FLASH
"John, would you please put that camera down?" Sherlock asked, lifting his head from his experiment. "I'm trying to reverse the polarity on this subject."
"Hey, we own a camera now," John said, focusing the camera at the skull on the fireplace. "I didn't expect you really buy it. I thought you'd borrow it from somebody."
"There wasn't time, John."
"Yes, well, I'm just going to make sure that we get our money's worth from it," said John as he toyed with the zoom button. "You never know, you might pretend to be a photographer again someday."
Sherlock rolled his eyes before returning to his experiment. John took two steps to his left and focused the camera on the skull again. Click. He frowned. Instead of focusing on the skull, the camera had chosen to make the wallpaper the focus of attention. John looked to his left and saw Sherlock deep in thought at the table. If he didn't use the flash setting, there was the chance that Sherlock wouldn't notice that he was being photographed.
John brought the camera up to his face and gently pressed the button. Click. He took another, this time holding the camera vertically. Click. He zoomed in. Click. He zoomed out. Click. He changed the color settings on the camera to black and white. Click.
Moving around the living area slowly, John took hundreds of pictures. He'd never really paid attention to Sherlock's face when he was thinking. In some pictures, his brow was furrowed, lines appearing across his forehead. At the moment, it was unreadable, but his eyes sparkled.
"John, I'm going to need you to leave," Sherlock said abruptly.
"What, why?" John looked at the camera in his hands.
"We're out of milk again. I forgot to tell you. Can you go get some?"
"Um, yeah," John nodded. "Yeah, I'll just go upstairs and get my wallet."
John stepped up the stairs, camera in tow. He ejected the memory card and put it in his pocket. Grabbing his wallet, he walked down the stairs until he reached the landing. "Sherlock, I'll be back soon."
Receiving no answer from his flatmate, John walked out into the brisk air.
"Where have you been?" Sherlock asked as John walked into the kitchen. He was still sitting in the chair, leaning towards a microscope.
"The store," John said, taking the milk out of the bag and putting into the refrigerator.
"Oh, right."
"How's the experiment?"
"Fine, it's all fine."
"Good, that's good. Um, I'm just going to be in my room. I'll be right back."
John hurried up to his room and shut the door. While he shrugged off his coat, he pulled out the packet of photographs. They'd been flatmates for some time now, but he still had no idea how Sherlock's mind worked. There was the slight chance that if he studied the pictures, he might have a clue as to what Sherlock was thinking half of the time. It was a miniscule chance, but it was one worth taking. John looked to his right and saw that, as he'd expected, the camera had been moved. It looked as if Sherlock had wanted to see the photographs after all. John considered hiding the envelope under his mattress, but that was too obvious a hiding place. After a few minutes of thinking, John slipped the packet into a medical file.
John walked back down the steps with the camera hanging by its strap around his neck. Removing the lens cap, he snapped a picture of one of their chairs.
"John, I'd like to see the camera please."
"What?"
"You heard me."
Knowing that the game was up, John walked to Sherlock and handed him the camera. Sherlock smiledu and clicked the review button. His smile turned to a frown quickly.
"Where are the pictures that you took of me?"
"What?"
"You took several photographs of me."
John shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, come on, John. I could hear you clicking the button. The camera's lens was aimed at me."
"I still don't know what you're talking about," John turned around and walked back into the living room, a grin forming on his face.