JOHN POV
"Come on then let's get going." Sherlock seemed anxious, something he never was. Maybe he's claustrophobic or something-who wouldn't be packed into a cab with Molly, Lestrade, & John? But Sherlock wasn't claustrophobic, eager maybe but not claustrophobic. If anything he was not his usual self. Usually on a case he was calm, cool, and collected with an occasional smile when he found the murderer. But, on the bright side he wasn't his usual self when Molly was around. He wasn't as mean to John when she was around. He almost seemed to want to please her by not insulting everyone as much as usual. But, of course Sherlock had just said himself sentiment and love was human error. A new thought arose to John and he quickly dismissed it.
Of course not, Sherlock couldn't have actually had an emotion for someone. Let alone plain Molly who he constantly made fun of and dragged around town filling in for John if he was on holiday. No, Sherlock was just eager to catch the murderer. Yeah, that's it.
"Should I call Mrs. Hudson and tell her to meet us there?" Molly asked to no one in particular. She was obviously trying to break the ever growing silence in the packed cab. She was never one for awkward silences. Unfortunately she was usually the one who caused them. Poor Molly, never knew just what to say. "Well, umm, Should I?" She seemed nervous as no one answering her. Everyone else was obviously deep in thought. Sherlock's expression was the picture of puzzlement.
"No, no she's out of town for the day. Visiting her sister, it's a wonder England hasn't fallen yet," He smiled almost as to make a joke. Something was definitely wrong. Sherlock never made jokes. Ever. Not getting as much as a smile from anyone he went back to staring at the back of the cabbie's head. He slipped back into his deep thought. He was probably pondering how he, being the smartest and cleverest man in England, had made a mistake. And so, the awkward silence continued.
"You okay Sherlock?" Lestrade said, he to had the look of confusion that John had on his face. Sherlock looked up annoyed. His majesty had been disturbed from thinking on his throne.
"Of course I'm fine, what else would I be?" And so they continued in silence the cab grew immensely as if the elephant in the room wasn't big enough before. After what seemed like eternity (even longer than waiting for Sherlock to come back from the dead) they finally turned onto Baker Street. They all climbed out and were heading into Speedy's when they were startled by a someone shouting.
"I know for a fact that you intentionally took a longer route," Sherlock was shouting at the poor cabbie. He was very peculiar about his cabbies, always shouting at them about their routes.
"At least he's back to his normal self shouting at people and hunting murders again" John muttered. Oddly enough John liked the normal Sherlock better than the nervous Sherlock. John, Lestrade, and Molly exchanged looks of understanding and proceeded into Speedy's.
" 'Ello Jim, we'll be at the normal table," They picked their way through the steady throng of customers to the empty back table always reserved for the "Reichenbach Hero" and the short guy who blogged about him.
"That's me of course," John thought. Nobody was moving out of the way like they usually did when Sherlock was with him. It was Sherlock they respected, not some ex-army doctor with a semi-popular blog. They didn't care that there was a respected officer from Scotland Yard or the most brilliant forensic scientist that John had ever met had just entered the restaurant. They didn't make an effort to get out of their way. Actually it was almost the opposite. This made getting to their normal back table difficult to get to. No, all they cared about was the brilliant Sherlock Holmes. They could care less about his entourage. The table only had the normal two chairs at it (Sherlock tended not to associate with people whose intelligence was lower than his, or ordinary people as he called them) so Molly and Lestrade pulled up chairs from the always empty neighboring tables. It was almost as if Sherlock had drawn a line onto the dusty floor that "ordinary" people couldn't cross. He did seem to have that effect on people. He scared most but after he saved a few lives (John did the medical part) and solved a few murders people treated him with respect but were still wary of him. Always sneaking glances at him like he was a bomb about to go off.
"What'll it be guys?" Jim looked around, "Hmm, No Sherlock today? Is he on a case?" Getting no reply from the trio he answered his own question. "Of course he is," he chuckled at himself, "We haven't heard any shooting coming from above here." Now he was lost in his own joke. He began to laugh thinking that perhaps they would join in in his cheerfulness. But, after seeing their frowning faces he realized he wasn't going to get a laugh out of them and his smile faded. He had just realized that they were obviously on a case, and not just here for lunch.
