"Sherlock!" John yelled, his voice carrying from a couple of rooms away. After waiting a minute with no reply, he stormed into the living room, wearing only a towel.
"Not now, John. I'm busy." Sherlock didn't even bother to glance up at him. He lay on the couch with his eyes shut and fingers on his temples.
John gritted his teeth and waited. Sherlock must be "deleting" as he called it, or organizing the hard drive of his brain and getting rid of unimportant knowledge. This was known to take a while, often about two hours. Right now, he was probably putting all the information he had saved into little specific file folders. John just sighed at the oddness of his flatmate.
Suddenly, Sherlock sat up and gasped, his blue eyes opened wide. Which John took as an invitation to begin talking.
"There's a leg in the shower. Not even a pair, but just one. Why the hell..."
Sherlock barely looked over at him. "Put it there."
"I know you did!" shouted John.'
"Okay... What are you asking?" The sad thing was, Sherlock seemed legitimately confused. As if he didn't realize that a body part lying in the shower would freak out a normal person.
"Oh. You're only wearing a towel." Sherlock finally bothered to glance over at John fully.
John smiled at him in a way that said I-want-to-kill-you-in-your-sleep-tonight. "Great deduction. Not hurry up and get the bloody leg out so I can shower!"
"I can't."
John's mouth gaped open. "What do you mean you can't?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes at having to explain. "Transporting the leg would mess up the experiment. You can just use my bathroom."
"Oh... Alright. Thanks." John was shocked that Sherlock was actually allowing him to shower in the other bathroom. He usually was adamant about not sharing his things, and not having anyone in his room or snooping through his things. Yet he was letting John shower in his bathroom.
When John walked in, he was greeted with a neat, clean appearance. Of course. The inside curtain was a bright white. All the conditioner, shampoo and body wash was grouped together. An exfoliating sponge hung in the corner of the shower.
He turned the faucet onto hot and stepped into the shower, sighing at the warmth and comfort of the water.
There was a knock at the door. "What?" he tried to yell over the noise of the water running.
Suddenly, the knob turned and he heard Sherlock step inside. "I said, do you need anything?"
"Nope. I'm good."
He disappeared off into another room, and John thought out loud, "What was that about?"
This was strange, even for Sherlock. Who had been acting noticeably odd lately. Who knows, John thought. He was dealing with the world's only consulting detective, after all.
Please review and give me suggestions for the next chapter! Thanks :)
