds tonight and I know who will win." Sherlock needled him with a straight face.
"It really doesn't interest me right now." Watson replied abruptly standing.
"Very well I'll place your usual bets." Sherlock arched in the chair stretching his muscles. "Do you want me to bring them round to your flat tomorrow?"
"You know I'll end up here, why waste your time?" Watson asked suspicious.
"I'd like to visit that's all. There's a few rooms that seem to have very nice support beams I could use. . ." Sherlock trailed off nibbling on a thumbnail.
"No!" Watson barked. "You are just fine here. You are not invading my flat."
"Of course not dear Watson. I would never invade your home." Sherlock stared at him wounded. "I was only mentioning that your home does look rather sturdy. . . "
"It is! And I would like to keep it that way if you don't mind." he interrupted. "My bed is in poor enough condition because of you, I'm not letting you destroy the rest of my home."
"What have I done to your bed?"Sherlock asked outraged.
"I don't even know! I came home to it in shambles and you passed out in the kitchen cuddling my pickled eggs."
"They were some seriously deranged pickled eggs I felt they need positive reinforcement which I'm sure they do not get from you." he responded with a sniff.
Sighing exasperated. "Whatever you saw dear."
"Oh I saw quite a few things. . ."
"Oh? Do tell." Watson said dryly.
Sherlock cleaned out his pipe before replying. "Well I saw a few moles and freckles I knew already and a few I do not believe I was suppose to. . ."
"Just so long as you didn't locate the birthmark.." he replied staring heavenward.
"Of course not." Sherlock replied shuffling papers not looking at Watson.
"Tell me where it is then." he demanded arms crossed.
"Watson it is entirely too vulgar that you are trying to discuss you innocent wife's body with me in the state that I'm in." Sherlock tutted as he picked up his violin and began tuning it again.
Watson grabbed it and tossed it across the room without a change in expression. "That may be true.. But your condition is forever changing so I don't find it to matter too much."
Sherlock stared at the violin where it landed and then turned to look at his friend.
"Watson I do believe you're upset but for the very life of me I cannot fathom why. I am the poor soul being accosted and battered by a dear friend." he forced a tear to fall from his left eye.
"Battered? I haven't touched you. Put your tears away." Watson told him in dismissal.
"My violin could very well be beyond repair, you've destroyed months worth of notes on very delicate experiments I am battered to my very soul." Sherlock insisted wrapping his arms around himself dramatically.
"Your violin landed on the damn couch you idiot. And your experiments are perfectly fine." Watson said leaning against a table. "You know I could never really destroy something like that."
"But the papers all those notes all in disarray because of your temper." Sherlock sniffed putting the sleeve of his shirt to his nose.
"And a lot worse could have been. Suck it up. You destroy my life day in and day out. We're even."
Sherlock stared at him trying to see if he was joking but he didn't seem to be. "I. I have destroyed your life?"
"You're a big help to it's downfall, yes."
"Oh do explain." Sherlock demanded eyeing him angrily.
"I'd rather not." Watson glanced at the clock. "I was supposed to leave half an hour ago."
Sherlock growled through gritted teeth. Watson constantly complained of his being vague, and mood shifts then did things like this. It was enough to drive a man to drink. . . well more anyway.
A bit of self-control if you don't mind, please." Watson said staring at him blankly.
"I am very much in control of myself."
"And yet you growl.."
"I was clearing my throat. My pipe must need cleaning. . ." Sherlock replied lifting said pipe as evidence.
"You're full of bull."
"I was unaware that bulls were able to growl. . ." Sherlock shot him a dirty look. "Where did you learn that interesting tidbit?"
"When you growled. Why exactly did that occur?"
"I told you I was clearing my throat what you like to do with your spare time is no concern of mine." Sherlock snapped.
"Why must you always tell tales?" Watson inquired beginning to sound amused.
"I didn't realize it was story time. Which one will you be telling today?" Sherlock nastily as he picked up the violin and held it close.
"Just don't start making any noise with it." he ordered staring at the violin as its very existence was offensive, the clock caught his eye, "Shit."
Unable to help himself Sherlock ran his fingers along the strings making barely a whisper of sound. "What's wrong now Watson?"
"I was supposed to have met Mary over an hour ago."
"Really?" Sherlock played an upbeat dramatic piece without thinking. "The pitfalls of marital bliss."
"I told you not to play that." Watson ground out between his teeth with a voice that seemed to start from his feet.
Sherlock stared at him while plucking a dramatic chase "I'm not doing anything wrong."
"Why can't you just please wait until I leave? I hate you and that damn thing. If it wouldn't break you, I'd obliterate it faster than you can blink." Watson cried out throwing his hands in the air.
"I am not so easily broken as you well know. Besides you used to love me playing my violin." Sherlock muttered hurt.
"Until you began keeping me up at all hours with your playing, yes. I loved it very much. It'd also help if you would play whole songs, not mash bits and pieces together into chaos." Watson pointed out glaring at him.
"As you well know it is not chaos it has actually created order out of chaos." Sherlock replied nose in the air.
"That was blasphemy and luck."
"It was not blasphemy in the least it was a well planned experiment that succeeded." he insisted.
Watson sighed looking resigned. "Fine Sherlock. Whatever you say. You can play that thing all night so long as you play my song."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Sherlock froze not meeting Watson's gaze
Cocking an eyebrow he frowned "I'm fairly sure you do know exactly what I mean. Just a song, how badly could it go?"
"It could go very badly." Sherlock murmured fingers tapping on the strings nervously.
"How so my dear?" Watson pulled him down onto the couch.
"If you suddenly decide that this charmed life is a little too charmed you will run again." the violin fell into his lap.
Watson stuck out his lower lip. "Please? It's been so many months. Just play it?"
Sherlock shifted nervously on the couch not meeting his gaze. "I do not know where the bow is. . ."
"It's next to your left foot. . ."
"Oh. . ." Sherlock slid down from the couch grabbing his bow. Placing it on the string he sat there then bit his bottom lip. "I'm not sure I know how it goes would you hum the first few notes?"
Watson grinned and began humming the tune. A few notes in Sherlock began playing slowly at first then more confidently. A small smile touched his lips when he heard Watson begin singing along. The notes stuttered for a moment when Watson started stroking his hair but he controlled himself tapping his foot on the floor.
"See? Now how bad was that? How about another?" Watson asked still playing with his hair. "I like you curls."
"It's hard to concentrate when you're doing that so choose an easy one please ." Sherlock told him rubbing along his knee like a cat.
Watson moved across the room to his chair "Better?"
With a frown Sherlock slid the violin across the floor then crawled slowly towards him "I didn't say that so you would stop."
With a sly grin Watson apologized.
"I'm sure." Sherlock drawled laying his head on Watson's knee trying to look winsome.
"You're kinda cute. All down on your knees and such." Watson remarked playing with a loose curl.
"Only cute?" he cried pretending to be outraged. "I would at the very least claim adorable."
"I try not to encourage your ego too much."
Sherlock snorted then blew a lock of hair away from his face "There are many things you may be accused of but stroking my ego is very rarely one of them."
"Then see, I am successful in my mission." Watson grinned.
"May the gods save me from your tender mercies." he crawled closer wrapping his arms around Watson's torso. "You keep me from getting too full of myself no matter how brilliant I am."