"John, what is that?"
Dr. Watson looked up from his computer in mild surprise at his flat mate, who was peering down at a large, glass box with holes, in which sat a tiny, emerald-green creature.
John smiled at the look of bewilderment on Sherlock's face...one he did not get to see often.
"You're the genius," John grinned. "You figure it out."
"It's obviously a chameleon!" Sherlock said irritably, trying to prove that he did, in fact, know what the creature was. "But what's it doing here? Chameleons don't inhabit Britain."
"I know that," John replied coolly. "I brought him home because I actually believe you of all people could solve the mystery as to how an ordinary chameleon wound up in Great Britain."
Sherlock turned and glared at him a moment, before returning his gaze to the animal. It was clinging halfway up on of the glass walls, it's buggy eyes staring unblinkingly at him.
Sherlock knelt down so that he was at eye-level, and stared at it in curiosity, his eyes narrowing seemingly of their own accord. To his surprise, the anima's eyes narrowed as well.
He blinked very fast, his mouth open slightly, and was amazed as the chameleon copied him.
The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.
He furrowed his brow, morphing his lips into a frown, and the animal mimicked him. He stuck out his tongue, and its long, pink tongue poked out and back in.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John asked in exasperation.
Sherlock didn't answer, but rather, grinned in amusement. In response, the chameleon gave a soft chuckle at their game.
Excitedly, Sherlock stood up straight, before swiftly removing the lid to the box. He reached inside so that his hand hovered right next to the animal. Without hesitation, it hopped on his palm, before scurrying up his arm. It gave him a mischievous smile, before its skin turned the same shade of violet as his shirt.
"John, can we keep it?" Sherlock asked.
John's eyes widened.
"You serious? I thought you didn't like animals."
Sherlock smirked.
"This one's smart."
John shook his head in amazement.
"It's your choice," he said. "But you're going to be the one to take care of it." He then returned to his computer.
After a few moments however, he looked up to see both Sherlock and the chameleon pouring over a book.
"Out of curiosity," John asked, "what have you decided to call him?"
"Pascal."