John H Watson Blogs:
The darkest hour always comes before the dawn, dear readers, and true to form, just as I was giving up hope of ever finding an example of Sherlock`s lateness, help came from a very unexpected source.
As always, I welcome your comments (before Sherlock gets his hands on them, anyway).
The Case of The Tardy Matinee Idol
(with assistance from an anonymous source)
Sherlock Holmes is a genuine lover of music. He listens, appreciates and plays it, and can lose himself in the swell of a melody and the mood of a phrase along with the rest of us. Perhaps what separates Sherlock from many, however, is his inability to tolerate any music which is not contained in the very narrow limits of his choosing.
Classical - generally ok, but nothing by Tchaikovsky, Holst, Saint-Saens, Ravel and several other composers he regards as `too mainstream` or `derivative`. The list is not short. No pop, no hip-hop, no rap, no R & B, and definitely, no show tunes.
Although Sherlock would have everyone believe that he sprang, fully formed, from the skull of Zeus, or some other deity, it should be known that he does actually have a set of very lovely parents (hello Vernet and Miriam!) who do love him quite a bit. Strange, but true, and he is pretty lucky. Said Holmes parents quite frequently come up to town to attend various events, including concerts, plays and occasionally, even line-dancing festivals. As is in-keeping (and normal), they generally like to catch up with their beloved boys (hi, Mycroft!) at the same time, and encourage them to attend such events in the spirit of family getting together.
Lovely, yes?
Let`s go back, then, to a dingy September day, a few years back, when Sherlock received a visit from an unusual quarter; his brother Mycroft.
"I won`t be stopping, Sherlock."
Sherlock had his back to his brother (nice) and was scraping an irritating cacophony of notes on his Stradivarius.
"I know … counting on it."
"Hmm. I won`t be needing a cup of tea, thank you, Mrs Hudson – "
"No, indeed you won`t." Sherlock turned his least realistic smile towards his brother.
"You`ll be wanting your MoD pass back, then, I take it? Shame – it was so useful in Baskerville."
"Thank you, Sherlock. I am so thrilled you found the theft of important and highly sensitive government property so profitable for your – little adventure."
"Invaluable."
"Stop picking my pockets, like a Dickensian street urchin."
Sherlock smiles.
"I`ll stop when your pockets cease being so – useful. What else do you want, Mycroft? I can tell there`s something else – something you`re a little uncomfortable with – come on, have at it!"
Mycroft gives it up, steadies his umbrella and suddenly sits down in the nearest chair. His face is a mixture of discomfort, awkwardness and resignation. Very un-Mycroft.
"Mummy and Daddy arrive tomorrow at eleven. The matinee starts at 2.30. Interval at 3.45. You know what we agreed."
Sherlock`s face is blank, but internally, he is instantly sharing Mycroft`s fear.
The Lion King. Puppets. Disney Songs. Elton bloody John! Oh dear God…
Mycroft stands and adopts a firmer stance as he turns towards the door.
"You take over at 3.45. Do not be LATE…"
X
`Hakuna Matata! What a wonderful phrase
Hakuna Matata! Ain't no passing craze
It means no worries for the rest of your days
It's our problem-free philosophy…!`
The only worry felt by Mycroft Holmes at that moment was the growing urge to commit mass felicide, as the bastardised tale of Hamlet was played out with the help of the African Savannah and Disney show tunes.
Hell.
A glance over at his parents revealed wide eyed adoration, perma-smiles; coupled with eyes (his mother) brimming with tears. Mycroft understood – he quite felt like crying himself.
He checked his watch for the fourteenth time.
3.23 pm
As his phone vibrated discretely in his breast pocket, Mycroft Holmes felt the weight of the first raven, gathering at the graveside. An omen. A presentiment of badness.
Sherlock.
`Small problem. May be slightly late. SH`
Oh, this was intolerable.
`We agreed. You are going back on your word.`
`Unavoidable. Am in a predicament. SH`
`You are testing the few shreds of sanity and patience I retain. Do not push further, little brother.`
A hellish few moments of wart-hog/meerkat Disney banter had to be endured before his phone vibrated again.
`Am in jail. SH`
X
It seemed that commandeering vehicles to indulge in high speed car chases was only the fodder of Hollywood films, and not something the Metropolitan force took too kindly to. The owner of the Citroen hadn`t much cared for a near collision with a lanky, coat-wearing consulting detective who proceeded to rip open his door, pull him out of his own car and proceed to slam it into reverse along a busy thoroughfare to keep tabs on an escaping suspect. And all without an actual driving license.
And whilst Mycroft Holmes felt his brother`s methods could often be effective and his motives pure, on this occasion, he was surely justified in being suspicious of his Sherlock`s sudden and immediate incarceration.
Convenient; extremely so.
And, as The Circle of Life reached its grand, inspirational crescendo, he vowed that one day, in some way, big or small, he would adopt a very Scar-like demeanour, and exact a cold revenge upon his brother.
He could depend upon it.
X
The Case of the Tardy Matinee Idol
Comments: (18)
G Lestrade: Gotcha!
JHW: Oh, dear, Sherlock – Big Brother gets his revenge! You were late! It happened!
Mary Watson: Ha ha ha! Bravo to Mycroft!
Iceman: A dish best served cold, little brother.
Sherlock Holmes: Ah, Mycroft, you honour us with your presence on the Blog. So pleased you could attend.
Iceman: Occasionally, I do like to mingle.
Sally Donovan: Ha ha ha! Out done by your own family – I love it. Told you we`d prove you were late!
Sherlock Holmes: Technically, Sally, I was not late. I never attended the charming event, therefore I was absent.
G Lestrade: Don`t you bloody DARE….
Sherlock Holmes: But, as it is so important to everyone, and in a final attempt to bring this nonsense to a conclusion, I defer to your judgment. I was late. I apologise, Lestrade. Everyone has been late at one time or another and I am no exception. I will attempt to be more patient with the tardiness of others in the future. Happy?
JHW: Is that a script that Molly has written out for you?
Sherlock Holmes: I may have been offered some – advice.
Mrs Hudson: Well, I hope we can all put this behind us now and get on with our lives! Anyone want a cup of tea?
Sherlock Holmes: Yes. And a biscuit if you will.
JHW: Me too, thanks Mrs H.
Molly Hooper: That would be lovely.
Mary Watson: Hang on, are you all sitting in the same room and typing?
JHW: Busted.
X
A/N: I, personally, love show tunes, and if were John or Molly, I`d play them in Baker Street, every time Sherlock got selfishly annoying. So there.