"Is it a mass murder? I haven't seen anything in the papers lately." John shook his head.
"No just the one but it's a sad one," He turned his attention to the ground. Almost as to study the lines in the dust on the weathered old floor. "No one here to mourn her." Jim joined John staring at the floor and Molly became very interested in the state of her freshly painted nails. (Red, John noticed. The shade Sherlock likes.)
The bell rang signaling there was a new customer. Jim looked over his shoulder "Mm that's another costumer, be right back," He turned around to began picking his way through the crowded restaurant but stopped. "Oh, that'll be Sherlock now," Sherlock stormed through the restaurant practically seething with anger. All activity in the crowded restaurant stopped, they were all watching Sherlock. It was as if the whole lot of them were holding their breath, waiting and watching. Sherlock didn't seem to notice though.
"It seemed impossible that Sherlock would not notice something though. No, sorry he "observed". He never noticed he observed." John thought smugly. Sherlock constantly lectured him on the difference.
But, Sherlock just made his way to the trio and Jim. His swiftness and curtness cut through the tension in the room like one of their mismatched steak knives. About halfway to the table from the door he finally seemed to notice that people were staring. Then he snapped. He rarely snapped. Actually John had only seen him snap twice. Once when criminals tortured Mrs. Hudson (He really did them in) and once when a bum insulted Molly. He had told the police he had "tripped" and broken those bones but John knew better. Sherlock genuinely cared for her even if he said that love was a human error. But boy, when Sherlock snapped he sure did snap.
"What is everyone staring at?" Sherlock glared at the costumers. "Get back to eating. They won't call it an eatery if you don't eat in it," To anyone else it might have sounded like he was joking. But not Sherlock, he was serious. Dead serious. The silence broke when someone dropped their fork. It clattered to the ground and the spell was broken. Seats scuffed and glasses clinked, chatter began creeping back into the dreary London atmosphere. Sherlock resumed his trek through the various chairs and people. The silence might have broken but not the nervousness that came when Sherlock walked into a room with his collar up and his intimidating cheekbones. He was a time bomb. If you listened closely you could almost hear the soft tick, tick, tick of his patience waning when he was around ordinary people. He had no use for their common thoughts and snide remarks. All he had time for was his massive intellect and his mind palace.
The king himself sat down. More like threw himself down like a puppy who had been denied mother's milk. He huffed and looked at them all.
"Well?" He was annoyed again. They exchanged looks. He was dangerous when he was annoyed. You never knew what he would say or do. Molly was the first to find the courage to speak.
"Well what? You know we aren't mind readers you know." Sherlock smiled as she frowned at him.
"Here comes some clever retort" John thought, "Poor Molly, you will never win her over if you keep making fun of her like this." He waited grimacing. He knew Sherlock was already infuriated and could snap again at any time. But, now Sherlock was smiling. That was never good. Sherlock and smiling didn't exactly go hand in hand. If Sherlock was smiling there must be murder in the air. Unnerved, John squirmed in his chair. The silence was ever growing and even more awkward.
"Well, have you ordered yet?" He finally broke the silence and eye contact with Molly.
"No, not yet, We were waiting for you to stop shouting at the poor cabbie who obviously just lost his mum and needs a little extra money to tide him over," Molly was almost shouting herself and Sherlock looked surprised.
"Wow, The King just met the Queen and she sure can put him in his place." John chuckled. Sherlock was actually experiencing emotions today. Molly was the picture of defiance as if she had finally found her backbone. Sherlock's face was confused. He seemed unsure whether to laugh or to be taken aback.
"You observed all of that?" He seemed pleased. Almost as Molly had just passed a test. With Sherlock I'm sure she did.
"No, I Noticed all of that" she sneered.
"Wow" was the only word that John thought. Who is this and where did they put the shy little girl who always did as she was told?