"What are you getting so upset about? Stop being so dramatic, John!" Sherlock spat annoyingly at John, his curls bouncing as his voice rose in argument.
"Dramatic!?" John thundered back, furry filling him. "I could get any number of blood borne pathogens from that!" He pointed to the offending tea pot on the table.
"I told you, didn't I? I told you it had had human blood in it did I not!?" Sherlock argued, pointing to the tea pot.
"Yeah! After I had drunk two cups of tea out of it!" John said, white hot furry flooding through him. It was typical Sherlock to think only of himself and nobody around him.
"Honestly, John, I put bleach in it after I used it" Sherlock said, rolling his eyes as if John was being ridiculous.
"Did you even rinse it out?" John blared back. "You told me that stuff at the bottom was water!"
"It was just a little bit!" Sherlock thundered.
"I could die, Sherlock! What the hell are you thinking?" John asked desperately. His stomach was churning…..he was going to be sick.
"Oh, honestly, John…stop being ridiculous!" Sherlock yelled, anger flashing in his eyes.
Their argument was interrupted by a loud banging noise on the floor of their kitchen; Mrs. Hudson, it appeared, was not in favor of their loud arguing at 7am in the morning. Well, that made two of them.
John breathed deeply in an effort to calm himself. "Sherlock, when you use something for one of your experiments it can no longer be used for food…..tell me before I use it, not after!"
"I can't be expected to keep you up to date on all of the details of my experiments" Sherlock said haughtily. "Maybe if you were little quicker, you could keep up!"
That was it. "Keep up! Why the bloody hell would I want to keep up with a psychopath like you!?" John asked as loudly as he could. There was another thumping on the floor and kitchen and John sighed. There was absolutely no point in arguing with Sherlock when he got this way. He liked the arguments, like to make John angry. He was just like an overgrown, spoiled child asking for attention.
John turned and left Sherlock in the kitchen to argue with himself. He went into the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as it would go and stood underneath the furious flow trying to calm down.
Things were getting heated and explosive in 221B. It had been three weeks since Sherlock had had a case and he was not handling the situation well. He never handled long periods of boredom well but this time was even worse normal. John would have been bored himself if Sherlock had not been driving him up the wall with everything he said and did. He seemed to be purposely doing things to make John mad. Like 'experimenting' on John's phone until it had exploded and calling him a 'stupid git' when he didn't understand why Sherlock would have put the phone in an open flame. John wasn't sure what was going to happened first; Sherlock was going to catch himself on fire or John was going to murder him with his bare hands. They both desperately needed a case. Now.
John stayed in the shower until the water grew cold. He could hear banging coming from the kitchen and he dreaded what he might find in there after leaving Sherlock unattended for so long. Honestly, he was surprised that Sherlock hadn't taken the bathroom door off the hinge while he'd been showering….again.
John dressed and left the bathroom, nearly stumbling into a pile of Sherlock's dirty laundry. "Sherlock! What are your clothes doing in the floor?" John asked irritability.
"Laundry…Mrs. Hudson" Sherlock called out just as annoyed from the kitchen.
John heaved a sigh. "Just because Mrs. Hudson does our laundry, which we are lucky she does, doesn't mean she's going to come pick it up. You have to at least take it down to the washing machine!"
"Dull" was Sherlock's only response.
John fumed; Sherlock's egocentrism and laziness knew no bounds. Annoyed, but knowing he didn't want another argument with Sherlock, John leaned down and gathered the laundry up. He carried it down to the washing machine, giving Sherlock a dark look as he passed him blowing up fruit in the kitchen. John was stuffing Sherlock's clothes into the machine, wondering how his bloody life had taken a turn to this, when something fell out of one of Sherlock's pockets and hit the ground. John looked down at the ground for the lost item, confusion filling him when he saw it. It was a white baby dummy with yellow and black bees on it. John scooped the item up, concern filling him.
John walked back up to the flat, barging into the kitchen where Sherlock currently shoving the microwave full of oranges…..no doubt to blow them up. This was going to be a long day.
"What is this?" John asked, waving the dummy around. Sherlock turned around from his experiment and to face John.
"Oh what do you want n-" Sherlock started in an annoyed tone. When he saw the outstretched item, concern flashed on his eyes behind his goggles before he composed himself.
"That's a dummy, obviously" he said offhandedly.
"Yeah, actually I do know that much" John said. "What was it doing in your clothes?"
Sherlock's eyes traveled from side to side as he paused, obviously looking for an excuse. "That's…..for an experiment" Sherlock said, coughing a bit as if he was uncomfortable. He snatched the dummy from John and stuffed it into his dressing gown pocket.
