"Is this what you were looking for?" Watson asks amusedly, holding out a bundle of papers.
Holmes scowls. "Yes." He snatches the papers, then collapses into his chair and glares at the fireplace.
After a few moments silence, Holmes has calmed enough to ask a question he has been pondering for some time. "Watson?"
"Yes, Holmes?"
"How do you do that?"
"Do what?" Watson looks genuinely puzzled.
Holmes gestures with his pipe. "How do you know just walk into a room and know where things are?"
"I'm afraid I don't know," Watson replies, looking slightly embarrassed. "I suppose I can just remember where things are."
"That will not suffice. You can find anything I am looking for, even when I have- let us say- rearranged, the room. That cannot simply be a matter of memory."
"I truly do not know, Holmes," Watson says. "I believe it may just be a matter of knowing you well enough to know how you have 'rearranged' the room, and remembering things were originally. It is simply instinct and practice."
Holmes dismisses the subject with a wave of his hand. Though he is not yet satisfied with Watson's answers, he can see that the subject is making Watson uncomfortable.
"Well, it is remarkably useful at times, my dear Watson, though I must confess, it is also your single most annoying characteristic."
Holmes is very amused by Watson's look of surprise at that announcement.
"But Holmes, why?"
"Tell my Watson, have you ever had someone come into the room and find exactly what you were looking for within moments, after you had spent the last two hours looking for it? I can tell you, it is most infuriating!"
