Chapter 7

"Go away." Sherlock tried to shoo John away from the flat. "Why can't I stay, I'll be upstairs in my room anyway. This is my flat to-" John argued against Sherlock. "I don't care John, go and play with Sarah or something." Sherlock pushed John out of the front door and threw out his keys. Remember that it was nearing December and a sick John means an irritated John, especially if a certain person made him sick in the first place, Sherlock also left John's coat outside the door as well.

Relieved of his flatmate, Sherlock ran up the stairs to the bathroom to have a shower and get changed out of his pajamas before Esme arrived.

15 minutes later, after hearing a knock, Sherlock casually walked back down the steps, now fully dressed, and opened the door. Esme entered into 221B Baker Street wearing a vintage t-shirt, grey cardigan, black leggings and thoroughly worn in converses.

"Hello Sherlock!" Esme flung her arms around his neck in a kind hug and Sherlock returned the favour by slowly wrapping his arms around her waist, as if he was just waiting for disapproval "Hello Esmeralda." He smiled politely.

Esme looked Sherlock up and down, taking in his attire before saying "Why are you wearing that?" pointing at his slim cut emperor Armani suit and his deep purple shirt. Sherlock slightly bruised by her unkind comment replied "What wrong with it?"

"Hello? That suit and shirt look really nice and expensive. We're painting today and as you know I'm not exactly the best at keeping things neat" She smiled apologetically.

"Don't worry I really don't mind" He lied, that was his favourite most prized suit and he absolutely loved that soft cotton shirt.

"Don't you try and lie to me Sherlock Holmes" She winked "You go and get changed and I'll start setting things up down here"

Sherlock mouthed a quick thank you, for the saving of his suit and went upstairs and shut his door behind him.

Sherlock potted up and down his room contemplating what would be most appropriate. He was usually used to being looking well tailored and now he had to appear casual instead.

He eventually decided on a modified version of an outfit that he had seen a young man wearing. Putting on a black v-neck t-shirt, chinos that Mycroft had bought him on his 25th birthday and white converses from his uni days that Sherlock had sworn he would never wear again, Sherlock strode over to his full sized "vanity central" as John like to call it, mirror.

Not half bad if I might say so myself.

He reached the bottom floor and spun around "What do think now?"

"Most suited to the occasion Mr. Holmes" Esme spoke in a fake posh accent.

"Why thank you Miss. Valentina." He played along dutifully.

"Now how do we get started?" Sherlock asked, unsure how to begin.

"Well, first of all, that skull can't remain on the mantle, it's much too high up" She walked over to the mantle and looked back at Sherlock for his approval to touch it; he gave a small nod "I think it would be best on the rug, then we could sit on the floor. It would give us the best angle."

"That's fine by me"

Esme placed the skull snugly into the heavier piled rug and sat cross-legged on the floor, patting the space next to her indicating Sherlock to join her.

He mimicked her position and then asked "What do we do next?"

"Draw a top, middle and bottom line on the page, so that we know where we are drawing"

She stroked three lines across the canvas in a fluid motion.

"Then we draw the rough outline of the skull to give us some guidelines as to were the eyes sockets, teeth etcetera are going to be."

She picked up her pencil again and slowly etched in the shape and form of the skull, looking back and forth between the page and the object. However, when she had gotten halfway through, she handed the pencil over to Sherlock.

Bemused, he asked "What am I meant to do?"

"I said we were going to do this together you have to draw the other half."

Happy at his new challenge, Sherlock drew his side paying meticulous attention to Esme's side as he sketched, making sure it was exactly symetrical.

"Done."

"It's...not half bad."

"Not half bad?" Sherlock mimicked "I think someone is lying."

"Fine, it's really good. Have I boosted you ego enough?" Esme muttered sarcastically.

"Not quite. Try again later." They both let out a dry chuckle.

"We need start on the finer details, like his eye and nose sockets and then the teeth."

She reached into her pocket and gave Sherlock her spare pencil

"Now we can both draw at the same time." She smiled.

They put their heads down and started from the top with the eyes, occasionally glancing at their opposite half, making sure that they were both perfect, adjusting each other's slightly when needed.

"Perfect." They both said at the same time. Laughing, Esme clicked open her case.

"Paint time!" Esme wiggled in glee, Sherlock simply smiled at her childishness.

