Sherlock squat in his chair with the newest of his gifts. Day five. This mystery giver was just that: a mystery. Even to the grand Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock sighed loudly and pulled the cigarette he was holding from his pink lips. He heard Mrs. Hudson's footsteps behind the door.
"Sherlock? Has it come yet today?"
"Mm." He grunted. Mrs. Hudson stepped into the flat and choked on the cigarette smoke. She waved her hand in front of her face.
"Sherlock, you're smoking up the entire flat! The alarm will go off!" Mrs. Hudson grabbed the daily newspaper off the fireplace mantle and started batting at the vaporous fumes. Sherlock rolled his eyes and promptly strode to the window, ignoring the back of his chair. He gazed out for a time, taking periodic doses of nicotine.
"What's the day…?" Mrs. Hudson wondered. "It's… the fifth in your little game. He couldn't think of anything better to give you then more nicotine?"
"Better?" Sherlock smiled down at Baker Street. "What's better than that?"
"Well, one's fine, maybe. But five?"
Sherlock kept his gaze out the window. "This way I don't have to dive into my pipe right away. I was trying to save that until Christmas."
"Whatever you say, dear. Where's the note?" Sherlock pointed to the kitchen. Mrs. Hudson walked into the messy kitchen and found the note amid the clutter.
Although it isn't good for you,
There's nothing I can really do.
Nicotine was always your thing,
Enjoy before the angels sing.
"If he knows you this well, wouldn't he want you to stop smoking?" Mrs. Hudson asked Sherlock.
"If he knows me this well," Sherlock broke from the window and turned to face his landlady. "He knows I won't."
"Thank you for smoking." XD