John's concern increased. "Sherlock…..you're not experimenting on kids or anything like that?" he asked as calmly as he could. He hoped Sherlock hadn't become so bored he was that desperate…..
"No!" Sherlock said, angrily, turning back to stuff the oranges in the microwave. He set the machine for the highest setting possible and stared into it, trying to ignore John.
"So….what was the experiment if it has nothing to do with kids?" John asked, wanting desperately to know what Sherlock was doing with a dummy.
Sherlock's temper had had enough though. "Just drop it!" Sherlock said, whipping around and staring at John with malice in his eyes. "You wouldn't even understand anyway because you're such an idiot!"
John fumed at Sherlock. "Fine…..whatever!" he said, having lost all ability to be around the detective any longer. "I don't have to stand here and take this all day! I'm going out" He turned and left Sherlock in the kitchen as he grabbed his coat. As he stormed out of the flat he could distantly hear the sound of an explosion behind him.
….
John found that a morning out and about, away from Sherlock, was just what he needed to calm down. He'd simply spent too much time with him lately and they both probably needed a break. He was sure that the flat would be a disaster by the time he returned but he didn't worry about it. He went to a café and drank some coffee while he read the paper (completely in peace) before taking a walk through the park, relishing the complete silence of it all. He returned to 221B and had lunch with Mrs. Hudson, surprised to not hear any loud noises coming from above them. Perhaps Sherlock was taking some quiet time as well…not likely but John was hopeful.
After lunch, John returned to the flat with a renewed energy to deal with Sherlock once more, his nerves relaxed and his blood pressure down. He was surprised, but pleasantly so, by the silence of the flat when he entered it. He glanced into the kitchen to see the microwave still wide open, bits of oranges spilling out of it, the whole room smelling of the various fruit splattered around it. Sherlock hadn't cleaned up his mess, but that wasn't surprising. Right now, he appeared to be quietly in his room and John was not going to complain. It was so quiet, maybe he was taking a nap; the big baby needed it, after all.
John sat down on the couch and turned the telly on, flipping through the channels. John had made it completely through one program and was half way through another completely uninterrupted when there was a knock at the door. John walked to the door and opened it, finding a nervous looking skinny young man at the door. "I'm looking for Sherlock Holmes" he said uncertainly.
John didn't relish the idea of disturbing Sherlock when he was being so quiet by himself but if this client could give them a case then he would take the chance. "Alight, sure" John said, "I'm John Watson, come on in and I'll go get him. Have a seat right over here" he said ushering him toward the chair while he walked to Sherlock's room.
"Sherlock…you've got a client" John said as he knocked on Sherlock's door. There was no answer so he knocked harder. There still wasn't a response.
"Sherlock! Client!" John said much louder as he knocked. Still no response. Annoyed that Sherlock was probably ignoring him, he tried the doorknob, happy to find it unlocked.
John had seen many surprising things from Sherlock and so he though there was nothing that Sherlock could do that would surprise him. He found, however, that the sight in front of him now proved him wrong on that point.
Sherlock was lying on his bed, fast asleep on top of the covers in nothing but a t-shirt and pants. The bee covered dummy from earlier was stuffed in his mouth, his hand curled around a tattered, fluffy pastel green blanket that was under his head.
What the hell…..was the first thought that came to John's head. He rubbed his eyes, sure that he wasn't really seeing Sherlock Holmes asleep sucking a dummy. But no matter how many times he looked away and looked back at Sherlock, the image didn't change. What was wrong with him? This was a little bit twisted….a little sick…..maybe more than a little messed up depending on why he was doing this which John had absolutely no explanation for. Why would a grown man be sleeping with a blankie and sucking a dummy? And not just any man, Sherlock Holmes of all people!?
John did not relish the idea of waking Sherlock up. He was no doubt to be embarrassed and angry that John had come in his room unasked but he would be furious if he knew that John asked a client to leave when they had been so lacking in cases. But John was frozen, his mind trying to figure out why Sherlock was doing this.
"Mr. Watson?"
John heard the voice of their client calling from the sitting room, rousing him from his errant thoughts. "Coming….one moment!" John called down. He looked back at Sherlock and cringed. Well….here goes nothing.
John gave Sherlock a firm shake on the shoulder until his eyes fluttered open. Sherlock's eyes opened drowsily and came to rest on John. His eyes grew wide and panicked as he looked up at his flat mate, taking the dummy out and stuffing it under the pillow in record speed. But it was too late and Sherlock knew it.
