John blinked. Twice, just for good measure.
Then he took a wary step back and surveyed the contents of the cutlery drawer.
The drawer had three partitions in it, which in turn created four sections. He had always been baffled by the need for four different compartments when they only had three different types of cutlery (Knife, Fork, Spoon – no room for error) – but Sherlock had always been insistent that the fourth created a necessary balance.
Balance my arse. He just uses it for experiment-storage. Thought John.
But he-who-lives-with-Sherlock learns not to fret the small stuff and, despite how little he thought of their four section drawer, John had been meticulous about ensuring the three stayed separate and the last section remained empty.
But today was different. Today it had something in it. Something... questionable, even for Sherlock.
He frowned slightly, and drew a short breath before attracting the attention of his flatmate, who was currently occupied on John's laptop, eyes whizzing across the screen in a way that made it obvious Sherlock was 'downloading' information to his 'brain-hard drive'. Why the younger man couldn't just use his own (faster, more expensive) laptop escaped John. He'd given up changing the password now, it didn't matter what he tried, Sherlock would still always figure it out.
"Sherlock-" he paused slightly to see if he was listening, but you could never tell with Sherlock anyway, so he pressed on. "What... is this... are you doing another experiment?"
"I am currently conducting three experiments, John." His gaze didn't leave the screen.
"And, I assume at least one is related to..." He cleared his throat awkwardly "... The body part in the Kitchen?"
Now the grey eyes flicked up, though only briefly, observed John and his position within the Kitchen and the drawer that was open, then he returned to looking at the laptop. The fact that Sherlock had to check which part of the Kitchen John was referring to was cause for alarm alone, let alone the slight twitch that was playing about the detective's mouth.
"Of course they are John, I don't keep body parts around just to avoid tedium."
"Could've fooled me."
The grey eyes narrowed and no further explanation was offered. John took a few moments to gather his courage before he pressed on with the conversation.
"Do I want to know where you got it?... Or-"
"Morgue."
"Jesus Sherlock... how did you even... Does Molly know you've taken this from a body?"
"Molly? No, why would Molly know."
"Well, how about because those bodies are her responsibility. She could get into serious trouble if you keep... stealing bits."
"I hardly need to tell her everything I do, John. We both have jobs that require us to do certain things and take certain measures. She understands."
"Of course she does." Sarcasm - a dangerous option when trying to talk to Sherlock because there was always a high possibility he'd just ignore your tone of voice if your words favoured his point.
Sherlock eyed the doctor grouchily before closing the laptop and switching to his mobile. It was a minute or so before he spoke again.
"He had a donor card." He said petulantly, and when no reply was forthcoming he continued "Besides, Molly's used to it by now... I doubt she'll notice."
"Oh I think she'll notice, Sherlock."
"Fine, maybe she will but she won't care, and that's practically the same."
"She won't care..." He repeated that slowly, taking time to process the fact that Sherlock know-it-all Holmes genuinely thought that a leading mortician wouldn't care if parts of her bodies went missing.
"She didn't care about the fingers or the toes. She didn't even care about the head, John I don't think-"
"That doesn't mean you can just go around... chopping off a corpse's 'todger'."
"Why not? He's not using it anymore."
"Why not...?" John echoed his flatmate, hardly able to believe that he was actually having this conversation. "Fine. Well, how would you feel if your penis had been removed from your dead body to be used in some, no doubt weird, experiment?"
"Don't be an idiot John, I'd be dead. However if – at the slight possibility – there was some form of afterlife, and I was conscious of my ex-body's state, then I would be happy to be of use –"
Useful. Of course he'd feel useful, dedicated to science, even in death.
"- however, supposing they did then undoubtedly they would have to store it in a bigger compartment."
A – not as awkward as it should have been – silence filled the room.
John coughed. "Fine, fine." He held his hands up and dropped his head, mainly so Sherlock wouldn't notice him rolling his eyes. "Can we just, not have it in the flat please?"
John tried not to look uncomfortable. He'd just asked Sherlock to throw out one of his experiments – perish the thought – and he didn't want to know how his flatmate was going to react. Needless to say it came as quite a surprise when Sherlock silently rose, pocketing his phone, and made his way past John and into the Kitchen. John watched with widened eyes as Sherlock removed the bag and its phallic contents from the flat.
It wasn't until later that night, after John had eaten his impromptu take-away (John didn't quite fancy the only thing left in the house – sausages) and Sherlock had once again refused a meal, when they talked about it again.
He spoke, because something needed to be said. "So, why is it in the cutlery drawer? Why not the fridge like normal?"
"I needed conditions to be room temperature and dry, however the fact that I thought it might alarm you if I left it out on the table and the fact that it is after all, quite unsightly, caused me to deem it necessary to store it in a cupboard or drawer. The cutlery drawer just so happened to be the first one with a vacant compartment."
John didn't want to ask what was in the other compartments, so instead he asked:
"What was the experiment? It's just... well you didn't seem too upset about me asking you to throw it out..."
John noticed two things simultaneously; Sherlock averting his eyes from John and the edges of his mouth twitching unashamedly. He was obviously finding this humorous.
"Oh, nothing of consequence. I'd decided quite before you even noticed the thing that it would bear no significant results."
John knitted his eyebrows together momentarily before shaking the conversation from his head. Perhaps some things really were best left alone.
Sherlock watched his flatmate with a succinct smirk playing across his features. He had been very bored today, and this 'experiment' had just been his awry idea of a joke.
At least Sherlock was amused... for the time being.
Author's note:
I'm not quite sure what that was...
^This is what happens when I'm stuck in an exam for 10 hours!^
Ughhh - oh well. Thanks for reading ^.^