John holds his breath as they walk into the ornate basilica, aware he is testing both Sherlock's patience (tourism, religious trappings) and his own ability to keep a secret hidden from his flatmate (impassive facade, miracle). He is (almost) positive his quiet exchange with the woman at the ticket desk went unnoticed, largely because Sherlock was hyper-dramatically sighing from the doorway as he deduced the (boring) cluster of tourists outside. John's confidence builds as they mount the gallery stairs, if only because the gangly man resembles nothing so much as that fraying toddler on the landing below (predictable). If he smelled even the promise of a secret before them, he'd be herding John up the steps like an aqualine sheepdog.
They arrive at the top and Sherlock is momentarily distracted by the expanse laid out below them (reprieve). They circle the dome in silence, John taking in the view and Sherlock mapping, memorizing (potentially useful). John grins broadly when Sherlock freezes at the window of the walkway back.
"There's a bee hive", he hisses.
"Indeed", says John mildly.
"Our urban nature initiative—shall we go see?", offers the woman who materializes before them. She winks at John, who smiles as childish delight dawns on his friend's face. Bees and a surprise (blogger brilliance): the upside of a case in Berlin.
221 words per Pages. Inspired by the discovery of the "Berlin Summt (Berlin Buzzes)" bee cultivation at the Berlin Dom (cathedral) during a recent trip. I neither own nor profit from...