Chapter 2 is up!
Written by my friend Christina Chang in Chinese, Translated by me, Maria J Ma
Disclaimer: How we wish they belong to us...
Summary: John gets hungry...and consequently very irritated.
I drew a pic for this long ago :ht tp: /saerwenapsenniel. deviantart. com/#/ d4t83fc (delete the blanks.)
Hope you will enjoy this chapter! And please review! One review makes both of us happy!
Chapter 2 Is It Funny To Watch Me Dance On The Keyboard?
"Sherlock, I need to eat." The poor doctor raised his head helplessly. He rubbed his sore back, stretched his stiff limbs, then stared expectantly at his friend, who, in turn, was staring at the laptop's screen.
"Sherlock!" John raised his voice.
But Sherlock still sat undisturbed before his laptop, typing words into a Word Document, then furrowed his brows and squinted at the screen.
John successfully discovered a distraction-it was actually quite interesting to dip the toothpick in the ink and use it as a pen to write. He laboured to stifle his fear and anger through most of the day, and when the warm light of the setting sun cast its shadows on the walls of 221b, it finally became too hard for him to put up with the starvation.
Now he was smaller than a steak, and obviously he could not eat like a ordinary person, yet Mrs Hudson was still not back, and Mycroft claimed that he had "urgent matters to talk with the queen" and then left Baker Street.
Why did they all forgot to feed-No, to prepare food for him?
"SHERLOCK!" He shouted loudly, desperately casting his toothpick aside and rushed to his friend. The change in size had definitely pushed his temper to a more easily irritated state, and it occured to him that he was unable to control himself from getting angry.
John looked up, waved at Sherlock's nostrils, but of course Sherlock was unmoved. He was still typing fluently and continuously.
So John marched forward, and stepped accurately on the "shift" key.
Sherlock frowned. A whole line of capital letters has appeared on the screen, looking as if he was yelling in the Doc.
He finally looked down at the small figure on the keyboard,"Remember you are still heavy enough to weigh down a key, John."
"I am sorry to disturb, but I am hungry, Sherlock." John felt that he was too close to Sherlock's nose, he was really not in the mood to view its insides, so he shuffled to another spot.
The cursor started flashing, as John stepped on the Space Bar.
Sherlock looked at the screen grudgingly, pouted like a small kid throwing a temper, and blew at John.
The poor doctor was almost flipped over by the current, and Sherlock, taking advantage of the situation, tapped the Space Bar.
Poor little John fell over on a sequence of keys, typing endless lines of meaningless words on the screen.
"Oh f**k!" John glared at Sherlock angrily. He put his hands on more keys to hold himself upright, "Have you just developed a new habit of blowing air at me?"
Sherlock's eyes swept over the accumulating chaos on the screen, the tiny feet that were on the keyboard, the tiny hands that were on the keys, the tiny body that was wriggling in frustration, and then, abruptly, a tiny smile brought a tender curve to his lips.
He smiled.
John was dazed for a moment-this was the first time Sherlock had smiled since his accident. Then he stood up obediently, took a few steps, and stood by the long fingers resting on the mouse. Sherlock was cleaning up the mess John just made, and after deleting those meaningless letters, the results of his work was finally revealed to John.
Fairy tales about shrinking man, fantasy movies about dwarves, cartoons that contained shrinking magic...Sherlock was reading supernatural stories against his original belief, and was even adding his own annotations at places.
John felt warm. Like how one would feel to come back from a freezing snowstorm to wrap a blanket around his body and take a gulp of fiery whiskey.
"I thought that I could keep you alive and well on a toothpick and some scraps of paper." Sherlock noticed that John was staring at the screen, so he closed the laptop swiftly, as if trying to hide his embarrassment, "But it seems that you are not as easy to be sent off as Anderson is."
John could've swore that he saw a affectionate smile for one instant.
The next instant he was plucked up again. Sherlock walked to the kitchen, opening the door of the fridge to look for some bread.
I will update when Chris does ;p
Sorry for any rushed grammar mistakes
Still, please review!