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The journey went quickly, which was unusual given the company Watson kept. Holmes was silent for the first hour and sat twisted in his seat facing out of the window, clearly disapproving of Watson’s recent behaviour. They were out of London and about forty-five minutes away from their destination. That was what his satnav would have said in the Queen’s voice until Holmes threw it out of the window at the first exit on the roundabout. The countryside whizzed past in a blur of green. The fields were empty and trees and hills rolled past. John sat at the wheel quite happily relishing the precious moments of silence until Holmes twisted forward.

“I’ve been thinking.” Watson rolled his eyes.

 “What?” he growled through clenched teeth.

“Do illiterate people get the full effect of alphabet soup?” John looked over at Holmes in disbelief.

“Wha..? No! How do you??” He shook his head and turned on the CD player. The smoky voice of Howlin’ Wolf crackled out in his American Blue tones as he sang Smokestack Lightning. Watson breathed deeply and shut his eyes momentarily letting the soulful harmonica and guitar take him away. Now it was Holmes who looked on in disbelief. He leant forward and pressed mute.

“There’s no need to be rude now Watson.”

“Did you just mute my Blues?” John said, his voice growing louder.

“It’s a perfectly rational thought,” Holmes went on ignoring Watson. “I mean if someone can’t read what’s to say that a letter based food is going to be of any assistance or amusement to them?”

“No it’s a stupid thought. You’re an idiot for thinking such a thought and how dare you mute my Blues.” Watson burst as he pressed the play button again.

“Don’t get so touchy.” Holmes said as he muted the Blues once again. Watson looked at Holmes with contempt. Clearly there was going to be a childish squabble which would probably result in the breaking of his CD player and multiple damaged egos. He could just ignore Holmes as he often did but the temptation to argue and emotionally hurt Sherlock was fine with him, his ego wasn’t as big. The bigger they are the harder they fall. He silently leaned forward and pressed play once again. Just as he was leaning back there was a click and the music stopped abruptly. Watson pressed play. Holmes pressed mute. Watson pressed play and Holmes pressed mute. Watson pressed play and Holmes pressed mute, Watson pressed play and Holmes pressed mute. Play. Mute. On, off. The stop start of the music made the previously calm and soothing voice of Howlin’ Wolf sound as if he was growing more and more impatient. Eventually Watson pressed play again to a dissatisfying click. He pressed it again, nothing. Then the words lit up on the screen, INSERT DISK, mocking him. John looked up at Holmes who was brandishing the disk gleefully.

“No. Please.” Watson whispered calmly. Holmes shook his head and held the disk in two hands playfully testing its flexibility.

“Please, Holmes put the disk down.” Watson sounded as though he was trying to disarm a terrorist which in effect, he was. Sherlock stopped momentarily pretending to think before shrugging and snapping the disk. That was it. Watson erupted, bellowing like a wounded animal he lept from his seat onto Holmes hitting him and swearing until he was blue in the face.

“Watson no! The wheel man, the bloody car you ignorant piece of…” But it was too late. The car spun out of control on the wet tarmac. It went off the side of the road across a ditch and slammed into something very solid. The car stopped joltingly separating both Holmes and Watson. The airbags exploded smacking the two of them in the face in a great puff of air. John crawled out of the car as smoke drifted across from its crumpled front.

“Oh shit.” Watson said as he saw what had happened. Holmes was just laughing. The car had hit a very solid metal post but also a cow. The animal lay stone dead with a look of confusion etched onto its face. John stood gazing at the mess and held a hand over his mouth.

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