SHERLOCK: TO THE MARKET
I don't own the show Sherlock. This story was just written for entertainment purposes. This is a short story. There are only two chapters.
As a sat typing away on my computer, I noticed Sherlock rifling through the fridge. He looked as if he was looking for something to eat. "I'm not going to the market," I thought. "He can do that himself." Then, as if Sherlock had just read my mind, he walked over toward me.
"John." He said staring down at me.
"What," I said avoiding eye contact.
"We're out of food and I need some more supplies."
"And you're telling me this because-"
"Oh for heaven's sake, just go to the market."
I shut my laptop.
"And why on Earth can't you do that," I said as I watched him pick up his violin.
"I'm busy," He said as he began strumming it.
"When was the last time you actually left this room?"
Sherlock placed the violin up to his chin.
"John, I don't believe I really need to tell you every time I have a bowel movement."
I rolled my eyes and stood up from my chair.
"Okay, so what you left to go to the loo. Right. So, why can't you just go the market, then?"
"I told you…I'm busy," He said as he began playing.
"Yes, I can see that."
I sat my laptop down, and grabbed my coat. It was a bit chilly today. Before I headed out the door, I thought of the perfect solution to get Sherlock to go to the market. Reverse psychology. I wasn't sure it would work on Sherlock. However, I really didn't want to go. He always made me go. This plan had to work. I then put my coat down and sat back down. Sherlock seemed to ignore me as he continued playing on his violin. With his back turned, he then spun around to face me.
"Oh. Have a nice trip?"
"I haven't left yet."
"Really? It seemed so…quiet."
My patience began to wear thin. So, I put my plan into action.
"I know why you don't want to go the market."
He ignored me.
"You don't really know how it operates do you?"
He still ignored me.
"You probably haven't been to a market in five years. The great Sherlock Holmes is afraid of a little grocery shopping."
The violin playing stopped. I knew I got him.
"I'm not afraid of anything. While fear is wisdom is the face of danger, I'm not afraid of a something as dull as a market."
"Then, prove it."
Once I said this, I knew I had Sherlock in my grasp.
"You're trying to trick me."
"What," I had been found out.
"You think pulling a little reverse psychology is going to win in your favor."
"Is it working?"
Sherlock put his violin down and grabbed his coat.
"Where are you going," I said with a laugh.
"When you want something done right around here, you've got to do it yourself," He said adding a scarf around his neck.
As I watched Sherlock leave, I couldn't help but laugh. The thought of the things he was going to face in the market might be more difficult for him than solving murder cases.
