After the air had cleared and Sherlock no longer thought he'd have to step foot in a brothel, he was happy as a lark, reorganizing my flat to his liking.
I looked on with annoyance as he rearranged my DVD collection while Mary seemed delighted by his antics.
"It's OCD," I whispered to her.
"Aw, it's sort of cute," she cooed, "In a way."
"Just don't let him into the bedroom, last thing I need is him seeing the state of our sock drawer."
"Why would I let him into the bedroom?" she asked with a serious face.
"Well... I," I stuttered.
"This case is empty," Sherlock exclaimed.
"Try the-"
"I'm not an idiot, the DVD player is empty as well," Sherlock sneered as he jumped to his feet, "Someone you know, someone very close to you, has taken it from you, without your permission."
"Oh, God," I groaned. Mary looked absolutely thrilled as Sherlock started searching the flat, looking for clues, with the DVD case in hand.
"This is exciting," Mary squealed with delight, "Just like your blog."
"Only he's not going to find a dead body in our toilet," I thought to myself a moment, "He'd better not."
Sherlock headed straight to the toilet and started searching through our personal items, making snide remarks about the amount of hair care products I owned, the state of my sink, the species of mould on my ceiling. Then he found our built-in linen closet.
It took him just a second to scurry up the shelves and into the attic's crawl space.
I stood by the door, looking up at his dangling feet disappearing into the black abyss, as he crawled through.
"I think he likes it here," Mary remarked, looking up at the ceiling.
"He's like a bloody five year old," I said, debating whether or not to go up after him as he started making a racket, "No, you know what? A five year old would know better!"
"John, you're being harsh."
"Harsh? Harsh! There's a fully grown man skittering about above our heads and I'm being harsh?"
"Let him have his fun, he doesn't get out much anymore," she said sadly.
"He's going to find the neighbours flat and scare the-"
The door bell chimed and scared me half to death. I clutched on to my racing heart as Mary went to answer the door.
"Sherlock!" she shouted with surprise. "Long time, no see, come in!" she ushered Sherlock in who was shaking the dust and debris from his hair.
"You should have that sealed off, it leads straight outside, any man could... what?" Sherlock asked, matching my look of annoyance.
"He's right, anyone could break in to our flat," Mary agreed.
"Oh, right and now you're going to tell me that the thief that stole our DVD but not its case got in through the linen cupboard?" I asked Sherlock.
"No, I was going to tell you I was the one that borrowed the DVD," Sherlock said as he avoided eye contact with me, "Not intentionally of course. You left it in the DVD player at home... Baker Street," he corrected, "It was the last film we watched together," he said solemnly, handing me the case.
Roger Moore, Live and Let Die.
"I'd best be going," Sherlock said, snatching his coat from the side of the sofa, and leaving in a hurry.
I stood with the DVD case in hand for quite some time, just staring at it. I forgot about our Bond marathon that had only lasted a film and a half, of which Sherlock saw only small bits and fragments and was therefore fairly confused when Sean Connery turned into Roger Moore.
I looked up to see Mary was acting strange, like she didn't know how to feel. I thought I knew how she was feeling but then she burst out and yelled, "Why do you always have to scare him away?"
She became a whirlwind of emotions and escaped to the bedroom, slamming the door shut, and locking me out. Leaving me to wonder what I had done.
