SHERLOCK'S BIRTHDAY
Watching him I feel so insignificant. Case after case, watching that magnificent mind of his work thought a complex problem within seconds. So many criminals get to be a part of his thoughts, so many strangers entering his mind palace. Yet his flat mate of 8 months never gets a second glance.
"Sorry, who are you again" Sally say's interrupting my thoughts.
"You know… John Watson…. You remember me…"
"Sorry we don't let citizens into crime scenes" She mummers after letting an especially toll friend of mine under the cushion tape.
"I'm his flat mate… oh for god's sake just let me though" once I'm finally though, I wish I never came. But at the same time a rush goes though me that haven't happened in a while. I stare at the mass, thinking of what could have possibly done something like this. All the while Sherlock has already come to a conclusion.
"This wasn't a murder at all, well mostly not one, this is just a bystander that got caught in the crossfire. Judging by the shoe trade over there and the trash bag lying against the wall, he was just tacking out the trash late at night in his slippers when he heard gun fire and ran for cover only to accidently run straight into a bullet. The criminals by now have shot the person they were trying to and have two dead bodies on their hands, one which they need to bring to their boss and another, a random fellow they never met. They must have a small car to for they could have put him in there trunk, also they must have been in quit a hurry for they didn't have enough time to toss him some conspicuous place, and did only a half job of melting him with hydrochloric acid and tossed the remains in this corner by the drain hoping no one would notice."
"Wait, wait, wait how do you know there are two people dead"
"Well I don't know Anderson, possibly it's the strikingly red hair among all the brown that must have gotten cut on accident when they were cutting this lad, or the fact that there was gun fire in the first place. You'll find heading north east in a Toyota iQ" ….
"GO NOW" Lestrade shouts to his men after a few seconds of silence. Sherlock already gone, I start heading to the flat.
The next day was odd. I went down to breakfast, (Sherlock already finished his or just not eating, hard to tell which) ate, grabbed a newspaper scanning for any new crimes, when I noticed Sherlock staring at me. He stared at me for a full five minutes, seaming to grow sadder and more frustrated as he did so. Though out the day this happened, as if he was expecting something. Finally I asked what was wrong, and he looked at me as if he couldn't fathom what I was talking about. After a few more minutes he said abruptly
"I'm 36" and then went to his room before I could think of a response of any kind. Starring after him, I went down the stairs to Mrs. Hutson calling to Sherlock that I'd be back soon.
"What's wrong with Sherlock?"
"Don't you know it's his birthday?"
"Oh" was my startled response. On a whim, I ran down to the nearest store to pick up some cake, also getting one of those earmuff hats knowing how much they bugged him. I got back just before two and called to Sherlock, hiding the cake behind my back. He came down after one more high pitched cord on his violin, I can tell he has been sulking.
"Happy birthday Sherlock" I say as he reaches me. He looks at me startled, then he dives bombs me and were kissing, the cake clatters to the ground forgotten. I don't know how or why we're kissing but we are. His hands start pressing against my neck, curling in my hair, and all I can think is It's the happiest I've been since he said I should come with him when he was investigating.
"I love you" he whispers and I know I will never feel insignificant or alone again, because I have the most magnificent of all people as a friend, and more.