Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 81
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.
"I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter." ~ Winston Churchill
Present Day
Thirty minutes later and both men were satisfied. John thought it was best not to mention that Sherlock had practically licked the bowl clean.
John thought about how Mrs. Hudson was good for Sherlock, for them both really. Sherlock was underweight when they had first met. Now he was at a proper weight. John had even noticed that he had lean muscles everywhere on his body, not that he would say he noticed, people would talk, and they talked enough.
"John you're staring," Sherlock said without opening his eyes.
"Oh sorry," John looked at the wall.
Sherlock sighed then opened his eyes. "So when do I get released from this prison?"
John rolled his eyes. "Later this evening, Sherlock. I think the doctor wants to give you half a liter more fluid for dehydration and that's it."
"Oh thank the Lord!" Sherlock almost shouted as he raised both hands dramatically.
"Um John, I'll need some clothes; it seems that my clothes have disappeared, and this bloody hospital gown is too short. Don't they know that tall people wear gowns too?" Sherlock was aggravated.
John was unusually quiet. "Yes, um, Lestrade volunteered to bring it when he comes this afternoon. It was accidentally taken when you first came in." John found the article in the newspaper particularly interesting today and moved the paper directly in front of his face.
Sherlock's eyes narrowed then he gasped.
"John Watson, care to explain why you're tapping your left foot? You only do that when you're trying to unsuccessfully cover-up guilt." Sherlock was not a happy man, again.
"I do not know what you are referring to," John stopped his foot from tapping suddenly but still hid behind the newspaper, "I'll just go and see what progress is made on your discharge." John motioned to get up.
"SIT!" Sherlock said firmly as he pushed the paper down with one hand.
"John?" Sherlock asked.
John said nothing but stared back almost innocently. Almost.
Sherlock looked him up and down then his eyes widened as his mouth opened slightly.
John concentrated on making his face blank, unfortunately, his left foot started tapping nervously again without him noticing.
"How could you?" Sherlock practically growled.
"I don't know what you're talking about. And, neither does Lestrade. Oh… and neither does Mrs. Hudson." John crossed his arm. He then noticed his foot and stopped it from tapping.
Sherlock almost jumped out of bed but luckily remembered that he could not without exposing certain parts that his mother once taught him should not be exposed.
Sherlock growled, "You wanted to keep me here last night, so that I would not sneak out!"
"You were about to sneak out last night?" John suddenly had an excuse to turn the tables.
"Yes…, No…, I mean…, Don't change the subject!" Sherlock was flustered.
John looked proud.
"Don't be tetchy Sherlock, Lestrade is on his way with your clothes; I suggest you stay under those sheets in the meantime, unless you want to expose your family jewels to the world."
John picked up the paper and resumed reading, ignoring Sherlock's death dagger stare. At least he wanted Sherlock to believe he was reading. In reality, behind the paper, John had a face-splitting grin. He bit his lip in an effort to keep from laughing.
Yes, Sherlock was predictable.
**Irritable would be a nice definition for tetchy**