The Reichenbach Fall
Suspicious Silence
It had been two and a half days and he was already regretting the wager more than he had thought possible. Apparently in trying to scare Sherlock, Rose was in reality going to give John a heart attack.
It seemed the young woman had far more creativity and patience than he'd given her credit for and while her attempts were very well executed, they were catching the wrong flat mate.
Later that evening – after she had apparently turned in for the night – John had decided that he'd rather like a few biscuits with his evening tea. On opening the cupboard however, instead of finding custard creams, he found Rose Spencer, contorted into what must have been the most uncomfortable seating position he'd ever seen in his life.
On hearing his – incredibly strong and manly – yelp of surprise, Sherlock had enquired as to what he'd found, obviously wondering whether John had disturbed one of his unspecified experiments.
While he knew denying anything would only arise suspicion, John was surprised to find his friend found nothing unusual at all in the sentence "Nothing, just Rose in the kitchen cupboard."
And that was how it started.
The next morning, John got up and dressed, deciding that he'd have a cup of coffee and head to the shop to pick up a few things for the day.
Making his cuppa, he took a sip, feeling the caffeine practically seep into his bloodstream as the hot drink settled in his stomach.
Sighing happily, the unsuspecting doctor picked up the day's newspaper on the table – not questioning who had brought it up already – and went to sit in his favourite chair. On setting the cup down on the table, he plumped the pillow before sitting, which was his saving grace.
"Morning John," Said his chair.
Jumping back in surprise, John searched the room, finding it empty of anyone other than himself. Wondering if he was finally losing it – or possibly still asleep and dreaming – he spoke up. "...Hello?"
"You okay, John?" Asked the chair, sounding a little concerned.
Blinking a few times, he realised the voice was indeed coming from the chair and he did in fact recognise it. "Rose? Are you... in my chair...?"
"Yep!" Came the merry reply. "What do you think?"
"A disguise is pointless if there is someone blatantly stood talking to a chair." Sherlock informed them as he made his way through the living room, heading for his own cup of coffee.
"Damn it!" Swore the chair, followed by a muttered grumble as it started to move, the young woman trying to escape from her hiding place. It seemed to be a little difficult though.
John simply blinked at the insanity of his morning so far, picked up his coffee and the paper, deciding – since Rose was definitely stuck in the chair for the next five minutes at least – he's drink his cuppa in the safety of his room.
Following the incident with his favourite chair John was on guard for the rest of the day, paranoia making him wary of any unusual noise, and unless Rose was in clear sight, he didn't properly relax until he went to sleep that night.
Having forgone the trip to the shop the day before – a little to convinced he'd find a flatmate in a dark ally or in the back of shop fridge, ready to jump out at a moment's notice – he had somehow decided that he was obviously too paranoid and would have to go to the shop sometime; it may as well be today.
Wary of every corner, any unusually dressed person, any shadow in his path, John found the trip to the shop one of the most stressful things he'd done in a while; including being kidnapped and held at gun point. Somehow, he found the young woman he called a friend to be more unpredictable than international smugglers or the American Secret Service. A strange notion to be sure, but very true all the same.
Making it all the way there and back – even stopping off for a spot of lunch on the way – John's trip was brilliantly uneventful, despite his being on high alert.
Shutting the front door behind him, he thought he'd put the shopping away and curl up on the sofa with a book. On coming up the stairs however heard a familiar click of a lighter.
Turning the corner – still on high alert for any sudden appearance of his friend – he was shocked to see the young woman lying on the sofa, arm covering her face as she brought a lit cigarette to her lips. Taking a deep pull, she heaved the smoke from her lungs with a sigh.
"Oh, Rose," John said with worry, wondering what had made her pick up a cigarette again since she'd quite for their last bet. "You were doing so well, what's happened?"
"Nothing, why?" Came Rose's reply – from behind him.
Jumping at least a half a foot in the air, John spun around to see Rose walking in from the kitchen, cup of tea in hand and confusion on her features. "Jesus, Rose! What the..." Trying to calm his heart rate, John spun around to see the unknown person on the sofa, sit up, arm falling to reveal a total stranger. "Who's this?!"
"Hiding in plain sight is all well and good," Rose explained, handing the other woman a ten-pound note before she left without saying a word. "But having someone else be you in plain sight is far better."
John's mouth just hung open for several seconds before he managed to gain his composure. "You're going to kill me –why do you keep scaring me?"
Rose just shrugged. "It's really not intentional – you just keep finding me first."
"Finding you..." John muttered, hanging his head as he accepted his fate for having started this in the first place.