Intellect. (A BBC Sherlock Fan Fiction)

Intellect- SIX

Intellect.

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SIX.

'ATCHOO!'

'God, Sherlock. D'you have to be so loud?' John complained, running a hand over his sandy coloured hair.

'I cannot help the volume at which I sneeze, John. You're a doctor, what's wrong with me?' Sherlock asked his flatmate hurriedly.

'I can't tell, Sherlock. You've only sneezed twice,'

'Yes, but I never sneeze. Never!'

'Look, just sit down. Stop pacing the room. Eleanor will be here soon; we want to talk to you about Amy,'

'Oh for...'

It had been two days since the Experiment Incident, and neither Amy nor Sherlock had looked at each other, let alone spoken.

Amy had not set foot in flat 221B, and thus- the flat had reverted to it's old ways. Dusty; dirty; books thrown everywhere.

Not that Sherlock minded. He thought of it as organised chaos, and he liked it that way.

A knock on the door told them Eleanor had arrived. John courteously opened the door for her.

'Morning- Oh! What is that stench?!' She greeted as she stepped into the flat, wrinkling her nose in disgust. 'Did something die in here?'

'Yes, Sherlock's dignity. We've been looking for it for days, but it must have crawled away and died,' John half-joked. 'No, actually, it's a new "experiment" of his,'

'Of what?'

'There's an arm in the microwave with a rather furry, mouldy sock that I suspect hasn't been washed since it was bought,'

'That's horrible,'

'Yes, and I am still in the room, thank you!' Sherlock interrupted, looking like an annoyed five-year-old.

'Alright, don't get your prissy little knickers in a twist!' Eleanor teased.

'Shut up,' Sherlock bit back, falling down into his chair with a loud sneeze. 'John, it's not normal!' he whined.

John sighed. 'You really are in child mode today, aren't you?'

'Rhetorical question. I don't have to answer it,' Sherlock replied smugly.

'Okay, can we get to the matter at hand please?' Eleanor input.

'Ah, yes. Amy,' John said.

'She doesn't feel safe anymore, like you're going to attack her if she steps out of the flat. Y'know, to avenge your experiments,' Eleanor told Sherlock. 'Look, I have the greatest sympathy for your experiments, I really do, I know what it's like to have them ruined, but you don't have to react in the way that you did if something goes wrong!'

'Nothing went wrong- the idiot girl threw them away!'

'Maybe if you had better care of them, or told Amy what they were, then she wouldn't have touched them. It's really your fault,' Eleanor retorted.

'Sherlock, you should apologise. And mean it,' John said sternly.

'Why should I apologise? She was the one doing wrong! And I'm sick of repeating that!' Sherlock said, rubbing his forehead as he felt an oncoming headache arise.