"John! What is wrong with you!?" Sherlock burst out angrily, covering his underwear covered lower half with his comforter. "Don't you ever knock!"
Yeah, Sherlock was really the one to talk about knocking….. "I did knock and you didn't answer" John said, his own face radiating red from the second hand embarrassment on Sherlock's face. He looked absolutely mortified.
"What is so important that you had to come in here and wake me up?" Sherlock asked, panic just under the surface of his emotions.
"There's a client…..in the living room….knew you'd want to know" John said, averting his eyes from Sherlock's. The awkwardness was so thick in the room that he could hardly stand it.
"Oh…..um…..I'll be there in a second…" Sherlock said, his face simultaneously burning red and deathly pale. John actually felt sorry for him.
"Uh…..yeah….." John said awkwardly before turning and leaving Sherlock. He walked back down to the sitting room, hoping his face didn't show his mortifying embarrassment on the part of Sherlock. He sat down in his chair and gave the client a forced smile. "Sherlock will be down in a moment" he said. Silence drug on as John waited for Sherlock to return, the sound of the ticking clock seeming to be very loud in the flat. John was sweating bullets, his confused mind struggling with the image that he had seen, when finally Sherlock emerged from his room, dressed in his usual impeccable suit. There was nothing there to suggest he had looked like a baby moments ago. Sherlock sat down in his chair, his eyes purposely avoiding John's.
"Hello…..Sherlock Holmes, and you are?" Sherlock asked the client, more cheerfully than he normally would have.
"Allen Hayden" the man said shakily.
"What is the problem, Mr. Hayden?" Sherlock asked, his eyes sweeping over the man, no doubt already making deductions.
"Well, it's my girlfriend…she's disappeared" Allen said, wrenching his hands together. "No one has seen her for four days. I reported it to the police but they didn't do much…..they said that they're doing all they can but they haven't found her and I'm really worried."
Sherlock tilted his head as he looked at Allen. "Tell me, Mr. Hayden…..did your girlfriend's boss also disappeared when she went missing?"
"Uh…..I don't know, why?" Allen asked, taken aback.
"Because she's having an affair with him, probably has been for upwards of three months." Sherlock said in his callous way. "Most likely she ran away with him"
Allen paled. "w-what?" he asked, tears evident in his eyes. "But…..she couldn't have. She didn't take any of her things with her. And she was NOT having an affair"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Her boss was a millionaire she would hardly need to take anything with her" he said impatiently.
The man looked on the verge of tears. "She was not having an affair…..we are in love" he said sadly.
"Yes, you are" Sherlock said. "In love with different people. Honestly Mr. Hayden, did you think you could keep her happy? She wanted someone with money and influence…..besides, you could hardly satisfy her with your rampant erectile dysfunction"
"Sherlock!" John admonished, watching Allen dissolve into tears. Sherlock ignored him, still not meeting his eyes.
"So sorry for you terrible relationship skills, Mr. Hayden, but that is your case. Please see your way out" Sherlock said, giving Allen a wave of the hand. The man ran out of the flat, tears running down his face.
"Sherlock….do you have to be so mean?" John asked as he watched the man leave.
Sherlock looked uneasy now that he and John were the only ones left in the room. He still didn't look at John. "I'm not going to waste my time….he shouldn't waste his either on that woman. I was doing him a favor" Sherlock pushed up from his chair and attempted to retreat to his room.
John stood up and walked after him. "Sherlock….wait" he said. To his surprise, Sherlock stopped and turned around.
"What?" He asked, his eyes looking anywhere but John's eyes.
"Sherlock…..can we…..talk?" John asked tentatively. "About….what I just saw?"
Sherlock paled but managed to keep a straight face. "No" he said shortly before turning to leave.
"Sherlock…..are you alright?" John asked. He had absolutely no idea why Sherlock would do that but he was beginning to suspect that something wasn't right with him.
Sherlock didn't turn around. "I'm fine, John" he said, running up the stairs.
"But Sherlock…..you were sucking on a dummy-"John started. He was surprised when Sherlock turned around, his face full of anger and hurt and embarrassment.
"I said I'm fine" he said, his voice trembling slightly, suggesting that he was anything but fine. "Drop it, John"
"But Sherlock….." John said, worry beginning to fill him. When he had first seen Sherlock he thought maybe he was a little twisted but now he was simply worried that Sherlock might not be alright emotionally.
"I said DROP IT!" Sherlock thundered in the loudest voice that John had ever heard him use. He walked the rest of the way to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.