All because of a…?
It was already quarter to twelve and both, Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, were at home getting ready to go to bed. They had just solved their last case (a pretty hard and demanding one) and didn't have any on their waiting list so they were done for the day.
-JOHNNNNN!
Sherlock ran down stairs to find John sitting next to the fireplace, reading a book of his very limited collection. A useless piece of literature, if you asked Sherlock. He stood rigidly in front of him looking perturbed. John blinked and showed a little smile, wondering what was up with his friend now. He looked at him building a wall of patience in his mind.
- Yes?
That was his only answer.
Sherlock looked at him with disdain…
- Which one is mine?
- I'm sorry, what? – said John looking puzzled.
Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes like he was to explain something obvious. He talked to John again, a little exasperated this time.
- The toothbrush, John. Which one is mine?
- Oh-… Oh! The pink one is yours. – said John turning back to his book as if the conversation was over.
- Wh- What?!... Why?
- Because the blue one is mine.
- And why can't it be mine?
- Oh, I'm sorry. I just fought that as I am the one who does the shopping every time, I could be the one to choose my own toothbrush.
- wha-? How does that have to do with anything?
-Oh, come on! It's just a toothbrush, Sherlock! I didn't know you we're going to do such a big fuss about it!
- Well, I am!
He turned away and started walking to the door with long steps. He stopped right before stepping outside, turned around and nearly shouted to John.
- I'm Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective in the whole world! And I don't have to go through this idiotic discussion!
He exited the room with highly noisy steps as he went back upstairs, shouting to John without even caring (as always) if he bothered any neighbor or even Mrs. Hudson. John was already back to his reading, used to that kind of reactions from his flat-mate. He had learnt through time that the best approach in this kind of situation was keeping a calm attitude.
- I'm exchanging them!
- You can't! I've already used mine! – John shouted back.
Then he heard Sherlock rushing down the stairs and saw him appearing in front of him again, with a resentful look on his face. He spoke in a truly furious tone.
- What did you just say?
John stared at him astonished, finding it hard to speak again.
- I've already used… the blue one.
Sherlock leaned forward to him, grabbing the sides of the armchair, making John feel uneasy while he tried to sink into the furniture just to put a little more distance between them.
- And who gave you the right to do that?!
John was out of words, still staring at him in astonishment. It was not like Sherlock to be out of his mind just because of something like this.
Sherlock finally let go of his grab and moved apart, allowing John to breath normally. He started walking around the room instead, something clearly disturbing him.
John really doubted anything he could say would make it any better but Sherlock wasn't going to stop soon if he didn't do something about it.
- Sherlock… Sher- Sherlock…
He just kept on walking around the room, completely ignoring him and furiously mumbling at times. Watson decided to be more assertive this time. He stood up, walked next to him and suddenly jumped in front of his way to stop him.
- Come on, Sherlock! You can't keep on like this… Just tell me why you got so mad about a toothbrush.
His green eyes focused on him for a couple of seconds. After that, he simply turned his face away offended. He snorted before speaking.
- Mycr… never let me… thoothbrush.– He spoke in such a low voice that was impossible to understand him.
- What?
- … Mycroft never let me choose my toothbrush. – said Sherlock, still angry but also ashamed of what he was confessing, still not looking at Watson.
- Nah…
- What? –Sherlock faced John once more, frowning, trying to understand his response.
- You made this entire scene just because of a childhood memory?
- Oh, Shut up!
Sherlock stepped away from John and literally turned his back on him. He crossed his arms in front of his chest too. John couldn't help chuckling a bit: he seemed to be a little child pouting. He was also relieved because now he knew how to solve this minor argument.
He simply stood in front of him, stretched out his hand and stroked his hair with a sympathetic smile. It felt soft and thin. Sherlock's face showed he was a little confused but he didn't seem to be uncomfortable.
- I promise you tomorrow I'll go back to the store and text you all the toothbrush colours they have so you can choose the one you like the most.
- … Even if I want a blue one?
- Yes, Sherlock, any colour you like.
John could see Sherlock holding down a triumphant grin for a few seconds.
- Fine by me. Goodnight, John.
He turned and left to his room while muttering happily one of his violin melodies.
John smiled widely, closed his book and went to bed at last.
The next morning John woke up and went downstairs for breakfast.
There he found him, in his blue bathrobe playing at the kitchen table with his microscope and his many curious samples.
- Morning, Sherlock.
- We're out of milk – he said without leaving his work.
John sighed. He would have to go out to get some coffee for them. They always had their coffee with some milk on it and they we're not going to change that now.
However, after a quick glance at the room John saw to cups of hot coffee with milk on the marble counter. One was already half empty.
- Wait a sec-… Then how did you-?
- Mrs. Hudson brought it. – He pointed at the living room, still focusing on his microscope. – She also left the paper.
- Oh, great!
John took hold of his coffee and went right away to the living room to read the news of the day, accompanied by Sherlock's comments.
- She could have brought some biscuits.
- She doesn't have to feed us, Sherlock. We shouldn't take profit from her kindness.
- Ha! We would be doing her a favour as she has a big box full of them, more than she is able to eat.
- How could you even know that?
- I'm not blaming your mental incapacity this time; you were not here to see it. – John gave him a cranky look as Sherlock kept on talking, increasing the speed of his speech – When she came up to bring the coffee I noticed some stains on her sleeve, some kind of white powder: flour. She had a red paper sealhanging from a strip out of her pocket as well. The seal had a design of a well-known russian brand of bakery products, the same that were recently brought and promoted by the next door bakery. Plus, she had some crumbs on her dress and when I asked if she would like to eat something for breakfast with us she said "Thanks dear, but I've had enough for a month already". Do you get my logic now?
