December 12:th - People Can Be Weird
Sherlock played a Christmas tune on his violin, watching as the carpet slept (assuming carpets could sleep, as he was not an expert in the field of sentient household items) before the fire, and listening with half an ear to Mrs Hudson's pottering about in their kitchen. It was for her benefit, of course, he played such an inane tune instead of some nice, pleasant Bach.
John had been in an awful mood lately, and it worsened every time he came back from a date with those awful girlfriends of his. Where did he find such uninspiring specimens of the human female form, anyway? So boring!
As the bow came to a screeching halt on the strings of his violin with this thought, he caught a line from Mrs Hudson's conversation with someone over the phone, a line which made him set the violin down and listen closely. "...is very kind of it, Doctor. Has it told you more about the man? Oh, you met the good doctor yourself, Doctor? What's he like?" She seemed to listen for almost a minute, and then exclaimed "oh how sweet! He would be more than welcome here, I am sure. No, Doctor Watson is a sweet boy, he would be good for anyone! Sherlock, of course, is quite a personality, but he is a wonderful boy at heart, too!"
Staring at the door, Sherlock ran through possibilities in his mind. Mrs Hudson was speaking to a doctor, about another doctor, and neither one of them were John. John would be puzzled at this point, of course, and half-heartedly jump to the completely wrong conclusion, but Sherlock was not a normal person, content with a boring little mind. His mind saw possibilites.
It helped, naturally, that Sherlock knew very well how much more there was to Mrs Hudson compared to what people thought. Sometimes, he was amazed at how John didn't see it. How she was almost as calm as either of them would be when held at gunpoint. How nothing at all baffled her (though she didn't like thumbs in the fridge) and how, most telling of all, a flying carpet appearing in the flat one day didn't even surprise her. Sherlock had even caught her talking to it. He suspected she had been the one to bring it there in the first place.
As he tenderly put the violin back into its case, he felt more than saw or heard how the carpet started to come to, flying up beside him like an eager dog. It reminded him of Redbeard, but not in a bad way. He had missed the quiet companionship of a kind John couldn't provide.
Returning to the fireplace, carpet in tow, Sherlock reached out for a box he'd gotten earlier, and dropped the pile of dominoes onto the carpet, smiling with unusual sincerity as he saw it perk up at the game. It was... pleasant.
Bach is rather dramatic and playing him on a violin would require quite s bit of swooping, so I'd imagine Sherlock would like him! Mrs Hudson, of course, enjoys the pretty and seasonal more, and while he hates to admit it, he is a softie really!
I had way too fun with using the overusing the title doctor for most everyone in this chapter!
I do not own anything you recognise - I don't even know where some of it is from!
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