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For dragonindigo - B is for Baker Street
221B Baker Street was an unusual place to be by most people's standards: skull on the mantel piece, microscope on the table, bullet holes in the walls, but it was home to Sherlock Holmes. It was there that he could just lie on the floor for days on end and no one would so much as bat an eyelid. Today however, was not a day for lying on the floor, today was a day for science. It was a slow day for cases, everything in his inbox was a 4 or less. He'd text Molly this morning to see if there was anything he could soak in a variety of transition metal salts, curious as to how the pigmentation of the skin would be affected, how quickly it would permeate and what would happen to things like nails and hair. He wrote down his preliminary thoughts on the matter in his lab book, waiting for the sample matter to arrive. He didn't have to wait long, there was a knock on the door downstairs, he was moderately disappointed that Molly had sent Tom (she had her own key- didn't trust herself to give it him, he doesn't know about it) until he thought of another experiment he could run along parallel.
"Mrs Hudson! Door!" He shouted down, he heard mutterings along the lines of her usual protestations,
"He's upstairs dear," She ushered Tom in and disappeared off to make tea. He made his way up the stairs with a cumbersome cool box, the instructions associated with which were simple: don't look, give to Sherlock and get out.
"Ah, hello Tom. What've we got today?" Sherlock was trying his best to be polite; he needed a trial run for something.
"I don't know I was told just to give it to you and go home, keep out of the way." Tom shrugged a nervous smile on his face.
"Can I at least offer you a cup of tea?" Sherlock knew he could be the perfect host when he wanted something. Especially if that something could be got via tea.
"Er, sure. What are you planning on doing with them?" Tom wasn't sure this was a good idea, but acquiescing to Sherlock's request seemed to be less dangerous than saying no to the man, he was a sociopath after all.
"Hmmm, fingers, good, arm, good, oooh, ear! She is good, I'm going to soak them in some salts and see what happens" Sherlock grinned widely, partially at his excellent haul, partially at Tom's obvious horror. Sherlock looked down at his watch, handing a hot mug of tea to Tom. They sat in uncomfortable silence while Tom drank the tea, Sherlock not moving until he heard the front door open and close violently.
John flew up the stairs and into the main living space of the flat, rage etched across his face,
"What are you doing?" John asked bluntly
"I'm getting to know my friend's partner, tea, that's what people do isn't it?" Sherlock flailed his hands about, as if it would make his point more valid.
"You aren't people." John said, as if he needed reminding
"I know," Sherlock grinned
"What's the alterior motive" John knew that face, that was the face that had ended up with him having unwittingly missed an entire Wednesday.
"There isn't one," the taller man shrugged, setting up the relevant glassware on the table.
"Has he offered you anything to eat or drink?" John turned to Tom, not having noticed the tea mug when he stormed into the room,
"Tea?" Tom said he seemed to be finding himself in far too many confusing situations involving Molly's friends recently.
"What did you put in it?" John asked Sherlock, who ignored John's question and looked down at his watch. Tom fell on the floor with a thud.
"Bit not good?" It was Sherlock's turn to be confused; John did not look impressed to say the least.
"Molly's going to kill you."