Sherlock Holmes:
The Yellow Faces
"What are you looking at?" Sherlock sneered. The unwavering face with unblinking eyes smiled back at him from the wall as he paced. He was bored. He was beyond bored. He was agitated and bored.
Sherlock Holmes had not seen a whisker of John Watson in over two days. Two days, four hours and thirty-six minutes to be exact. It was ridiculous. Ludicrous. How bloody long could it possibly take to baby-proof a one-bedroom flat? Round the edges, put away knives and potential fire hazards, gate the stairwell. Done and done. He'd have had it finished in under an hour. Well, at John and Mary's flat anyway. His flat would take considerably longer, but since he wasn't planning on having any babies about, save when John and Mary brought their squalling, soggy bundle of joy over to visit, the point was moot.
Sherlock paced the room again, cursing Mary and her damned fertility. She had had John all to herself for days and seemed to be in no hurry to give him up to, as she so cleverly put it, "play 'Miss Marple' with Sherlock."
Sherlock turned back to the face he had spray painted on the wall. "Yellow," he cringed. "Of all the colors in the spectrum, why'd it have to be yellow?"
"I don't know why you painted it on there at all, Sherlock Holmes," Mrs. Hudson scolded.
"Ah, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock sighed as she set the tray with tea service on the small table near his chair. "I was bored. Like I am now." He turned back to study the wall. "Perhaps I'll make him a companion. Not yellow though."
"You'll do no such thing, Sherlock. You've defaced my walls enough. Now, come and get your tea."
Sherlock turned, somewhat sulkily, his dressing gown swirling up behind him, and plopped down into his chair. He accepted his tea from Mrs. Hudson and silently prayed that she wouldn't try to engage him in conversation. As usual, his prayers went unanswered.
"It's exciting about John and Mary, isn't it?" she asked with a wide smile. "They've been doing all the little last minute things to get ready. It shouldn't be long now."
"Shouldn't be long?" Sherlock asked, confused.
"It shouldn't be long until the baby comes, silly," Mrs. Hudson laughed.
Sherlock groaned. "Don't you have something to dust? Not here, of course. Somewhere, anywhere else?"
"Oh Sherlock, I'm only trying to keep you company. I know you're missing John."
"I am not," Sherlock argued a bit too forcefully. He jumped up from his chair and went back to pacing, loudly slurping his tea as he did. "I'm just bored. I need something. I need a case! I need-" He was interrupted by a knock at the door. "A client!" he cried with a jubilant smile.
Mrs. Hudson got up from her seat and went to the door. "I'll let them in and myself out," she said. Sherlock barely acknowledged the remark with a nod and instead stood on tip-toe (as if he needed to) to see who was at the door.
"Oh hello, Molly!" Mrs. Hudson cried. Sherlock was pretty sure he groaned out loud as Mrs. Hudson began gushing to the pathologist. "It's so good to see you, dear. I was just going, but I'm glad you're here. Sherlock is in a state without John. Perhaps you can cheer him up." She was still chattering as she bustled down the stairs.
Sherlock didn't hear Molly's reply as he let out a long sigh and flopped down on the sofa and turned his face toward the wall. The room was very silent for a long moment before he heard Molly knock softly on the table.
"May I come in?" she asked.
Sherlock just shrugged and she must have taken that for a yes because she crossed to the center of the room and stood there fidgeting like a caffeinated mouse. After a few minutes had passed and it became apparent that Molly Hooper was not leaving, Sherlock turned to look at her.
"Was there something you wanted?" he asked with a sarcastic edge to his voice.
Molly started, caught off guard by his question. "Oh…I.." she stammered. "I just came 'round to check on you. See how you're getting on."
"I'm getting on fine," Sherlock replied, turning back to face the wall again. "Thanks for asking, but in the future a text would do, wouldn't it?"
He could picture Molly's big brown eyes drooping sadly at his harsh words, but he wasn't going to take them back. Molly should know enough about him by now to know that he wasn't one to sob and gush about how sad and lonely he felt. Not that he did. Because he certainly didn't.
"Right. Fine then. I'll just be going," Molly said dejectedly. Sherlock didn't answer, but peeked up at her a bit as she went to the door. Just as her hand reached for the knob, the door swung open and Mrs. Hudson appeared with a distraught-looking woman beside her. Sherlock sat up and studied the woman for a few seconds, coming to a quick conclusion about who she was and why she was there.
"Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said, "This dear lady here has a case for you." She ushered the woman in and sat her down. "Now you just tell Sherlock what's going on and I'm sure he'd be delighted to help you out. Won't you, Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson cooed.
"Delighted," Sherlock answered through clenched teeth before leaving the sofa and seating himself in his chair.
