Chapter 3: Wrong Song.
Half past six found Mrs. Hudson sitting down on her kitchen table and John nibbling at some of the Blue Chews she had cooked for her boys. It was amazing how that woman could take so much from the tenants upstairs and still be willing to offer them blue biscuits. Sherlock came down the stairs and through the door. He absentmindedly grabbed a biscuit and took the seat across from John.
"John, I believe is imperative that we talk," He said as he took a small bite out of the pastry. "About you and I." This had the other two occupants of the table raising their heads so quickly the detective was expecting some sort of whiplash to appear in the morning. Honestly what was so surprising about him wanting to talk?
"About you and I, Sherlock?" He turned to look at their landlady expectantly. She made a half shrug and encouraged him to keep going with a nod of her head. "Sure, what's on your mind?"
"You should go to that party with Jessika." He said matter-of-factly. It was a good strategy, he was glad he had decided to do this. John and Mrs. Hudson, both looked at him discombobulated, as if they were not following his line of thought, which was not a turn up, they got that look most of the times he talked.
"How exactly is that about you and I?" His voice was getting a bit higher, so he was making an effort not to get mad. Anger at this conversation, what a fascinating reaction; he should do research in mixed reactions.
"If you desire to have a sexual relationship with her, don't let me stop you." That was a good one, smugness was one of the traits John found attractive in him, right? Otherwise why would he praise him whenever he was acting as a show off?
Mrs. Hudson, however, didn't appear to agree with him. As she gasped and said, "Stop talking." It wasn't as if the landlady was nominated for sainthood, she had been married to a drug Lord after all. The detective could not see what the fuss was about.
"Shit, Sherlock! What the hell?" The Chew was officially abandoned shortly after, as he almost choked on it at his outburst. The lines in the blogger's forehead were starting to appear, which marked the beginning of an argument. Why was he reacting like this? Surely it should be obvious what he was doing.
"I mean, don't turn her down because of me." That should be clear enough for them to understand, but apparently he had over-estimated them, as the older woman repeated a slightly paraphrased version of her previous statement.
"Sherlock, I didn't say no to her because of you. And why are you suddenly taking interest in my personal relationships?" The waters seemed to have calmed down a bit, which was great since now they could finally make progress.
"Whatever you want to do in your intimacy is fine with me." He shrugged, and then proceeded to look the doctor in the eye, he should be able to get it by now.
"Oh, young man, please stop talking." The landlady tried, and stared at him with pleading eyes as if he was doing something bad. Wasn't she the first one that had seemed excited by the idea of the two of them together?
"You have my blessing to go out with whomever you choose, John." Sentiment, and showing him he could also care and acknowledge for his needs must have to be reassuring for his friend, in any moment now the soldier would be deciding in which restaurant he wanted to go to dinner. Although they all knew it would be Angelo's, he will be so proud.
"Oh for the love of God, Sherlock. Stop talking!" Mrs. Hudson raised her voice, act that had only happened a few times in the extent of all of their acquaintance. There was an impending silence that was filled with John's mobile going off. He cleared his throat and answered it.
He let whoever was on the other line speak before he answered. "Actually, the case is over." If he felt the need to impart this information it couldn't be Lestrade or anyone from his team, but it had to be someone who knew about it. So Jessika. The girl had impeccable timing, you've got to give her that, but that was the only thing that she was getting from any of the residents of 221B Baker Street. "So, if you still need a plus one..." Wait, why was John asking her that? they already had a date. Well, were in the process of planning one and would have already finished if she hadn't interrupted. "...Yes, Sherlock doesn't mind, not that I need his permission, mind you..." He couldn't understand the situation, What was John doing? "I'll pick you up at seven." And he hung up. He stood up and looked at the both of them, "Well, it looks like I'm going out with Jessika after all." And with that he bounced up the stairs to get ready.
This hadn't gone as was planned. How could he have read the event so wrongly? His blogger clearly was on the impression that Sherlock was encouraging him, pushing him even, to go out with her. As if he wanted her to have him, as if he didn't want John for himself. Stupid. Anger made its way through his veins, hot and scorching his limbs with rage. He turned to look at his landlady and she shook her head disapprovingly. So she had known John was surely taking this in a wrong light and did nothing. "Why didn't you warn me?" He nearly shouted at her in frustration.
She got up and grabbed a biscuit from the tray. Then, resumed to mildly aggressively stuff it in the detective's mouth and said, "I told you to stop talking, dear."