A Study In Living With Sherlock Holmes 14/22
Title: A Study In Living With Sherlock Holmes
Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone from the BBCSherlock universe.
Genre: General, Friendship, Angst, Drama
Warning: Slight angst, bit of language
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, with appearances of DI Lestrade, Mrs Hudson, Mike Stamford, Molly Hooper and others.
Summary: John Watson moves into 221B Baker Street after the events of 'A Study In Pink'. He had no idea what he would be in for, living with an eccentric genius like Sherlock Holmes, but if the first twenty four hours are anything to go by, then he knows he's in for a ride.
Word Count: 2,045
***************************
Date: February 21st, Day 22 Continued
Location: 221B Baker St
Time: Evening
***************************
John stares at the table.
"Sherlock."
"Hmm?"
"Sherlock!
"What?"
"We need a new table."
"Why?"
"Because of your bloody experiment!"
"What are you talking about..." John hears Sherlock trailing off as the man stands next to him. "Oh my."
The table is overrun with a red liquid that's bubbling out of one of Sherlock's beakers.
"It wasn't supposed to do that."
"The table is ruined."
"I'm sure it can be fixed."
"Sherlock."
The beaker then breaks, causing the entire table, and instruments on there to be covered in the red liquid.
"Well, that's not good."
John closes his eyes and prays for patience. When he opens them, he sees Sherlock rushing around to save his precious equipment.
All current good will that was left over from earlier is nearly gone.
"Are you going to help?" Sherlock asks in an irritated manner.
Most likely because one of his experiments didn't go the way he wanted, not because of the damage it's caused.
John doesn't want to help. It's Sherlock's mess.
He sighs and steps in the kitchen to help.
20 Minutes Later
"Well, there is some good news," Sherlock comments as John bins the towels.
"We need more towels now."
"Right. At least the rest of my equipment is fine... nothing wrong with any of them. I'll have to figure out what happened though. Maybe I left it too long or perhaps..."
"Sherlock."
"No, no.. couldn't be that... could it? I just put a little--"
John's patience is now gone. "Sherlock!"
"What?!"
"We need a new table now! This one can't be used. That stuff, whatever it is, is caked on there and dried. We need a place to eat on."
"We'll get a new one."
"You do know how much tables cost?"
"Oh stop worrying, it's just a table."
"Oh for God's sake, you are..." John exhales then walks past Sherlock, grabbing his coat as he goes to the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Out. I need some air."
"Might want to get another table while you're out."
John growls at that, and slams shut the door, stomping down the stairs.
"Dear, is everything all right? I heard raised voices."
"Fine," John bites out.
"Oh, had a bit of a domestic I see... I'll talk to Sherlock--" John's mood doesn't want to hear the rest of that, so he just quickly goes outside, shutting the door behind him silencing Mrs Hudson.
When the chilly air hits him during his walk, he starts to feel terrible about being rude to Mrs Hudson. John makes a promises to apologize to her when he goes back.
The thing with the table was just another one of those things. Earlier after that rather revealing chat they had, John found a severed hand in the fridge and another set of eyeballs in the microwave.
Then later on the way to the bathroom, he nearly tripped over some books that Sherlock had just lying about.
So by the time, the thing with the table happened, his mood wasn't the greatest.
It was moments like these, like the poor violin playing at three am, that drove John up the wall at times. He honestly does wonder if Sherlock doesn't realize what he does, or he purposely does it to test.
After a few minutes of walking, John spots a bench and he sits down, breathing in the fresh air.
His mobile rings, and for a moment, he thinks about not answering it. But...
"Hello?"
"Well, I was wondering if you were going to answer," a female voice says irritated over the other line.
John should have checked who was calling.
"Harry."
"It's hard to get you on the phone. Only time we seem to talk is on your blog."
Only way he can handle her sometimes.
"Where are you?"
"Home."
Good. Not at a pub.
"Look, Harry, I'm not in the mood for a chat right now--"
"You're never in the mood to chat. I'm your sister, John. I gave you my phone for a reason."
"Because you wanted rid of it."
"What?"
"Clara gave it to you, so you wanted rid of it. Not just because you want me to stay in touch."
"That's.. that's..."
"True, isn't it?"
