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John woke up to a sore back and a bright light coming through the window. It took him a minute to remember why. John sat up, stretched a bit, then looked around. He expected to find Sherlock in the middle of some crazy experiment. However, there was no Sherlock anywhere to be seen.
He couldn't possibly still be asleep. John thought, slightly concerned. He got up and checked Sherlock's room. Sure enough, no detective. John came out and checked to see if Sherlock's coat was still hanging up by the door. It was missing.
Where could he possibly be?! Surely he would have woken me up if a new case had come up.
John hurried up to his room to check his phone for a message from him. None. John decided to wait a bit longer before he really started worrying, and went downstairs to make some tea. Before the kettle could whistle, the door downstairs opened.
"Sherlock!" John called as he rushed around the corner to see if it was indeed the detective who was coming in. There he was surprised to see Sherlock surrounded by several grocery bags.
Sherlock never goes grocery shopping...?
"I noticed that we were out of a few things, so I went to the store." Sherlock said with a smile.
"What caused this," John asked smirking "you've had me fetch your phone out of your jacket pocket so that you could send a text, while you were wearing the jacket. And now you're going and getting groceries for us?"
"I am quite capable of doing things for your convenience, John," Sherlock half-teased, "I am not useless." Sherlock let a little bit of pout show on his face to try and persuade John of this. John just smiled and said "Here, let me help you with these."
Sometime after they had finished putting up the groceries, and John had made his tea, Sherlock received a call.
"Yes, what do you want Lestrade? A murder! Yes we will be there soon- Come along Watson!"
Sherlock whirled out of the room in a flurry of coat and scarf. John hurriedly grabbed his gun and coat, and followed suit. John had just locked the door to 221B when Sherlock boomed "Taxi!"
John marveled at how magnificently low Sherlock's voice was. It went well with his tall, skinny figure, and lovey cheekbones.
Stop that John, he mentally chastised himself for thinking of Sherlock in that way. Sherlock was his male flatmate. Not only that, but Sherlock was just so, weird. But at the same time, so very amazing. John could not fathom how the detective's mind could figure out half the things it did, or how Sherlock could say some of the things he did. Despite the bad, John felt all the good outweighed the bad, and while John was put-off by Sherlock's rudeness, John had come to be quite fond of the incredible man.
When the cab pulled up, Sherlock climbed in first and told the cabbie where to go before John got in.
"Where are we going?" John asked.
"To the crime scene John, weren't you listening?" Sherlock joked.
"Very funny." John muttered as he rolled his eyes. The rest of the ride passed in silence.
They pulled up to a seedy looking hotel on the outskirts of London. Sherlock practically leaped out of the cab. John chuckled at Sherlock's eagerness. It was another one of those endearing characteristics he had. Always so eager to solve the next case. Sherlock could have done s many things with his high intelligence, but Sherlock had chosen to do something important: he chose to solve the unsolvable, put families at peace, and he helped prevent evil do-ers. He helped people, just as John did.
I guess we have more in common than I thought. That is a scary thought John sniggered at this thought as he followed Sherlock's example in getting out of the cab. By the time Watson had paid the cabbie and made it over to Lestrade, Sherlock was fuming.
"You called me over for something so simple?! How idiotic are you! Don't answer that was rhetorical, we all know you're an idiot." Sherlock sneered.
"Well I'm sorry for wasting your time, Your Royal Genius! Next time I'll make sure the case is unsolvable before we call. Say how is that one case about the aluminum crutch going?hmm?" Lestrade angrily retorted.
"Come on John-we are !" Sherlock shouted.
Confused, Watson followed close behind Sherlock.
"Mind telling me what happened there Sherlock? Why we drove all the way over here, only to go and leave?"
"Yes." Sherlock huffed. John rolled his eyes, but remained silent as he got back into the cab with the irritated man. Most of the car ride passed in silence until-
"She smelled heavily of cleaning supplies, died by drowning in dirty water, and was last seen with the head of the cleaning staff, how much more obvious can you get?"
"How does drowning fit? There's not a body of water close." John questioned.
"Think John! Use that brain, it gets so little exercise! Mop water!" Sherlock said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Lestrade said he called me in as soon as he got the case, so that I wouldn't waste any time. He just assumed that i had nothing else to do, and would not be wasting my time by coming down here."
"But, Sherlock, you weren't doing anything.." John pointed out.
"That is beside the point." Sherlock grumped. The ride was silent once more until a few minutes later when-
"Yes, what do you want now Lestrade? Better be more interesting than the last one. A missing painting? Boring. Its called the Reichenbach Falls?...