Spoilers: Hounds of Baskerville

Ch 24 in which our hero John isn't in the mood to yield.

John wasn't in the mood of yielding to Sherlock and his whims. He was so out of control lately that John decided to give up and just sit in his chair some.

There were newspapers on the pile waiting for him to read them.

Nothing of importance was happening. That made Sherlock mad from boredom but it also meant that he didn't need John, not really.

In dangerous situations, John was aware that he was needed to even out Sherlock's fast mind, to make him talk in normal speed, as normal as he could get, and to focus, to remind him of the human factor within those situations. He was useful there.

Now he was just an obstacle. Something that got Sherlock angry so he took a step back.

John wasn't bothered by his screaming. He was as dangerous as a hamster spinning his wheel in the lack of the open land to run on. John wasn't upset, he knew by now that a case will find them and Sherlock will be back to his normal self, preoccupied and amused.

For now, John just calmly went through his newspapers searching for something interesting enough to be worthy of Sherlock's attention. Sadly, hardly anything ever was so he offered no suggestions as he went through ordinary transparent murders, robberies and abductions.

A search of a cigarette didn't bother John either. It was just a way of seeking attention. He would make John angry often enough making him yell back at him. That was enough attention. Mr Hudson thought they had a domestic anyway.

There were at the point that it was useless in making her believe that John wasn't Sherlock's boyfriend. Sometimes he found it odd too. That would be an only sane explanation why he sat there withstanding a full blow of Sherlock's anger as it was a normal thing to be like that, yelling and insulting away saying every single thing that popped in his mind.

If he had thoughts that he didn't share out loud, John was interested in what would they be. They would probably revolve around some dark things related to Moriarty and his secret network.

That was probably the reason more for Sherlock to be unsettled by this calm in which nothing happened.

Then Sherlock put his laptop in his lap talking about the escaping rabbit. John was still trying to catch up with what he was saying when his tone turned to his normal serious self.

"Call Lestrade," he said seriously and John thought he was serious for a moment.

Then it turned out that he was just mocking about the rabbit.

"It's this or Cluedo," Sherlock said angrily and John got up to put the laptop away.

Some thoughts were best to be cut in the bud.

"We're never playing that game again," he said thinking of Sherlock jumping on his chair, shouting and insulting away when his solution proved to be wrong.

He wanted for the victim to be the killer.

"It's not in the rules," John was annoyed.

Cluedo was the game he loved to play. He was good at it. It was a game, it had its own set of rules and you were supposed to follow them. In the real world, Sherlock might be a genius, but in the game, John had won that round. It was below great Sherlock to admit the defeat.

"Then the rules are wrong," Sherlock shouted as always dismissing everything that didn't go in his favour.

The bell interrupted them saving John from going through the rules and why do they exist. He was tired from explaining the simple things but there was a tiny hope that Sherlock will embarrass him less in public if he accepts at least a tiny bit of them.

"A client," they both said with relief and Sherlock just threw away his gown.

John hated when he did that. Since the Buckingham Palace, John was acutely aware that his roommate sometimes walked around naked dressed just in a sheet. If he was ready to end up practically naked in the Palace that might happen here too. John was eager to avoid that opportunity if it arises.

Luckily, he just put on his jacket and John had to remind him that he was jumping around barefooted since he got back from the pig incident.

The client was a timid looking guy. Henry was likeable and it was easy to see that he's disturbed for real, not just for show. Of course, Sherlock was still on his adrenalin ride and John again had to be embarrassed by his behaviour. He went as far as mocking Henry.

John liked Henry more for getting up to leave. How many clients did come in here and just took Sherlock's mocking and insults as they were necessary not just random?

Then Sherlock turned on his deduction skills and Henry got back drawn back in. That was Sherlock for you spitting you out, just to draw you back in.

"Not now, Sherlock," John pleaded him not to show off and to focus on the case at hand.

"Oh, please. I've been cucked up here for ages," Sherlock fought him.

"You're just showing off," John tried to reason with him.

"Of course, I am a show-off. That's what we do," Sherlock insisted and John couldn't do nothing but let him and observe another passer-by watching him in awe and giving him a boost that he craves.

Like he needs a boost to his ego, it's big enough.

"Now shut up and smoke," Sherlock leaned forward and John was surprised by his intensity.

John tried to maintain the conversation asking simple questions Sherlock wouldn't bother with while Sherlock acted like a crazy junky sniffing the smoke of his cigarette. To Henry's credit, he kept talking calmly taking in the possibility that he may have invented the whole enormous dog story.

As Sherlock kept his interrogation, he managed to insult John between sentences. Bloody hell, John sighed when he mentioned his emails to his girlfriends. What was he doing in there? Wasn't anything safe before him? That was a subject that John had hoped wouldn't interest him.

Henry kept talking and predictably Sherlock came to the same conclusion John did. That it was an invented hallucination. Of course, he did it in his rude and careless way of not caring for his client in the slightest, but then things turned.

"Mr Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound," Henry shouted and suddenly Sherlock was interested again.

Not interested enough to stretch his legs, but enough to send out John to follow clues that followed nowhere in the middle of nowhere. He resisted but there was no way of denying Sherlock when he was on the case, even in a remote function.

John was ready to go, Henry seemed as a pleasant guy, it won't be bad for John to spend a few days away from Sherlock, but then again in a second, he changed his mind. Just as John took out a pack of cigarettes hidden underneath the skull, to prevent Sherlock from destroying the flat while he was away, Sherlock declared that he's going too.

"A twenty years old disappearance, a monstrous hound, I wouldn't miss this for the world," he said and went off to pack.

John packed a compact bag and waited for Sherlock to be ready.

"Off we pop," Sherlock was already at the door. "No time to lose, the cab is waiting," and he was already down the stairs.

Of course, Sherlock's bag was on the top of the stairs. With a sigh, John took it to his other hand and thought of how many times he went behind Sherlock carrying bags as Sherlock just pranced away assuming it'll magically appear when he arrives at his place. He wouldn't even carry bags of groceries even if they went together to the shop.

"I need my hands to think," he said once when John complained. "Besides, you're so good at it, lifting stuff, manly postures."

With that, he just turned away and went to do one of his damn experiments. What could anyone reply to that?

So off to the country.