She huffs on the other end of the line. Thankfully she doesn't sound drunk.
John sighs. "Sorry, Harry.. I didn't mean.. I'm trying not to be combative. Just a bit in a mood right now."
"Got into a tiff with your flatmate?"
"A bit yeah."
"I read your blog, so I'm not surprised. He wouldn't be easy to put up with."
"Sometimes, no."
"You should get a better place then. I told you, I have space."
No. Absolutely not. He wasn't interested in coming home to a place where he'd have to deal with his drunk of a sister.
"And that silence of course says that won't ever happen."
"You know why."
"I don't have a problem, John."
"How's work?" John sidesteps that landmine.
"Irritating. Thinking about quitting. Thinking about getting another job. Maybe move to London, be closer to you, yeah?"
Oh God no. His sister right now lives in Birmingham, about two hours away. And since he doesn't have a car, it's the perfect excuse to avoid seeing her.
"You have a good job, Harry."
She snorts.
"At least you have one." He says quietly.
"Still haven't landed one yet? Tried out a surgery?"
"Still looking. My hand..."
"I thought you said the tremor is gone."
"Most of the time.. it still comes back now and then, like that damn limp."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I." John clears his throat. "Listen, I think I've been out long enough. Going to head back now."
"Want to stay on the line with me while you do?"
John chuckles. "Whats this?"
"What? I just want to make sure you get home all right."
"I'm going to be fine, Harry."
Silence at the other end.
"Harry?"
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Be just fine. You're always just fine."
Not always.
"I have to be."
John hears his sister sigh. Her demons, whatever they were, are spinning about. Sometimes he thinks it's his fault. Harry was the troublemaker when they were growing up, so he was the good kid.
Good grades, never talked back, did what he was told, went to school, obeyed curfew, had the type of friends that didn't make his parents worry because Harry made them worry already. Talking back, cutting school, smoking... thankfully the drinking was hidden from them.. until she moved out.
So he was the good kid. It wasn't until he started training to become a doctor when he starting raising his own brand of hell himself. He just waited until he left home. So his parents wouldn't have to worry.
But he knew his parents kept on asking Harry why she couldn't be like her little brother. And John felt guilty.
Even though he knows it was not his fault.
"I saw Clara yesterday."
John winces.
"How did it go? Or did she see you?"
"She saw me."
"And?"
"It went."
"Ah."
"I'm an idiot."
"Yes, you are."
"Your supposed to say I'm not."
"Sorry."
"Why did I have to ruin it with her?... Don't answer that, nevermind, I shouldn't be saying this to you. You have your own crap to deal with. Like an insane flatmate."
"He's not insane.. not yet at least."
"No, he's a high functioning sociopath.... does he really not know the Earth goes round the sun?"
"Yes."
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"And he really doesn't know who the Prime Minister is?"
"Not important in his mind."
"Strange."
"Just the way he is."
"I'd like to meet him."
John feels a tremor of terror go through his body at that. Sherlock and his sister meeting? No. Absolutely not. It'd be a nightmare. An absolute horror of a show.
"But I know you'll prevent that from happening."
"It would be for the best."
"He already has an opinion about me doesn't he?"
"No." At least John doesn't think he does. "He hasn't met you."
"I doubt that would stop him."
"I really need to go Harry."
"All right. Stop avoiding my calls."
"Right."
"Bye John."
"Bye," he murmurs and ends the call.
Well, that went better than most. John stands and starts to head back to the flat.
Ten Minutes Later
John knocks on Mrs Hudson's door, so he can apologize.
She opens it a few minutes later, giving him a hesitant smile. "Hello, dear."
"Just wanted to apologize for my rudeness, Mrs Hudson."
She smiles and pats his cheek. "Forgiven. Now go back upstairs."
John chuckles and kisses her cheek, and heads up the stairwell. He enters through the side door and into the kitchen, coming to a stop.
"Is that a new table?"
Sherlock glances at John as he sets one of his instruments on it. "Mrs Hudson gave it to us. She's getting a new one tomorrow she claims."
"Ah.."
"Everything all right?"
"Oh yes... ended up talking to Harry while I was out."
"It must have gone well then."
John raises an eyebrow, but just watches Sherlock put more items on the table. "Deduced it, did you?"
