Sherlock
"John, you just don't understand what I'm trying to do here."
"What? Blow up the flat?"
"NO!"
"Explain why there is glass all over the floor and we're standing on the couch until Mrs. Hudson comes home to clean it up?" I ponder this for a moment. How to explain?
"Well I was just trying to-"
"Save it Sherlock. Save it for Mrs. Hudson. I'm going to be murdered! I'm missing the third date in a row because my shoes are by the door and the floor is covered with glass. What the Hell were you thinking? Did you honestly think that was a good idea?"
"No..."
"Then why did you do it?"
"Because-"
"I don't even care Sherlock. I don't even care." John sits down on the couch drawing his legs up to his chest, shooting me nasty looks the entire time. He pulls out his phone and starts a text message.
"Look, I'm sorry alright?"
"Yeah."
"I called Mrs. Hudson, she said she'd be in by eleven."
"That's too late Sherlock!"
"Sorry." Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to accidentally on purpose blow up that beaker. Luckily John and I were already on the couch when it shattered and we only suffered a few cuts.
"No you aren't. You knew full well what was going to happen."
"That's only partly true John. It's called an experiment for a reason. I thought it might happen, not that it would."
"You are so selfish. Do you not care that I have a life?"
"John! That's cold."
"No Sherlock. It's not. You seem so eager to destroy my relationship with Sarah, how far am I off the mark?" Not very far, not far at all.
"Completely off. I don't want to sabotage your relationship, I just don't like you leaving me in the flat on Saturday nights, BY MYSELF."
"Then maybe you should get a girlfriend." He mumbles under his breath, knowing full well that I can hear him and that I will deny everything he says. He knows that I don't get on well with people.
"You know why I don't have a girlfriend. I don't have the time or the patience for that kind of thing. Just call Sarah and let me talk to her. She'll understand."
"What, so we're just going to sit here all night waiting for Mrs. Hudson to rescue us?"
"Either that or you brave the merciless glass covered floor. I would go, but my shoes are in my room. I've taken to walking around in socks. I don't know why..." Why have I been wearing socks lately? The world may never know.
"Sherlock." He groans, putting his head in his hands, "Why do I still live here?"
"Because-? Why do you stay here?" He looks at me,
"That was a rhetorical question Sherlock." Oh.
"I knew that."
"Sure you did."
"I did!"
"Yeah. Uh huh. And I'm a huge celestial body of gas."
"What?"
"Never mind Sherlock. Never mind."
"You're upset that I made a mess aren't you?"
"Well of course I'm upset."
"Sorry."
"Again with that word. I don't think you know when to use it!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" He shakes his head. Maybe he's over reacting a little bit. It wasn't on purpose, I didn't mean to blow that beaker up and he's blaming me for his "ruined" evening. I think it's just a bit more entertaining now.
"I know you aren't sorry."
"That's not exactly true. If I had known you were going to get this upset about it I wouldn't have planned it."
"So you did plan it!" He's accusing me now. Great.
"Yeah, so what if I did?"
"You know if you want to do something, all you have to do is ask."
"Well there's nothing to do, so there's no point in asking is there?"
"That doesn't mean you can't ask me not to go out!" It's going to be a long night.
Eleven Thirty at night.
The door to the flat eases open and a very cautious Mrs. Hudson enters the flat, glass crunching under her shoes.
"Sherlock?" She whispers. The lights are on, but there is a still sort of silence about the rooms. Creepy. Receiving no answer she calls out again, a little louder, "Sherlock?" The silence that follows is suddenly broken by a loud snore coming from the direction of the couch. Mrs. Hudson turns toward the sound. Sherlock is draped over John's lap, fast asleep, mouth open slightly against the arm of the couch. John looks up and puts a finger to his mouth, motioning for her to be quiet. She manuvers as quietly as she could to the couch,
"It took forever for him to wear himself out. He's only just fallen asleep. Thank God you've come. My shoes are by the door, I'd like to clean up this mess he made." Mrs. Hudson smiles and retrieves his shoes, placing them on the arm of the couch. "Thanks Mrs. Hudson. You're a star." Sherlock shifts in his lap a bit and John sighs. "You know what, this mess might have to wait till tomorrow to be cleaned up." She smiles and nods and retreats. John sighs and ruffles Sherlock's hair, "You git. You planned this whole thing didn't you?" Sherlock smiles and replies without opening his eyes,
"Of course I did. Now shut up and let me sleep."
Hey guys. Change in plan. Forty chapters alone. I'm sorry. I've just got this brilliant idea and it will be brilliant and there will be another set of chapters. I haven't worked out a title yet, but you should go looking for it around Tuesday or Wednesday. It's going to be awesome, just so you know.
Love you all. Have a great weekend.
Until Gallifrey is free, And the last Chapter is up,
Time Lord Victorious