When morning arrived in London it was its usual damp self only the impending summer made it unusually hot and humid. The air itself seemed to fizzle and forewarn of an oncoming storm. As for the residents of 221 B Baker Street one spent the morning pacing while the other was fleeing. "Off to my sisters dear. I'll be back Monday. Try not to set the old pile on fire dear. I've just had my floors redone!"
"Go then." Her foul moody tenant bellowed. "Maybe then I'll have the peace I need to THINK."
As she left she held the door open for John Watson and the oh so charming Detective Inspector Lestrade. "Send me pictures dears, and do let me know when it's safe to return." The gentlemen nodded and smiled then headed up to meet the monster of Baker Street.
"Morning sunshine." Watson greeted. "Got any coffee made?"
"Mrrr." The moping man waved from his prostrate position. "Mrs Hudson was too busy leaving me to be bothered with preparing so much as tea."
"Oh my. England will fall surely."
"It may. Not that I'd care." Sherlock sniffed and rolled into the sofa.
"So... Ah." Lestrade rocked on his heels, "any developments in the case?"
"Solved it last night. It was the boring father. Unintentional poisoning and dull." Came the muffled voice.
"So no crime then? That's good for him." Watson quipped.
"Boring."
John and Greg looked from one another and Greg started nodding. The git deserved what he had coming. Moving into position, Lestrade moved to make the bold choice to sit in Sherlock's chair pulling out his phone to prepare to record. Giving a bow of his chin to Watson the smaller man moved into place.
"So, Molly stopped by the house last night." John spoke but was met with no response. "She mentioned that you had a bit of a rough day in the lab so she wanted to prepare something special for me to give you."
Rolling one shoulder over Sherlock peeked at his friend. "What is it?"
"Who knows. I only agreed to bring it since it didn't need to be transferred via a medical cooler." John says with a pointed look. "Do you want it or not?"
Sherlock debated a minute before flinging himself up in haste to reach for the small plain tube his friend held out. He held it in his hands and began twisting the top but then stopped, Sniffing at himself below the armpit once, twice and then sat the canister down. "Last nights run through the streets isn't wearing so well this morning. Showering. Now." He bolted upright and strode towards the bath down the hall.
"You're not going to open it? See what she has for you?" Lestrade asked.
"If it's from Molly, and not in a cooler then it's just a small tease. She'll want me to come in, no doubt. May as well get showered and dressed." He called on his traveling and from the bath.
Once the door closed, John and Greg looked from one another. "This isn't going to work..." The detective complained.
"No, no it will. Trust me just give it time." John urged. "This may be even better than we hoped."
"So does he realize that he's primping to see Molly?"
"No of course he bloody well doesn't. But he does it all the time. If seen him leave a Bart's once because his hair wasn't acting right."
John confided.
"She's still too good for him." Greg decided. "Always has been."
"Yeah, but she loves him."
"I never said the girl had good taste." They both shared a chuckle and waited as casually as could be for the 'prima donna' himself to return.
Not ten minutes later, Sherlock came out from the shower, water still clinging to his skin with his hair smoothed back and down and a towel wrapped firmly on his hips to find the men waiting and playing on their phones. "Oh you ready to peek now?"
"Yes, I thought it might help me know which shirt to wear. To see just how much is need Molly to assist me. You know how fond she is..." Sherlock pulled the tube open with a hearty yank and was met with a poof of fuchsia, purple and teal and gold glitters blew their way over his wet head and body. The mix of traditional and ultra fine glitter brought along with rhinestones showered up across his still wet chest and hair and all over the sofa and coffee table below. "...Of certain shirts."
Around him the voices of his once so called friends were howling with laughter. Lestrade positively cackled out an unusual high-pitched screech. "I got it! I got it on video-oooooh!" He jumped up and danced like he just scored a winning goal for Manchester United. 'Yeah!' He shouted and went over to vigorously shook a now crying Watson.
Out of the canister a small note floated and Sherlock grabbed it.
Dearest Sherlock,
You made such a childish mess with the slides in my lab yesterday that I was left to clean self. That really was messy, wasteful, annoying and time consuming for me to clean up. Therefore, it only right that you have your own mess to clean up. I've spoken to a good number of your associates (from Mrs Hudson to Billy Wiggins) and they have all sided with me. You will be cleaning this up all on your own.
So do think long and hard about how you brought this upon yourself with such disrespectful behavior to me while you're cleaning up MY mess. And then let me know when YOU've finished. I'll come round and inspect your work myself. Perhaps I'll have a real treat for you then. Or perhaps not. You were a giant ass today after all.
Sending my love to you with lots of squishy, sparkly cuddles till then, (you know I simply couldn't resist)
Molly XXX
Ps: Yes, I am aware that you may never wish to to me again after this and I'm fully prepared for this possibility. Nevertheless, should that happen know that I will regret nothing. Toddles.
"Hooper..." Sherlock growled, flinging the tube across the room and scattered even more of what in his opinion was the vilest substance to have ever entered Baker Street. Around him the click of pictures being taking sounded and Sherlock glared in turn at both of the men who were too busy crying their tears of laughter to notice the look they were being given.
"Out. NOW!" Sherlock roared and threatening.
"You sound like that dragon in that Movie!" Bellowed Lestrade.
"He's... Oh my God...He's even sparkly like one!" Came Johns high whine.
"Go now or I shall put you to work!" Sherlock commanded.
"No luck with that. We've had our orders. No cases till she says so either by the by." The men moved to leave. "Laters!" Cackled out John and the both laughed their way out of the building.
Sherlock turned and caught a sight of his reflection, or the shine drew his attention. There was no denying it: he looked a sight and this was an act of war against his person. An act that Molly Hooper of all people had instigated.
She's growing tired of you and your ways. It happens to everyone. They all have their breaking points. It's a wonder it took her this long. Sherlock's cheek gave a twinge at the thought. Molly Hooper wants nothing to do with you and your childish ways.
But did she? She had after all given his this test. Did she want him gone? If not then what did she want?
I just want you to say you are sorry, Sherlock. I deserve that small consideration. Don't I? He saw her in the lab in his mind holding a dustpan. Molly looked tired, vulnerable. Infinitely precious. Without her there'd be little chance of being able to use the lab nearly as often. True, though that the thought of St Bart's without Molly cheering it's halls seemed empty.
You deserve my respect. He admitted to himself. And an apology I definitely deserve an apology.
With that he set out to shower again and to begin to clean up the mess that he had made.