“John Watson, I would greatly appreciate if you would stop interfering,” Sherlock growls under his breath.
Lestrade startles. “What? John’s not even here!”
“He doesn’t have to be,” Sherlock says. “Honestly, Lestrade, at least ensure the cases are interesting before you call me out. It was the gardener. His clothes were bloodied and he has changed, but the original outfit will still be hidden on the grounds. I’d suggest checking the shed.”
Sherlock whisks his scarf back around his neck and strides off, ignoring Lestrade’s request for more information. He’ll figure it sooner or later; he doesn’t really need Sherlock for this one. Perhaps Lestrade’s getting a little over-dependent on Sherlock. He’ll take a little break from the cases the police bring him for now. They can’t be getting lazy, or they’d become even more dull than they already are.
He spots a young lady at the end of the corridor and identifies her as the one he’d just made cry. Not his fault, nor his problem. He was doing her a favour by telling her that her boyfriend was cheating on her, really. If she’s all that sensitive, she shouldn’t have been so inquisitive about his credentials. Even if she had only had the safety of her friends at heart.
“John, you are insufferable,” Sherlock whispers.
“He’s not worth it,” Sherlock announces as he sweeps up to her. She jumps and opens her mouth to respond, but he barrels on before she can voice whatever insipid thought she has. “You are intelligent, charming, attractive and absolutely wonderful. Or so your friend here believes. I would suggest turning your attentions towards him, as he is far more likely to treat you with respect. If you will excuse me.”
He turns on his heel and continues towards the exit. “Wait, was he just sort of being nice?” he hears the friend ask.
“… Was he right?” the young lady responds.
Sherlock steps out into the sunlight and turns towards home.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2013-01-17 08:11 am (UTC)“John Watson, I would greatly appreciate if you would stop interfering,” Sherlock growls under his breath.
Lestrade startles. “What? John’s not even here!”
“He doesn’t have to be,” Sherlock says. “Honestly, Lestrade, at least ensure the cases are interesting before you call me out. It was the gardener. His clothes were bloodied and he has changed, but the original outfit will still be hidden on the grounds. I’d suggest checking the shed.”
Sherlock whisks his scarf back around his neck and strides off, ignoring Lestrade’s request for more information. He’ll figure it sooner or later; he doesn’t really need Sherlock for this one. Perhaps Lestrade’s getting a little over-dependent on Sherlock. He’ll take a little break from the cases the police bring him for now. They can’t be getting lazy, or they’d become even more dull than they already are.
He spots a young lady at the end of the corridor and identifies her as the one he’d just made cry. Not his fault, nor his problem. He was doing her a favour by telling her that her boyfriend was cheating on her, really. If she’s all that sensitive, she shouldn’t have been so inquisitive about his credentials. Even if she had only had the safety of her friends at heart.
“John, you are insufferable,” Sherlock whispers.
“He’s not worth it,” Sherlock announces as he sweeps up to her. She jumps and opens her mouth to respond, but he barrels on before she can voice whatever insipid thought she has. “You are intelligent, charming, attractive and absolutely wonderful. Or so your friend here believes. I would suggest turning your attentions towards him, as he is far more likely to treat you with respect. If you will excuse me.”
He turns on his heel and continues towards the exit. “Wait, was he just sort of being nice?” he hears the friend ask.
“… Was he right?” the young lady responds.
Sherlock steps out into the sunlight and turns towards home.