CHAPTER 33. HOUSE CALLS
"Dull!" Sherlock tossed his phone aside.
"Dull?" John looked up from his news paper.
"Yes John, DULL! "
"Right, what is so dull now?"
"Today, this morning, this WEEK!"
"Wait it's Tuesday how can the week already be dull." John knew he shouldn't ask but he couldt help it, Sherlock had him scanning the papers for possible crimes, so from his comfortable chair he eyed his agitated flatmate.
"Is it Tuesday?" Sherlock halted his pacing.
"Yes, Sherlock."
"It's worse than I thought!" he groaned.
"What the hell are you on about?"
"John! With Lestrade out sick-" Sherlock made a face as if the word sick had a disgusting taste to it. "Dimmock, more like DIMMWIT!"
"Sherlock get to the point." John murmurred.
"Well, officer Dimmwit is in charge and the man's an idiot. He's already texted me twice about a murder suicide."
"Really?"
"Yes the idiot thinks it's two separate cases when clearly IT'S A MURDER SUICIDE!"
"I take it he doesn't believe you." John caught something cross his stubborn flatmates gray eyes. "Sherlock? You did tell him that didn't you?"
"He'll figure it out, eventually."
"He'll figure it-? Sherlock HOLMES" John straightened up "Are you telling me that DI Dimmock has called you to consult on a case, one which you've solved and you have yet to tell him-"
"Something like that John. He called me on two separate cases, which any idiot can see are connected-" Sherlock paused seeing how John was standing now, hands crossed over his chest, lips pressed. He wasn't happy. Why was he upset? Well yes it was upsetting how stupid the Yard could be, but John usually was patient when it came to the everyday mundane dealings with-oh, that's it, oh John and his moral compass and do gooders heart, so exhausting. "You're angry because-You think I should call and tell him." A statement.
"Very good deduction Sherlock."
"But John-"
"Call him now." John ordered firmly, as retrieved his flatmate's mobile from the couch it had been carelessly tossed.
"But John it's his job-and it's not my fault he isnt competent enough to- John what are you doing?" Sherlock watched as his flatmate started scrolling through phone calls hitting a few more buttons on the touch screen. "Doctor Watson who are you calling?"
"Ah, hello DI, no it's Doctor Watson, yes that one from last night. Oh, kind of you to ask, my heads fine just a bit bruised, yes my ego as well. Right, I was calling because Sherlock wanted to tell you something, I know he is quite the eccentric, yeah I feel sorry for me too sometimes. He couldn't be bothered with the actually dialing of numbers, here he has something very important to tell you regarding the new case you're currently working."
"JOHN WATSON!" Sherlock hissed,
"Do it or get your own nicotine patches, and don't even think I wont have the British government shut down any store within the 2 mile radius that sells you cigarettes after you paid them off-"John held the phone to his chest so the threat wouldn't be heard by anyone except Sherlock.
"Hellooo Dimmock" Sherlock gave his fake smile accompanied by his best imitation of a pleasant and friendly voice.
John rolled his eyes hearing Sherlock's quick deduction, snapping a few answers back at the poor DI and demanding he never call again unless the case is at least an 8!
"Happy now?" he threw himself back onto the sofa pouting, John attempted to keep a straight face.
"So Lestrade is sick?"
"Yes, something like a cold or flu I don't know, don't care. Not my problem."
"Right, well I'm off to the shop. I need to deposit that check and pick up more nicotine patches. Did you want gum?" Sherlock didn't answer he only rolled his eyes irritably.
"I'll take that as a no. We do need milk and we are nearly out of beans." Sherlock ignored John as he was now rummaging through the cabinets making a mental list of food items. "I'll be back." John didn't hold back a grin as he pulled his coat on receiving no reply from a pouting flatmate. "Try not to burn the place to the ground yeah?"
~0~
John knew it to be a stab in the dark looking up Lestrade's address in the directory, but he tried. When that failed he called poor Dimmock who gratefully texted him the address with directions followed up with a quick text message, pleading for the DI come back to work soon as he is well again, preferably tomorrow.
It was a last minute decision, to make this stop. Based off of what what Sherlock had said to John a few week back, Lestrade's wife had left the man for a gym teacher. It wasn't John's business but he knew from experience being sick wasn't fun as a bachelor. The DI probably had enough friends or colleagues already stopping by to check on him, but John was out and it wasn't out of his way exactly. Besides he did have a bit extra for cab fare compliments Sebastian Wilkes.
Speaking of John wondered why Sherlock even needed a flatmate in the first place. This had nagged at him for the past couple of weeks. Did Mycroft hold Sherlock's Trust fund still? He could understand, it just seemed like a bit odd, seeing how Sherlock was doing so well on his own and being clean and sober for five years.
Checking his watch as the cab pulled up to a nice little house in a middle class suburb, he climbed out paid the cabbie and approached the blue house with the small white fence. He wondered then if the DI had any children, there were no toys in the yard, the grass was cut and remarkably green for the time of year. He could see flowers attempting to spring up from the flower beds near the stone walkway and the planters under the windows.
He thought of his own family home, Harry had said when mum was alive she'd kept flowers like this but all he could remember were the empty planters and flower beds, neglected. He checked the address once more before knocking firmly, after a few moments he could hear coughing from somewhere in the house.
"I's open!" someone yelled. John didn't understand why he suddenly felt uncomfortable; after all he hardly knew the DI, would he view this as an intrusion? Still John felt obligated, this man had helped keep Sherlock clean, a task that John failed so many times at. He could at least check in on the DI, besides Greg Lestrade did buy him a pint and hadnt pressed him about his history. The good Doctor came to a decision no turning back now, he straightened his shoulders and entered stiffly, like a soldier reporting to duty.