"I think that we should lay out some newspaper. John would kill me if we got paint on the carpet!" Sherlock torn out pages of an old Metro and spread them out across the floor. Esme brought a large palate and squirted out a luxurious amount of black and white poster paint next to each other. Mixing them together in the middle, leaving three colours.

"There you are Mr. Holmes." She said handing him a small tipped paintbrush.

"Thank you," Sherlock had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes "I'll show you how this is done"

"Really?" Esme let out a bored yawn.

Sherlock dipped his brush into the paint, not wiping off the excess paint, Sherlock stroked his brush across the canvas too fast, causing the paint to flick out Esme's face, much to her surprise.

"Sherlock! You idiot!" Esme grabbed her paintbrush, dipped it in the paint and flicked it in Sherlock's direction, getting white paint in his jet black curls.

"You have no idea what you just started." Sherlock grinned.

"Bring it."

Sherlock ran over and grabbed a bottle of paint and click the lid off.

"You wouldn't dare."

Sherlock sprayed the paint across her clothes, howling sounds of laughter, not noticing Esme picking up a can of bright blue paint and throwing it straight in Sherlock's face.

Wiping the majority of the paint off his face, Sherlock ducked behind the couch. Esme looked around wondering where Sherlock had disappeared to, as he crept behind.

Holding the bottle upside above her head behind her, Sherlock tapped on her shoulder. She spun across, almost face to face with Sherlock as he squeezed the bottle tight, releasing a downpour of green paint into her hair.

She shrieked and ran across the room, picking up a bottle of red paint from her case.

Both armed, with loaded containers of paint they stood at the ready.

"I'll surrender, if you do." Sherlock said, between fits of laughter. "On the count of three, we both drop them. One...Two...Three!"

Neither surrendered and both proceeded cover the other with the last of their emulsion. "I knew you wouldn't stop!" She pointed a finger of accusation.

"Neither did you!"

Looking around themselves, they realized that that they had managed to pretty much cover almost everything around them in paint, including themselves.

"Mrs. Hudson is going to have a stroke, if she comes in here!"

"We should probably clean this up" Esme tried to be serious, but failed miserably.

They both sat back down on the floor, cross-legged again.

Esme leaned against Sherlock's shoulder, and at first he tensed up at her touch but slowly started to relax.

"I've had so much fun today Sherlock." Esme said, her voice quite soft.

"So did I Esmeralda." Sherlock thought again for a second "I really enjoyed your company."


"So what have they been like then, Mrs Hudson?" John asked apprehensively

"Well, they was a bit of noise coming from up there a while ago, but they seemed to have settled down a bit in the last few hours."

John nodded and looked at his watch. It was nearly midnight, so he said goodbye to Mrs. Hudson before departing up the stairs to 221B Baker Street. Hoping that Esme had left already so that he could have a bath in peace, he opened the door.

John's eyes grew as wide as dish plates.

"Oh My God."

John whispered as he looked around the flat is utter disbelief. The usually beautiful wall-papered walls, had been covered in splatters of different colour paint and as had most of the furniture. Why could he not safely leave Sherlock alone without him causing some type of expensive damage to the flat?

Ready to give a verbal lecture to Sherlock on why paint should not be sprayed onto chairs and televisions, John called out.

"Sherlock! I'm bac-" John quickly hush his voice, as he looked at the where the rug was.

Sat on the floor, backs against the couch, was Sherlock and Esme both layered from head to toe in paint. They had both, at some point fallen asleep and Esme was leaning against him for support and he had placed his painted mops of curls on her shoulder. They both looked equally comfortable in each other's presence, quietly snoring away in peace. In front of them was a magnificent painting of Sherlock's favored skull, still drying, with paintbrushes left next to it.

What on earth is he wearing? John thought, remembering that he had never seen Sherlock dress this casually, in chinos and converse, however John had to admit, it suited him quite well.

Deciding this was an opportunity not to be missed, John took a quick photograph on his phone, for future use against him.

John left upstairs to the confinement of his room, but not before he said

"You are a very lucky man Sherlock Holmes."

TBC

Wow. This is the longest chapter I have ever written at almost 2000 words! Thank you for reading , Chapter 8 is coming soon, but Chapter 9 will be a biggie! So Leave a review for a sneak peek of chapter 9!