I didn't think anyone would like that last chapter, but I guess I was proved wrong. I'll continue to write more strange plots, every so often. A big 'Thank You' to all of my followers, favoriters, and reviewers;) This chapter was very fun and entertaining to write. Enjoy!
The whole of London was once again hatefully silent, with the occasional vexatious voice in the street selling newspapers; and the idle conversations of the people below.
John sips his tea, while browsing through a section of the Daily Telegraph. Leaving Sherlock once again, trying to subdue his rancid thoughts with those of a more subsequent nature in his vast storehouse of memories.
John glances up from his newspaper over to his flatmate. The army doctor would often watch him for a number of hour's, unaware of the time passing. The detectives fluttering eyelids and his unique and rambunctious hand gestures; were an added entertainment for the bored army doctor. He often wondered how he was able to concentrate so flawlessly, that almost no outside noise could distract him from his work. One exception being himself. He had a many, sometimes unsavory methods to stir the detective from his palace.
But this time, he was too bored to utilize them and ruin his only antidote.
"Boys, I've brought you some sandwiches." Mrs. Hudson comes into the sitting room as cheerful as ever, carrying a tray of watercress.
"O dear, has he been like that all day?" the landlady asks, eyeing the meditating figure on the sofa.
"I'm afraid so Mrs. Hudson. He hasn't stirred from that spot ever since he got a text from Lestrade, vaguely outlining his worst fear. Which of course for Sherlock is like displaying it in bold."
"Now it seems were both reduced to slowly rotting."
"I'm sorry to hear that, I know how much you boys love solving those crimes. Can You?"
"Yes," John replies.
The army doctor walks over to Sherlock on the sofa, and gently grasps his hand.
"John, I'm busy."
"I know. You've been busy for four hour's, but now it's time to eat, so that if Lestrade texts you; we will have enough energy to solve the crime, and not collapse on the pavement."
"John, that was one time," Sherlock huffs, still not opening his eyes.
"Sherlock do you remember The Hollow Client?"
The detective thinks for a moment, and then hastily grabs a watercress off the tray in front of them.
The army doctor gives a satisfied grin at Mrs. Hudson, and also grabs a sandwich off the tray.
"I'll leave you two alone. There's some biscuits in the fridge if you get hungry." Mrs. Hudson gives her goodbyes and leaves the flat.
"Well, I'm going to my experiments," Sherlock announces, and walks into the kitchen.
John watches the detective closely, as he grabs a bowl and a bottle from the spice rack.
Seeing that he couldn't possibly cause too much damage with the items that he gathered, the army doctor fetches his laptop off the table, and for the next few minutes he concerns himself with updating his blog.
...
"John, can you come here for a moment?"
The army doctor sighs and removes himself from his chair, and goes into the kitchen.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Can you stick your finger in this bowl?"
The army doctor immediately turns his attention to the ceramic bowl with floating black particles in front of him.
"No, the last time you asked me to stick my hand in something I got a second-degree burn, and I had to wear an ice-pack for two days," The army doctor sputters.
"John, can you remove my experiments from the oven and the refrigerator? I'm in the bath... Be careful, one of them is exothermic... that means it's extremely hot... put them on the heat resistant tarp on the counter," Sherlock shouts.
"Alright, but they better not be body parts."
"No, they're just fluids that I genetically modified," Sherlock finishes.
John slides oven mitts over both his hands, and takes out the bowl in the oven first. With the first bowl safely on the tarp, John removes his oven mitts to handle the second bowl in the refrigerator...
"Ahhhhhh!"
"You touched the one in the refrigerator didn't you?" Sherlock scolds.
"It's not my fault that you didn't know which bowl I meant."
"Yes it is Sherlock. If you would have explained to me that the extremely hot bowl was in the refrigerator, I would have kept my oven mitts on."
"Well, of course it was. You don't cool something in an oven," Sherlock chides.
"You didn't mention anything about cooling," John retorts.
"Yes I did. You just weren't listening, or you forgot that I mentioned it."
John rubs the back of his neck. "Whatever Sherlock, I vowed that day that I would never touch another experiment of yours ever again. And i'm not going to break it."
The army doctor struts out of the kitchen and collapses onto his chair in the sitting room. "Wait for it," John mutters.
"Pleeeeaaaasssse Jawwn! I'm so incredibly bored. I can feel my brain wasting away." Sherlock looks up from his cries of despair over to a smiling army doctor walking toward him.
"You never change do you?"
"All right, I'll do it. But if I get hurt again, you're the one who will be visiting the hospital."
Sherlock nods.
"Before I do this, can you at least tell me what's in it?"
"No," Sherlock says dryly. "It has to be a surprise."
The army doctor hovers his hand over the surface of the bowl and gulps nervously.
Sherlock was enjoying watching as the army doctors hand lowered and rose above the bowl. The fearful stops he would make; just barely hovering over the liquid, added to the amusement.
Sherlock softens his voice to a reassuring tone. "John?"
The army doctor hesitantly stops just a millimeter from the liquid. "What?"
"I promise that I won't hurt you. Just do this for me John."
The army doctor sighs even heavier, and positions his valuable appendage above the unknown liquid.
After exhaling dramatically, John screws his eyes shut, and slowly lowers his finger into the murky water...
John moves his finger around for a few seconds, and knits his brow.
"Sherlock this is water."
...
Loud laughter fills the flat, causing John to open his eyes.
"You...you horrible little git!...this was all to entertain you wasn't it? You made me think there was something harmful in this bowl, to amuse you!"
"Yes. Might I say your performance was exemplary." Sherlock hovers his hand over the bowl and re-enacts the army doctors bodily gestures and motions.
The army doctor scowls angrily at Sherlock.
"John, let's be rational about this. There was no harm done, and your finger is safe."
"You're not still thinking about that hospital idea are you?" Sherlock asks.
"I have no intention of sending you to the hospital, I have something far more terrible in mind."
...
Two hours later...
"John, how many more times do I have to write this?" Sherlock asks.
"All right, I suppose I should be merciful. I want you to clean the chalk-board and tell me when you're finished."
...
"I'm finished, now what?" Sherlock replies.
"Grab a new piece of chalk, and write: I will tell my flatmate what's in my experiments from now on. 1000 times."
Oh, the nerve of that detective sometimes! At least he's occupied... Right? Chapter 13 will be out next week. Feel free to review;)
