Radio Four

By Any Unborn Child

Sherlock was bored.

As a result, John was annoyed.

The day started off as a normal Sunday afternoon on Baker Street. Well, Sunday would be normal if not for Sherlock, who was being abysmally annoying. For the past two hours, he had done nothing but putter around the flat, look at things dismissively, and then return to the couch in the den.

It didn't help that the two hadn't had a case in some time – what was it, two weeks now? One week? Did it matter?

To try to curb the boredom, John had tried the radio. Radio Four, to be precise.

"This is dull," Sherlock remarked as he tossed a pen in the air. "What else is on now?"

"I don't know." John replied, pouring over old emails. "Must be something. What, you don't enjoy what's on right now?"

"I just said that it was boring. I don't enjoy it in the slightest."

"All right, all right." John moved his cursor to the radio schedule on the BBC website. After looking for a couple moments, he said, "We could try this show."

"What, the one about Arabia that has been played many times before and will most likely be played many times again?"

"Yes, that one."

"No."

John shook his head, exasperated. "What will you listen to, Sherlock?"

"Anything that does not have lyrics. They're distracting."

"All right then. No lyrics…no lyrics…We could try this one."

"…Which program is this?"

"The Archers."

"Good God No."

"What've you got against 'The Archers'? It's a classic soap opera."

"Oh, nothing. Well, except for the fact that they've had the same premise for each serial for over fifty years and have not stopped churning them out ad nauseum."

"How can they be churning out the same stories when their serials take place on the day?"

"When there's nothing keeping my mind occupied, days are boring. Predictable. Dull. And the cliffhangers are pure drivel at best."

"Even the one about Grace Archer?"

"Especially the one about Grace Archer."

"Ah. Of course."

"The next thing you know, they're going to have a bloody serial about badgers of all things. "

"I think they already did."

"Good Lord."

"You're just saying that because we haven't had a case in a week."

"It's been two weeks."

"I'm pretty sure it's been just one."

"And a bloody boring week this has been."

"I understand.

"I thought you might."

"…So what you don't like is predictability."

"You don't blame me now, do you?"

"No. Why would I? It's just your personal taste. We don't have to like the same things."

"No. No we don't. I believe that's already been well established."

"Yes. Of course it has."

"Quite."

At this point, John and Sherlock were silently fuming, eyes averted away at temporary distractions. There was a long pause between what was said and what would be said. Oddly enough, they were both used to these lulls in conversation.

The chatter of 'The Archers' brought Sherlock to finally say, "You haven't changed the program."

John responded, "Of course I haven't. This is all that's playing right now."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Joy."

John, not looking up from his laptop, said, "Once there's a case, you'll feel better. And so will I."

Sherlock couldn't help the amusement that bubbled in his voice. "I wouldn't have it any other way."