This story is based on a true conversation I had with a friend over MSN. None of the dialogues have been changed from that convo.
Enjoy! 8D
...
It had been an exciting afternoon which it usually turned out to be when Sherlock was on a case. This particular one had involved a man whom had hidden a stolen diamond inside a goose and then lost it only to end up in the arms of a man who had the unfortunate accident of getting in the way.
In the end, it had turned into something of a goose chase.
Sherlock as always, was successful and at the end of the day he turned in the man and the diamond to Detective-Inspector Lestrad while John on the other hand had had the utmost honour of catching and holding onto the goose.
As someone would suspect, John was in the least of moods on their way back home to Bakerstreet and he did not quiet listen to when Sherlock went on about the obvious factors about catching goose's that John presumably had missed.
All John wanted and needed right now was a long hot shower and a nice cup of tea before he went to bed. After all, he had work that needed to be done in the morning.
When they entered their apartment Sherlock took of his coat and simply threw it over the nearest chair and then slumped down on the couch and rubbed his eyes before he took up a near lying book and began to skim through it.
John watched and sighed as he looked around the living room. When was the last time they had cleaned? Books everywhere and non of them where Johns... Old cups of tea and some of them where Johns... He had to admit that he couldn't blame Sherlock for all of the untidyness, but John at least had the decency to clean up where he ate.
Which is when he turned the corner into the kitchen. His eyes and mouth first went wide before his face squinted in agony as he sighed and tried to stay calm.
The kitchen looked like there had been an explosion, a really big one, and he wasn't even sure that that was just an expression when it came to all the experiments Sherlock did there, some of them did go wrong sometimes...
There was paper all over the tables and on the walls. Cups full of old tea where stacked over each other and John didn't even want to touch the counter for he saw that it was no longer silver, but a more brownish green sort of shade.
He could count no less then 6 Chinese food containers lying around with a spot of noodles drenching what he thought to once be a dishing towel.
John closed his eyes and counted to 10 not wanting to see more of the disaster. And having his evening tea before bed was out of the question.
After a few minutes of breathing and deciding what to do he slowly turned out of the kitchen to hang up his jacket by the door.
' Sherlock' He said as he turned to walk over to his usual armchair by the fire that was not lit.
'Yes, John?' Sherlock mumbled without taking his eyes from the book.
'Tomorrow we are cleaning the kitchen.' He said with finality.
There was a pause.
'We?' Sherlock finally wondered.
'Yes! WE! We are going to CLEAN the kitchen tomorrow!' He said a bit harsher now.
He was getting sick of the way Sherlock always slithered out of house shores and he was tired, he had been chasing a bloody goose and now he was unable to make his tea. The nice John was no more.
'Is there something that your brilliant mind can't understand about that?'
Sherlock finaly looked up from his book to look at his room-mate whom had spoken with such anger. He had not heard him this upset since he had come home without the groceries after having a said rowel with a shopping assistant.
Sherlock frowned.
'But why clean something you know is going to get the same way in just a matter of days?'
' Because it will be even worse then! I'd rather have it clean for a few hours then non at all. Understand me!' John said through gritted teeth.
'Well, that is your point of view, not mine. Why bring me into this?' Sherlock looked confused but still had the little frown on. Why was John so upset?
'Because you're part of this mess, Sherlock!' John said has his voice heightened in both tone and volume.
'Can't you just clean up your part and leave my experiments out of it?' Sherlock offered, he did not want to move his experiments now, he knew precisely where they where and did not want to loose his data.
'NO! Can't you, just for once, do something for someone else?' John had started pleading.
That hit a spot. Sherlock turned back to his book.
'If deducing crime to help people isn't doing something for someone, then I don't know what is.'
John went silent for a few seconds as he moulded it over.
'... I didn't mean it like that...' He sighed. 'Why can't you just understand what I mean?'
'Oh, I do understand what yo mean, John.' Sherlock answered in a matter of facts voice.
John looked dumbfounded.
'Really...? You do?'
'Yes, you wish for me to clean something that is not a mess in the first place and will go back to the way it was after only a day or two, making you want to clean it again and it will end up going in a circle.' He looked over at John again. 'Let's spare the hours of cleaning and just leave it as it is.'
John blinked at Sherlock. Was the man serious? He really did not see the point in keeping things tidy. Oh this was to much for John, a military man whom had been taught that keeping things in order is a big rule in life.
This was unacceptable and John blew up again.
'THAT'S THE WHOLE THING ABOUT CLEANING!' He almost screamed.
'Oh, it is? How dull.' Sherlock answered in a coll voice that showed he was not moved by Johns emotions over something so trivia as cleaning.
'Why is it so hard for you to see that a little order makes a room much nicer?' John had completely lost his temper now and could no longer control what he was saying. Everything was coming out now. He wasn't yelling at Sherlock any more for not wanting to clean. No, he was now yelling because he was tired, because he had to work tomorrow, because he couldn't get any tea and because he had been running around all day. Chasing a goose!
This was the last straw.
'YOU'RE THE DULL ONE!' He screamed as he stood up. As the words had escaped his mouth he immediately realized how childish it had come out. He really had wanted to have a better retort but that was the first thing that came to mind and naturally as he could not contain his anger any longer, it was the first thing out of his mouth.
Sherlock had stopped reading his book and was now looking at John in astonishment. Had he really just said that? John? The doctor? The soldier had just given him the most childish retort he had ever heard?
Sherlock didn't know weather he should be confused or if he should start laughing at the silliness. He chose the first option as he did not want to anger the man more and get another childish retort thrown his way.
'I'm going out.' Sherlock decided and stood up slowly whilst closing the book and putting it on the coffee-table.
'You are clearly aggravated and probably will be for another few hours. There is no reasoning with you at the moment. I have to work some things out regarding the next case. I need quiet when I think, John.' All of this he said while picked up his coat and putting it on. He was now standing in the doorway with his blue scarf in his hands. John looked at him with an expression that was something of a mix between confusion, shock and anger.
'I need quiet when I think, John.' Sherlock said as he turned the door handle and walked out. 'Do understand me.' He said and closed the door.
John stood alone in the middle of the room with a sort of "oh no he did not just do that" expression on his features. Then he put on a frown and raced over to find his phone in his jacket pocket.
He opened his phone and wrote a text message
'Fine be like that! Leaving because you cannot handle a simple argument! Childish!' It said.
He then stood in silence.
The phone buzzed.
'Go to bed, John.' -SH
'I am going to bed! NIGHT!'- JW
John wrote him back.
Then he stood in silence again and after a few minutes and no reply from Sherlock, he realized how angry and childish he had been.
Also how tired he realy was and Sherlock shouldn't have to be the one he fumed off on.
He wrote him another text.
'Sorry. Good night.' - JW.
One minute later and the phone buzzed.
'Good Night.' - SH.
That's when John really felt how tired he was and he stumbled off to his room and fell asleep.
When Sherlock got home he found the door to Johns room closed and little sounds coming from there that he was asleep. So he simply put the tea he had bought at the late night open store around the corner, outside Johns room before he slumped down on the couch and dozed of himself.