"Really, Sherlock?" John huffed exasperatedly as he hung up his coat. "What made you decide that squatting in a dirty alley for two hours in the rain was a good idea?"
The brilliant detective didn't even turn as he slung his coat over the banister at the bottom of the stairs and set about unwrapping his wet, clingy scarf from his neck. "We apprehended the two gunmen, did we not?" He chanced a glance over his shoulder, piercing gray eyes catching sight of John's annoyed expression. Sherlock said, softer this time, "You didn't have to come, John."
The older man's annoyance melted away. "Course I did, you idiot." Sherlock turned, raising one elegant eyebrow. John gave him a smile. "Who else is going to watch your back?"
"Yes, well….Thank you for that, I suppose." John beamed at this unexpected gratitude, and Sherlock found himself smiling in return. However, his smile quickly turned into a smirk as he analyzed his friend's disheveled appearance. "I believe," he said, "that a hot shower would alleviate that pain in your shoulder.
"I'm not even going to ask." The doctor shook his head bemusedly. "Although I agree; a shower definitely sounds good right now." He plucked at his sodden jumper, grimacing in disgust. "I feel like a drowned cat."
Sherlock seemed to contemplate that for a moment before saying, "'Cat' doesn't suit you…more like a drowned hedgehog."
John stared at him incredulously for a moment before bursting into laughter. Sherlock chuckled along with him. When he stopped, John looked at the taller man and said, "Well, you look like an otter. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go take that shower now." He slipped past Sherlock and headed up the stairs, stopping when he reached the top. "Would you order take-out? I haven't had a chance to eat yet, what with following you around all day, and God knows when you last ate."
Sherlock waved him off, muttering, "You know I don't eat when I have a case. Digestion slows down my thought process."
"Yes, well, the case is closed, so order us some food."
As John disappeared to the bathroom, Sherlock started upstairs, taking out his phone obligingly to order Chinese as he did so. After the order was placed, he glanced at his own dripping apparel and decided to go ahead and change. He'd take a shower in the morning, he decided. John generally took approximately twenty-six minutes in the shower. He did a quick calculation in his head, deciding that the food would be arriving around the same time or shortly after, leaving him with an inadequate amount of time in which to shower, himself. That decided, the detective walked the short distance to his room, reemerging moments later in sweats, a T-shirt, and his usual blue dressing gown and towel-drying his hair, making his dark curls even more unruly than usual.
Sherlock glanced around the flat, giving a huff of annoyance. Now that the case was over there was simply nothing to do. He had no experiments that needed attention. The ear he was using to measure the state of earwax in cold temperatures needed to sit for at least another day. John had forbidden him to shoot at the wall, and while he would normally discard a direct order, the detective found himself unwilling to anger his friend. He was just so bored.
Especially with John otherwise occupied.
He slunk over to the sofa, muttering, "Bored…bored…bored…" under his breath. He slouched down on the cushions, mind already reassessing his options, when his eyes fell on an object half-hidden behind the armchair.
His violin.
John had never been one to sing in the shower. Actually, he'd never been one for singing much, ever. Period. The good doctor just could not carry a tune. Therefore, he was able to hear perfectly as Sherlock began to play.
'I have to admit,' he thought, 'the man's good. Really rather good.' The detective switched from melody to melody without a hitch, playing songs John recognized and ones he rather thought his friend had composed himself, blending them all together seamlessly.
The ex-army doctor relaxed, tension bleeding out of him as the hot water soothed his sore muscles and the graceful sounds of the violin continued to float through the flat, obscuring every other sound but that of the shower.
Neither of the two men heard the door downstairs quietly swing open.
AN: Hello there, dear readers! Congratulations! You have just read the first chapter of my first story. Yay! =D I'm here with Legion, the plot-bunny behind this little darling. Say "hi", Legion!
Legion: *stares vacantly* WE ARE LEGION.
*Ahem* Yes, well...I already have the first four chapters completed, & I have begun writing the fifth, but sometimes they take me a while to finish. Therefore, even though Legion & I are doing our very best & working our very hardest, updates may be a bit sporadic at times. Otherwise, I will try to put up a chapter every Sunday. Thank you for reading! Now, you should hit that lovely little button & leave a review. Comments, criticisms, praise, & random mutterings are all accepted, but no flames, please! If you truly don't like my story, no one will force you to read it. Isn't that right, Legion?
Legion: *smiles absently while slowly sharpening claws* WE ARE LEGION. LOVE US.