Content
For Sherlock, it felt like the hateful and boring lull since his return to London might never end. The chase through its streets to save an old lady her handbag had been just a small glint of the true power and control of the criminal underclass, but damn it all if they hadn't run to ground at the mention of Sherlock Holmes and his miraculous return from the dead.
The hoax e-mails had been a running joke between John and himself to begin with, but now Sherlock saw it as plain rudeness and he got very angry indeed with a number of them he got a day, sending long winded replies before John just closed the laptop lid and said in a gentle manner that one shouldn't feed the trolls.
Infuriatingly… John was right.
But after sifting through the spam, Sherlock would find a little hope in some of the ones left over. Nothing above a 4 as of yet, but it was getting there. Just infuriatingly slowly for his quick paced mind. There really was only so much sudoku a man could do before going out of his mind.
It came like a hail storm, great long e-mails that were no longer about missing cats, but about missing people and Sherlock snapped up anything above a 6 with a great glee. It made him brighten, become more amenable with John for a start, and soon even Mrs Hudson was getting her usual peck on the cheek and hug before he went rushing off on a case.
John tagged along as often as he could, still weighed down by a lot of the turmoil with what had happened, still trying to rebuild his life after near disaster. He was soon picking up the pace though, the moaning of being 'too old' fading to just a little gripe every now and then when Sherlock would take a set of stairs three at a time. He instead bemoaned his short legs and often took the lift instead.
It felt as if life was getting back to normal now. The past was done, it was another country, another world almost. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were a team again, slotting back into their rightful places with comparative ease, like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle or cogs in a clock.
Sherlock was over the moon, John was happy. Life at Baker Street was perfect again. It had been through its winter and tentative spring, now it was blooming with the heavy blossom of summer.
