Sherlock Holmes, His Limits: Poison

"How long are you going to be growing that plant in the window?" John enquired one day, glancing over at it from where he was finishing his breakfast of toast and tea.

"Oh, who knows," Sherlock drawled from his spot sprawled on the couch. He, as always, had scarfed down his meal and was now lying about, waiting for another case. "Now, John, what do you think of it?"

"Well, I don't quite know what to think, to be honest," John replied, cautiously. "What exactly is it?"

"I would think that as a medical man, you would know." John glanced nervously over at Sherlock. The detective nodded, impatient.

"Hmm, let me see." John peered closely at the plant. "Oh my!" he exclaimed, jumping back. "That's belladonna!"

"Of course it is." The reply was calm. "It wouldn't do me much good otherwise."

He looked sharply at Sherlock. "What kind of 'good' are you planning where belladonna would come in handy?"

Sherlock just raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"On second thought, I really don't think I do." John declared decisively. He settled back into his toast and tried to ignore the poisonous plant lurking in his windowsill.