"Of course."
"It went okay, better than most."
"Well that's always good."
John nods and takes off his coat.
"I have a case. Well maybe. We'll see tomorrow when he stops by."
"Oh?"
"A student. Something about his laptop melting.. I think. He had bad reception when we were talking. Also, sounded quite frantic."
"What time is he stopping by?"
"Two. Only time he has between classes it appears. Probably won't be much to solve, if I take it."
John takes a seat in the sitting room. The walk helped calm him down, clear his head. When dealing with and talking with Sherlock, a clear head is needed. Plus, new table. No money having to be spent on a new one.. not when they need to pay the gas board.
"Hey, Sherlock?"
He hears the sound of beakers clinking and then the man appears by the archway."Yes?"
"Did you and Mycroft ever get on?"
"Probably. Long ago.. when I was a child and didn't know the things I know now."
"Hard to imagine you as a kid..."
"Hmm. So was this question because of Harry's call?"
"I suppose."
"I recall you saying you and Harry don't get on. Never have."
"We have our moments now and then.. but yeah."
"You were the good kid. She was the bad one. Always causing trouble, so you made sure not to cause trouble. Didn't want to worry your parents."
John nods. Sherlock leans back against the archway.
"I bet you caused loads of trouble later though."
"When I was in medical school yes, I'll admit to that."
"You were away from home, so it was safer. You would not worry your parents with whatever antics you got up to."
"Correct."
Sherlock smiles, obviously satisfied with himself.
"So, Harry rang you up. You said it went better than most. Reminiscing perhaps?"
"Just talking. And then she made an awful suggestion."
"Which would be?"
"The two of you meeting."
Sherlock raises his eyebrows at that, looking disconcerted. "That would.. not be wise I think."
"I thought so as well."
"Be a rather interesting meeting.. but in the end, be best for all parties that your sister and I don't meet." Sherlock turns and goes back to whatever he was doing in the kitchen.
"I know why, but why do you think it would be best?" John asks curiously. Sherlock obviously only knows a little about Harry.. just the few things John told him.
"I like to avoid being disappointed. I already know the one Watson worth knowing."
Well that is...
Surprising.
NEXT CHAPTER
Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone from the BBCSherlock universe.
Genre: General, Friendship, Angst, Drama
Warning: Slight angst, bit of language
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, with appearances of DI Lestrade, Mrs Hudson, Mike Stamford, Molly Hooper and others.
Summary: John Watson moves into 221B Baker Street after the events of 'A Study In Pink'. He had no idea what he would be in for, living with an eccentric genius like Sherlock Holmes, but if the first twenty four hours are anything to go by, then he knows he's in for a ride.
Word Count: 2,045
***************************
Date: February 21st, Day 22 Continued
Location: 221B Baker St
Time: Evening
***************************
John stares at the table.
"Sherlock."
"Hmm?"
"Sherlock!
"What?"
"We need a new table."
"Why?"
"Because of your bloody experiment!"
"What are you talking about..." John hears Sherlock trailing off as the man stands next to him. "Oh my."
The table is overrun with a red liquid that's bubbling out of one of Sherlock's beakers.
"It wasn't supposed to do that."
"The table is ruined."
"I'm sure it can be fixed."
"Sherlock."
The beaker then breaks, causing the entire table, and instruments on there to be covered in the red liquid.
"Well, that's not good."
John closes his eyes and prays for patience. When he opens them, he sees Sherlock rushing around to save his precious equipment.
All current good will that was left over from earlier is nearly gone.
"Are you going to help?" Sherlock asks in an irritated manner.
Most likely because one of his experiments didn't go the way he wanted, not because of the damage it's caused.
John doesn't want to help. It's Sherlock's mess.
He sighs and steps in the kitchen to help.
20 Minutes Later
"Well, there is some good news," Sherlock comments as John bins the towels.
"We need more towels now."
"Right. At least the rest of my equipment is fine... nothing wrong with any of them. I'll have to figure out what happened though. Maybe I left it too long or perhaps..."
"Sherlock."
"No, no.. couldn't be that... could it? I just put a little--"
John's patience is now gone. "Sherlock!"
"What?!"
"We need a new table now! This one can't be used. That stuff, whatever it is, is caked on there and dried. We need a place to eat on."
