Chapter 10: Is This The Correct Tense

After we entered the flat, Sherlock had strolled past us and sat down in his chair, before adopting his 'thinking pose'. John gave him a long-suffering look that Sherlock didn't see – his eyes were closed – and moved into the kitchen to make some tea. I followed, unsure of what to do – how was one supposed to act around care-givers that they had only known for a few hours? However, John seemed to sense my inner turmoil, and poured me a glass of milk, which I took gratefully – I was parched.

Once he'd made the tea, John glanced towards Sherlock before beckoning me out the door and up the stairs to what I assumed to be his bedroom.

My assumptions were proved correct when the ex-army-doctor opened the door to reveal a rather bare room. He didn't have many belonging compared to Sherlock – his clothes were all neatly in the drawers, he most likely kept his suits in the wardrobe, and all that was on his bed-side table was a lamp and a book.

John moved over to sit on the neatly-made bed, taking a sip of his tea and giving a relieved sigh. I hovered in the doorway, unsure of what to do. How was it that all my courage had fled when I saw the camera? I shook my head, frustrated with myself, and snatched a pillow off the bed before seating myself firmly on the floor.

John raised an eyebrow. "You alright there?" he asked, and I nodded. I didn't have any tactical advantages while on the floor facing the bed, but then again, I didn't have many anyway; I was a ten-year old.

John seemed somewhat satisfied with my decision. "So, how did you do that? Back there, I mean."

By 'back there', I would wager a guess that he meant what I'd deduced about his past. I decided to tell the truth.

"With ease."

John giggled, but it soon turned into a full on, deep-bellied laugh. I quirked an eyebrow. He didn't strike me as one to giggle, but then again, I hadn't expected Sherlock to be a forgotten Being.

After the good doctor had recovered, he took small sips of his tea, giggling every now and then.

"Finished?" I asked. John nodded, grinning into his cup. At that moment, and it was rather ridiculous, but he reminded me of a hedgehog. I chose not to tell him – if he had another laughing fit, he'd disrupt Sherlock.

I finished my milk, reaching up to put the mug on John's bedside table. He finished his tea soon after, and shrugged before placing his beside mine.

"Want to go out for dinner?" he asked, then took a mental step back and elaborated, "We don't have any food. Sherlock keeps using it for his experiments."

I gave a nod. "Yeah. I probably need the sun."

John looked like he was going to agree, then seemed to think better of it. I stood, reaching for his hand, and he clasped it in his warmer one, rubbing feeling into mine. I hadn't noticed how cold I was.

We walked down the stairs, taking care not to stand on the noisy ones, to the bottom floor, where John received a kiss on the cheek from Mrs Hudson, I received a hug and we were given a 'Be careful'.

However, as soon as we stepped out of the building, a black car pulled up alongside Speedy's. The window rolled down to reveal a young-looking woman with dark hair who seemed entirely focused on her blackberry.

My eyes darted over her- right handed, apparently engaged but this was most likely only to stop flirtatious advances, probably close to as observational as Sherlock, wears contacts to disguise features more than just the make-up would allow, very tech-savvy, but most of the time spent on the blackberry is an illusion of being off-guard.

John rolled his eyes. "I don't suppose I can tell her to go inside?" he questioned.

The lady gave him a fake smile and shook her head. John shook his head also and opened the door for me. I hesitated - though he would know the abductor, he should be more wary of the situation. The lady looked up from the phone and gave me a reassuring nod. I sighed and stepped into the vehicle, scooting over into the middle seat. John followed.

As we began driving, I noticed the distinct lack of people staring or wondering why we were just forced into a car. I gave a small laugh, and the lady cast me an odd look.

"What?" John asked, a smile playing around his lips.

I took a deep breath. "We just got..." I laughed again, "taken off the street," I stressed the words, "forced into a black car, and-" John started giggling at this point, "no-one thinks it's even the slightest bit odd!"

We burst into peals of laughter, the lady staring at us like lunatics and the driver wondering whether we belonged in a mental institute. And I'm not sure what it says about our sanity - perhaps we were simply tense - but once we arrived in the abandoned warehouse, John and I started laughing again.

Edit: 25.2.16