**Author's Note: Hello, Hello, Hello! It's so great to be back and FINALLY be able to submit some stuff. After a long hitatus like a Phoenix THIS ClickytheClickster is finally back! Woot Woot! To start off, here is a little ficlet I created after watching BBC's FANTASITC series Sherlock! I highly suggest that you watch it if you want a good ol' mystery with a modern twist. Enough of my ranting here is my little piece of fluff story part 1. Enjoy ;) As always please comment!
Thanks,
~ClickytheClickster2.0
~Chapter 1~
While standing in his full length mirror, Dr. John Watson thought to himself nervously,"Calm yourself old boy..its just a double date, you aren't even going to be alone with the girl anyway." In his woolen maroon v-neck sweater,khaki dress pants, and brown loafers he felt more like he was headed to a private prep school instead of a night on the town with Sarah. With that thought he tilted his head in uncertainty, "Perhaps the black one would be better..." He was just about to change when his phone began to vibrate. The text from Sarah read, "We are here the restaurant near the bar-don't forget Sherlock."
After one last look in his mirror he was ready to leave, but getting Sherlock to come with him would be another double date was a design only spoken of between Sarah and himself. Despite her careful planning, they both knew keeping secrets from a detective would be a short lived challenge. Days before he kept insisting upon her the fact that Sherlock was not a relationship kind of man, and that she would be wasting her time putting in all this effort. At this explanation Sarah simply shrugged it off responding that if Sherlock was married to his work, it was about time for him to "cheat" on his current interest and try a much more realistic relationship.
One way or another that woman was going to get Sherlock on this date whether he (or John for that matter) liked it or not. At this point he concluded the only way for her to learn was the hard way.
While leaving the room he fumbled through his freshly pressed pockets , "Wallet...check, phone...check,keys...wait a tick..." He suddenly froze at the top of the stairs , "where are my flat keys?" In a borderline panic attack John rushed back around the room to search, without any luck. "Please God be downstairs..." he mumbled descending to the first floor.
John walked into the kitchen in no less of a hurry, scattering Sherlock's papers on the kitchen table in the process, "not here...damn!" he muttered under his breath. To make matters worse, outside the kitchen window he could see a cab pulling up to the curb of Baker Street awaiting his departure . Suddenly, he heard a noise interrupt him from his frantic search. From the living room he could make out what sounded like a small mouse gnawing at something, and turning around to his horror saw not a mouse, but his flatmate Sherlock lazily reclined on the couch carving away at a small hole in the wall. Behind the sofa he noticed small chunks of plaster float down like snow onto the floor.
Awe struck, he stomped into the living room, "Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?" While continuing his in-home mining excavation Sherlock nonchalantly responded in a yawn, barely wavered by his friend's reddened face, "board...Is that all you ask me every time I'm in this room? What I'm doing? Do I ever ask what you are doing in your little corner chair?...no. Sometimes I think-"
"The hole Sherlock!" John responded having none of it.
"oh this? This isn't a hole,I felt like the room needed more built in storage space. I'm making one myself, don't worry though I'm almost done for the day." he causally responded.
Upon closer inspection he noticed Sherlock was using something metallic and shiny to chip away at the plaster. "oh..my...God...Sherlock are those my FLAT KEYS you are using?"
At this realization he collapsed into a nearby chair. Now convinced that instead of a girlfriend this man would need a babysitter.
Sensing the source of his frazzled nerves, Sherlock sat up on the couch twirling the key ring around his finger, "Calm down John, these are my keys I'm using, if you are looking for your keys they are over there on the mantle." He promptly pointed to the fireplace where John's keys were indeed laying in plain sight next to the skull. "And that is supposed to make me feel better how?" he added.
Sherlock thought for a moment, "Hmmm...at least now you won't be late for your play date with your little friend Sarah. And lemme guess...a movie after? Probably some kind of sappy comedy that only she would enjoy, just to put you in her good graces."
"Since when did you know I was going out with Sarah? " John responded with curiosity. "Its not very hard to tell...out of curiosity did you have to mug a prep school student to get that sweater? The only girl I know who would approve of you wearing that hideous color is Sarah, either that or you are headed to a gay bar."
With that remark John rolled his eyes, now certain he should have worn the black sweater instead. Getting up from his seat to grab his keys from the mantle he said, "I'm taking a taxi, didn't you say that you were going to the office later this evening for some work in the lab?"
"Don't worry about me." Sherlock responded while returning to his wall digging. Remembering the taxi, John's eyes suddenly flashed with an idea, "well, why don't we just take the same taxi? You can drop me off at the restaurant. Think of all time you would save by hitting two birds with one stone."
Sherlock turned back around to face him, narrowing his eyes in consideration. Suddenly with newfound energy he lept up from the couch putting on his shoes, coat, and scarf, "brilliant idea John!" he responded happily opening the front door for him, "I needed to get to the office early anyway." While walking down the steps to the taxi he was surprised how easily Sherlock was able to be convinced, almost too easily. As soon as the two of them were in the taxi, John took out his phone and texted Sarah back hesitantly responding, "On my way now-with Sherlock."