"We'll get a new one."
"You do know how much tables cost?"
"Oh stop worrying, it's just a table."
"Oh for God's sake, you are..." John exhales then walks past Sherlock, grabbing his coat as he goes to the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Out. I need some air."
"Might want to get another table while you're out."
John growls at that, and slams shut the door, stomping down the stairs.
"Dear, is everything all right? I heard raised voices."
"Fine," John bites out.
"Oh, had a bit of a domestic I see... I'll talk to Sherlock--" John's mood doesn't want to hear the rest of that, so he just quickly goes outside, shutting the door behind him silencing Mrs Hudson.
When the chilly air hits him during his walk, he starts to feel terrible about being rude to Mrs Hudson. John makes a promises to apologize to her when he goes back.
The thing with the table was just another one of those things. Earlier after that rather revealing chat they had, John found a severed hand in the fridge and another set of eyeballs in the microwave.
Then later on the way to the bathroom, he nearly tripped over some books that Sherlock had just lying about.
So by the time, the thing with the table happened, his mood wasn't the greatest.
It was moments like these, like the poor violin playing at three am, that drove John up the wall at times. He honestly does wonder if Sherlock doesn't realize what he does, or he purposely does it to test.
After a few minutes of walking, John spots a bench and he sits down, breathing in the fresh air.
His mobile rings, and for a moment, he thinks about not answering it. But...
"Hello?"
"Well, I was wondering if you were going to answer," a female voice says irritated over the other line.
John should have checked who was calling.
"Harry."
"It's hard to get you on the phone. Only time we seem to talk is on your blog."
Only way he can handle her sometimes.
"Where are you?"
"Home."
Good. Not at a pub.
"Look, Harry, I'm not in the mood for a chat right now--"
"You're never in the mood to chat. I'm your sister, John. I gave you my phone for a reason."
"Because you wanted rid of it."
"What?"
"Clara gave it to you, so you wanted rid of it. Not just because you want me to stay in touch."
"That's.. that's..."
"True, isn't it?"
She huffs on the other end of the line. Thankfully she doesn't sound drunk.
John sighs. "Sorry, Harry.. I didn't mean.. I'm trying not to be combative. Just a bit in a mood right now."
"Got into a tiff with your flatmate?"
"A bit yeah."
"I read your blog, so I'm not surprised. He wouldn't be easy to put up with."
"Sometimes, no."
"You should get a better place then. I told you, I have space."
No. Absolutely not. He wasn't interested in coming home to a place where he'd have to deal with his drunk of a sister.
"And that silence of course says that won't ever happen."
"You know why."
"I don't have a problem, John."
"How's work?" John sidesteps that landmine.
"Irritating. Thinking about quitting. Thinking about getting another job. Maybe move to London, be closer to you, yeah?"
Oh God no. His sister right now lives in Birmingham, about two hours away. And since he doesn't have a car, it's the perfect excuse to avoid seeing her.
"You have a good job, Harry."
She snorts.
"At least you have one." He says quietly.
"Still haven't landed one yet? Tried out a surgery?"
"Still looking. My hand..."
"I thought you said the tremor is gone."
"Most of the time.. it still comes back now and then, like that damn limp."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I." John clears his throat. "Listen, I think I've been out long enough. Going to head back now."
"Want to stay on the line with me while you do?"
John chuckles. "Whats this?"
"What? I just want to make sure you get home all right."
"I'm going to be fine, Harry."
Silence at the other end.
"Harry?"
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Be just fine. You're always just fine."
Not always.
"I have to be."
John hears his sister sigh. Her demons, whatever they were, are spinning about. Sometimes he thinks it's his fault. Harry was the troublemaker when they were growing up, so he was the good kid.
Good grades, never talked back, did what he was told, went to school, obeyed curfew, had the type of friends that didn't make his parents worry because Harry made them worry already. Talking back, cutting school, smoking... thankfully the drinking was hidden from them.. until she moved out.
So he was the good kid. It wasn't until he started training to become a doctor when he starting raising his own brand of hell himself. He just waited until he left home. So his parents wouldn't have to worry.
But he knew his parents kept on asking Harry why she couldn't be like her little brother. And John felt guilty.
