A/N: Just a little something that popped into my head today. Never done a 221b, or any other word-count-constrained format, before. Had to cut a lot!
I should have time to work on my chaptered fics this weekend, so hopefully they will both be updated early next week. I also have a rather long one-shot that's nearly done.
He definitely was going to take that pill.
The cabbie's game was obvious: both pills poisonous, the man had already ingested an antidote. He'd have a few symptoms that hopefully Sherlock could witness before he died.
But proving himself right was only a small part of his reasoning, for once. The cabbie was right about life. It was boring. And not just the times between the cases, when life was utterly, mind-shatteringly boring. Even during a case, there was so rarely a true surprise. Sherlock really hadn't had any new experiences of any sort in years, despite his best efforts. Human behavior was simply too predictable. He didn't believe in an afterlife, obviously, but at that moment he'd hoped desperately that the universe would surprise him.
And it did.
Seeing the cabbie shot in front of him? A surprise.
And now, sitting here, watching his deductions coalesce around one John Watson? Also a bit of a surprise.
Time to reassess with new data:
- John killed a man to save Sherlock's life barely a day after meeting him.
- This isn't even the first time in that day that John has displayed such loyalty.
- Sherlock is now laughing with another person (namely John), something that's happened more times in the past day than the previous decade.
Conclusion:
- Life is no longer fundamentally boring.