"Should I just go then?" asked Molly.
"No. No, you stay. I need a John. Sit down."
Molly glanced nervously at the woman and gave her as shy smile as she sat down on the coffee table. "I'm Molly, what's your name?"
"Jackie Munroe," answered Sherlock. The woman jumped to her feet in surprise.
"How? How did you know my name?" she asked.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's on the name tag clipped to your sleeve, you-" He started to run down the laundry list of insults, but a sharp look from Molly told him it probably wasn't the best thing.
"Fine, Mrs. Munroe," Sherlock sighed. "Tell me about your husband."
"How did you know I was here about my husband?" Mrs. Munroe questioned.
"Because that's why all wives come to me. They want to know if their husbands are cheating and ninety-six percent of the time, they are. If you have suspected it, Mrs. Munroe, it's more than likely the case, so spare yourself and me the trouble and go on home but only after you've stopped off to talk to your attorney." Sherlock said all this in rapid succession without so much as a pause for breath and the two women looked at him and then at each other and then back at him with open mouths and wide eyes.
"Sherlock…" Molly began.
"Oh Molly, please," spat Sherlock. "Don't lecture me on love. You're hardly an expert."
The room was completely silent for several minutes. Sherlock wasn't sure if the women were stunned dumb or if he'd simply lost his sense of hearing. Either way, the silence was nice. Unfortunately, the pleasant quiet was broken by Molly clearing her throat.
"Expert or not," she quietly countered. "You should hear this woman's case."
"Even better idea," Sherlock said with a devilish smile. "Why don't you hear her case, Molly Hooper. Go on, hear her out. Take notes. When you're done you can tell me that I was right and that it's a simple case of infidelity. Like always. Till then, I'm taking a nap."
With that, he hopped up from his chair and moved to stretch out on the sofa. Molly sighed and shook her head.
"Now, Mrs. Munroe," Molly began.
"Please, call me Jackie," said Mrs. Munroe.
"Jackie, tell me about your husband."
Jackie sat back in her chair and began telling Molly all she could think of about her husband, Alfie. She had met him at a party seven years prior, had a short engagement, and had married less than six months later. He was a good man, a hard worker. He was one of the higher-ups of a large computer company which provided them with a good living. They had two dogs, five cats and a hamster named Schroeder, but no children.
"Alfie always wanted children, but I didn't," Jackie told her. "I'm a lab tech for Q-Global and I've always been very committed to my career. Having children would have meant giving that up, at least in part. I couldn't do it. I think it bothered Alfie, but he went along with it."
Sherlock mumbled what sounded like "boring" to the wall. Molly ignored him and continued questioning Jackie.
"So, what changed between the two of you?" she asked.
Jackie took a deep breath before answering. "About three weeks ago, Alfie got a phone call late at night. I could tell he was upset when he hung up, but he wouldn't talk about it. I pleaded with him to confide in me, but he wouldn't. We've never kept secrets from each other before."
"Hmph!" grumbled the consulting detective.
"Sherlock," Molly warned.
"Sorry, not listening," he threw back.
Molly turned back to Jackie. "What happened besides the phone call?" she inquired.
"Alfie's behavior changed," Jackie told her. "He started disappearing for hours at a time, taking his phone to another room when he got a call…"
Sherlock sneezed, but rather than "ah-choo" it sounded like "affair." Molly glared angrily at the back of his head.
"I'm right," he said without turning around. "You'll see. And stop glaring at me."
Molly frowned and tapped her pencil on the table. "Anything else, Jackie?"
"Yes," Jackie answered nervously. "The other day there was this." She pulled out her mobile and pushed some buttons and then turned it for Molly to see. Molly's eyes grew wide and she looked at the picture on the screen and then at the wall above Sherlock's head.
"Um, Sherlock," she called to him. "You may want to take a look at this."
He didn't turn around but stuck out his hand behind him and took the phone. He looked at it briefly before jumping up from the sofa.
"Where was this taken?" he demanded to know.
"In my kitchen," Jackie replied.
"Hmm… Mrs. Munroe, I'll take the case," he announced with a wild gleam in his eyes. He glanced back down at the mobile phone where a yellow spray-painted smiley face, nearly identical to the one on his wall, smiled back at him.
A/N:
My first Sherlock fic! Yay! I am VERY new to the fandom. I watched the entire series for the first time just last week and I am thoroughly hooked. I knew I wanted to write something, and while looking through Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's original Sherlock Holmes stories, I was struck with inspiration. I'll try to update this one at a quick pace. It's all plotted out in my head. I just have to write it out.
Please comment and review and tell me what you like/dislike. I'm a Sherlock virgin and could do with your input about characterizations and such. Thanks in advance!