Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 30
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
*As always thanks for reading, a special thanks to all of you who take the time to review, comment, and favorite :)
Present day
Lestrade who had watched the entire display with part amusement, part terror; suddenly rubbed his hands together and sat down.
"Smells amazing as always Mrs. H. Would you pass the biscuits Sherlock," Lestrade asked purposely trying to annoy the man.
Lestrade briefly wondered if Mrs. Hudson was interested in a job at Scotland Yard.
Sherlock was never one for obscenities. His mother taught him to be a gentleman. However, today was special he thought.
Sherlock opened his mouth to impolitely tell Lestrade to "get it himself," but spied Mrs. Hudson raising one eyebrow and staring at him, arms folded.
Mrs. Hudson had seen Sherlock's expression.
Sherlock opened his mouth, thought better of it, then closed it.
He grunted but handed the basket of biscuits to Lestrade without comment.
"Thank you Sherlock," Lestrade said before adding.
"And the butter too, Pleaseeeeeeeee." Lestrade did not hide the smile.
Sherlock saw red.
"Would you like me to tell you where to put the butter…," Sherlock started, glaring at Lestrade.
"SHERLOCK!" Mrs. Hudson interrupted.
"Well he started it!" Sherlock said rolling circles with one hand in the air dramatically. This caused a grimace.
Sherlock was feeling quite sorry for himself now and did not mind showing it.
"Sorry Sherlock." Lestrade said somewhat chastened.
221B was the one place Sherlock allowed the wild horses of emotions to show. Usually, it was only with John and to a smaller degree Mrs. Hudson. But, today he was not physically or emotionally able to keep up the barriers once his mind realized that he was safe at home.
John had stood back and quietly watched the entire drama unfold with mild amusement. He now spoke.
"I'll get your pain medicine. The real ones this time, so you'll need food in your stomach." John said while walking to Sherlock's room.
He walked down the long corridor then entered Sherlock's room.
The man kept his room remarkable neat and uncluttered compared to the rest of the apartment. He was also meticulous when it came to his appearance. Designer suits every day.
That and their remarkable minds were the main similarity John thought the Holmes brothers shared.
John often wondered how someone as young as Sherlock did not even own a pair of blue jeans.
He walked to Sherlock's bedside and grabbed the bottle off the table. He stopped and looked around.
That feeling came to John again.
Something was out of place today, no several days.
John, for the second time that day, chided himself and ordered himself to stop being ridiculous.
Still, John did not move.
John turned and looked at the bed. Most people would be shocked to know that Sherlock Holmes tidied his bed every morning.
What bothered him about the bed?
It was the decorative pillows.
Sherlock never put the decorative pillows on his bed, Mrs. Hudson did.
She made it up three days ago.
Then why were the pillows still on the bed three days later?
Of course, Mrs. Hudson must have made the bed again today, somehow. The woman was a saint. Still, she was away most of the day, wasn't she?
John realized he was snooping.
Sherlock would probably deduce this fact by saying that he was gone an extra two minutes or something equally ludicrous.
John shook his head again and exited the room.