The Doctor Won't Wake

-Watson's POV-

"Watson?"

I groaned.

"Watson!"

I groaned again, hoping he'd leave.

"Shall I pour this water on you, or will you wake?" demanded a very unwelcome voice in the early hours of a chilly autumn morning.

I rolled over to confront my flatmate. "Holmes, if you pour that water on me, I will see to it you never wake up peacefully again," I threatened. "Have you no respect for sleep?"

"Doctor, you have too much respect for sleep to possibly go through with your threat," Holmes responded. "I have a client, and thought you might be interested in joining me. The fellow is quite upset over a robbery."

I put my hands over my face and groaned.

"Sitting room in five minutes," Holmes said.

I listened as he left the room and walked briskly down the stairs. I lay there recalling the long, late night we had had. We were dining out. After finishing, we met Lestrade and went to a performance that lasted until after midnight. It was interrupted by Holmes revealing that the actor who played the hero was interested in pottery and painting. He explained his deductions to Lestrade, ruining most of the second act. The people in front of us left.

I rolled over and yawned. Holmes could wait, I thought. Sleep quickly overcame my tired body.