John had gone up to... well, somewhere in Scotland with one of his rugby friends, two days ago and wasn't expected until tomorrow night. Mrs Hudson was somewhere, not here, probably with her sister or the neighbour woman, Turner, was it? But he'd shouted and she hadn't answered and it was definitely time for lunch. No John and no Mrs Hudson meant he had to fend for himself.
With a great sigh, Sherlock pushed himself off the sofa and padded, barefoot into the kitchen. He checked the shelves, thinking about crisps or biscuits, something simple, before heading to the fridge. He pulled the door open and was met with not only a blast of cool air, but the sight of a rather delicious delicacy in front of him.
Key lime pie.
Sherlock's head fell a few degrees to the right. How did that get in there? How had he not noticed? It had to be new. It wasn't there when John had left, John would have been all over it, so... conclusion, Mrs Hudson had brought it up sometime in the past two days.
Sherlock shrugged and pulled the pie plate out. He set it down on the table, got a knife and fork, and flopped into the chair. He cut himself a slice and, without bothering for things like plates, jabbed his fork into the pie.
The whipping cream was pliable beneath the fork; it hadn't been frozen before this. The key lime filling was soft and fluffy; Sherlock raised the fork to eye level to inspect it. It was actually a nice looking pie. He didn't really have much time for such things, though. He didn't have ambition to make lunch, either. The crust was thin, but yet strong enough to hold the filling, and perfectly moulded to the pie plate.
He put the bite into his mouth, crushing the pie between his teeth. The shortbread crust fell to bits between his teeth. The cool, refreshing flavour of what was called key lime rushing over his tastebuds.
There was no definitive way to describe key lime. It was sweet, it was cool, it was light and airy and refreshing. But he wasn't sure it had a taste... It tasted like key lime. It was like peppermint; it had no real way of describing it, but people knew what it was when they tasted it.
The combination of the coolness and the sweetness, coupled by the whipped cream, was set with the slight crunch of a biscuit crust and it was a delicious treat for a hungry consulting detective.
He licked his lips and swallowed, licking the whipped cream off his fingers afterwards. He brushed crumbs from his shirt and leaned over the table to take another bite.
[I've never actually had Key Lime Pie, either. I've had Key Lime Pie flavoured chewing gum. It seems to me that Key Lime is hard to describe... like Sherlock thinks: like peppermint. It has a taste, but it's hard to put your finger on what it is exactly. But 'K' was difficult, so I'm sorry for a potentially lacklustre chapter.]
Sherlock and pie and whipped cream and another idiosyncrasy of eating things he shouldn't be. ;D 'Real' food next chapter. Well... sort of. It's not a dessert, anyway.
Don't own Sherlock. If I did, the episodes would have him eating more often. And sleeping. And being platonically cuddly with John. Anyway, review? If you have a thought or have the time. Thank you!