John stared at him blankly with his cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper under his other arm. He looked at the clock on one of the walls and then back at Sherlock.
- It's only half past seven in the morning and you've already left me out of words.
Sherlock allowed himself to show a superiority smile while heading back to his experiments.
Meanwhile, John sat in the cozy armchair and went through the pages of the newspaper, reading the headlines and sipping coffee. His friend looked at him furtively for a few seconds. Sherlock just couldn't understand what he liked so much about reading the paper every day. There were only bad-written descriptions of dull everyday events. But he somehow seemed to like it.
When John finished his coffee he got up, left the newspaper on the table, the cup in the sink and went to his room to change clothes. Sherlock heard him, presuming his next move.
He showed up in the kitchen wearing his red shirt, ready to go out. He waited for Sherlock attention but as he didn't get any he just started talking. He knew he was listening anyway.
- I'm going to the store.
- I'll pay attention to my phone.
John understood the message. He nodded and left the kitchen. He was ready to leave, nearly touching the door knob, when he heard Sherlock retelling him.
- Don't forget the-…
- The milk. I know.
And he was off. Leaving Sherlock alone at home, waiting for his text.
John ran into Mrs. Hudson before leaving the building. She was kind as usual. John noticed without surprise that Sherlock was right: there was the flour on her sleeve, the seal on her pocket, everything.
- Oh! Hi, dear. Are you going out?
-Ehm, yes.
- Running the errands, I suppose.
- Yes. Thank you for the breakfast, by the way.
- Oh, did you two enjoy it?
- Yes, very much. Sherlock complained, however, about not getting some of those Russian biscuits.
- But-… How did he-…?
John grinned at her. It was actually a lot of fun to watch other's reaction to Sherlock's deductive powers. Mrs. Hudson didn't seem to find it so funny, tough.
- Well, tell Sherlock when you get back that I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper!
- Will do, Mrs. Hudson. – answered John still giggling.
He walked to the store enjoying the warm and calm morning they were having. He was only a few blocks away and had plenty of time anyway.
Once there he got the milk and continued his shopping heading for the corridor where all the personal hygiene articles were kept. He searched for the toothbrush section and beheld the great variety in front of him. He took out his cellphone and sent one very long text to his friend at home with all the options he had to choose from. Then all he had to do was wait for his answer. So he stood there, between shampoos and perfumed soaps until he heard his ringtone and felt the trembling in his pants. He pulled out his cellphone and read Sherlock's text.
The black one which glows in the dark.
- SH
John kind of expected that answer. He sometimes wondered if he was starting to understand how Sherlock thought.
He went to the cash-machine thanking God that there was an employee behind it. He handed the girl some cash and left with a plastic bag half-full of products.
He walked back home, again without hurry, and went up the stairs.
The moment he entered the room, Sherlock got up from his chair and went to meet him.
- Did you bring it?
- Yes, Sherlock, of course I did.
- Then give it to me already!
- Can't you wait until I put the milk away?
- Does it seem like I can wait? – answered Sherlock with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
John just stared at him blankly and went to the kitchen to put the milk inside the fridge. Sherlock just waited for him in the living room getting more and more irritated.
- John, I'm a very busy man and you're wasting my time.
- Oh, come on! If you keep on with this attitude I'll start calling you Queen of England instead of Mycroft.
Sherlock gave him an annoyed look and Watson rolled his eyes. He searched inside the plastic bag, took out the colorful card box and handed it over to him.
- Here.
Sherlock took it from his hands in less than a second. He examined the package carefully from all angles and then he opened it, held the toothbrush in one hand and threw the package away with the other. Automatically, he started closing all the curtains in the room and turning of the lights.
- Sherlock, may I ask what the heck are you doing now?
- I want to make sure it really glows in the dark and that you weren't deceived by a false advertisement.
"Thanks for the confidence, buddy" thought John with a false smile.
Once the room was pure darkness, Sherlock went back in front of Watson and showed him the toothbrush glowing with a green alien-like glow. Watson couldn't see it but he was smiling. He was happy to see what his friend would do just to please him. John didn't mind his eccentricities. Even more, he probably liked Sherlock because of them. Right there in the dark, John was also smiling, sharing that moment of joy with him.
And suddenly he felt Sherlock's warm breath near his ear and heard him whispering.
-Thank you, John.
And he kissed him lightly on the cheek. John froze right there, unable to organize his thoughts, finding it hard to act normal.
Sherlock simply walked away and turned the room to its normal state. Then he went upstairs to leave his toothbrush in the bathroom. John tried to regain his composure and sat down, waiting for Sherlock to come back down. When he finally did, John called him before he went to continue with his experiments.
- Ehm… Sherlock… Ehm, come a second, please.
Sherlock looked at him confused but walked closer to where he was sitting anyway.
- Yes?
- Ehm… - John was starting to regret this – Why did you…do that… in the dark?
- Do what?
- You know… the kiss… why did you do that?
- Isn't that what people normally do… to express they're thankful?
- Ehm… yeah maybe… But you don't act like normal people would.
- Well, I just felt like it this time.
- Oh, ok…Fine by me.
- Can I go back to-…? – said Sherlock pointing towards the experiments in the kitchen.
- Yeah, ok. Go do that. – John smiled nervously and turned to get hold of his book.
So Sherlock continued with his experiments and John continued reading. And they didn't talk again until lunch time; which was the normal thing for them anyway.