Even though he knows it was not his fault.
"I saw Clara yesterday."
John winces.
"How did it go? Or did she see you?"
"She saw me."
"And?"
"It went."
"Ah."
"I'm an idiot."
"Yes, you are."
"Your supposed to say I'm not."
"Sorry."
"Why did I have to ruin it with her?... Don't answer that, nevermind, I shouldn't be saying this to you. You have your own crap to deal with. Like an insane flatmate."
"He's not insane.. not yet at least."
"No, he's a high functioning sociopath.... does he really not know the Earth goes round the sun?"
"Yes."
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"And he really doesn't know who the Prime Minister is?"
"Not important in his mind."
"Strange."
"Just the way he is."
"I'd like to meet him."
John feels a tremor of terror go through his body at that. Sherlock and his sister meeting? No. Absolutely not. It'd be a nightmare. An absolute horror of a show.
"But I know you'll prevent that from happening."
"It would be for the best."
"He already has an opinion about me doesn't he?"
"No." At least John doesn't think he does. "He hasn't met you."
"I doubt that would stop him."
"I really need to go Harry."
"All right. Stop avoiding my calls."
"Right."
"Bye John."
"Bye," he murmurs and ends the call.
Well, that went better than most. John stands and starts to head back to the flat.
Ten Minutes Later
John knocks on Mrs Hudson's door, so he can apologize.
She opens it a few minutes later, giving him a hesitant smile. "Hello, dear."
"Just wanted to apologize for my rudeness, Mrs Hudson."
She smiles and pats his cheek. "Forgiven. Now go back upstairs."
John chuckles and kisses her cheek, and heads up the stairwell. He enters through the side door and into the kitchen, coming to a stop.
"Is that a new table?"
Sherlock glances at John as he sets one of his instruments on it. "Mrs Hudson gave it to us. She's getting a new one tomorrow she claims."
"Ah.."
"Everything all right?"
"Oh yes... ended up talking to Harry while I was out."
"It must have gone well then."
John raises an eyebrow, but just watches Sherlock put more items on the table. "Deduced it, did you?"
"Of course."
"It went okay, better than most."
"Well that's always good."
John nods and takes off his coat.
"I have a case. Well maybe. We'll see tomorrow when he stops by."
"Oh?"
"A student. Something about his laptop melting.. I think. He had bad reception when we were talking. Also, sounded quite frantic."
"What time is he stopping by?"
"Two. Only time he has between classes it appears. Probably won't be much to solve, if I take it."
John takes a seat in the sitting room. The walk helped calm him down, clear his head. When dealing with and talking with Sherlock, a clear head is needed. Plus, new table. No money having to be spent on a new one.. not when they need to pay the gas board.
"Hey, Sherlock?"
He hears the sound of beakers clinking and then the man appears by the archway."Yes?"
"Did you and Mycroft ever get on?"
"Probably. Long ago.. when I was a child and didn't know the things I know now."
"Hard to imagine you as a kid..."
"Hmm. So was this question because of Harry's call?"
"I suppose."
"I recall you saying you and Harry don't get on. Never have."
"We have our moments now and then.. but yeah."
"You were the good kid. She was the bad one. Always causing trouble, so you made sure not to cause trouble. Didn't want to worry your parents."
John nods. Sherlock leans back against the archway.
"I bet you caused loads of trouble later though."
"When I was in medical school yes, I'll admit to that."
"You were away from home, so it was safer. You would not worry your parents with whatever antics you got up to."
"Correct."
Sherlock smiles, obviously satisfied with himself.
"So, Harry rang you up. You said it went better than most. Reminiscing perhaps?"
"Just talking. And then she made an awful suggestion."
"Which would be?"
"The two of you meeting."
Sherlock raises his eyebrows at that, looking disconcerted. "That would.. not be wise I think."
"I thought so as well."
"Be a rather interesting meeting.. but in the end, be best for all parties that your sister and I don't meet." Sherlock turns and goes back to whatever he was doing in the kitchen.
"I know why, but why do you think it would be best?" John asks curiously. Sherlock obviously only knows a little about Harry.. just the few things John told him.
"I like to avoid being disappointed. I already know the one Watson worth knowing."
Well that is...
Surprising.
NEXT CHAPTER