Deduce Me

Fifteen: Anticipation

Sherlock

Boredom. It always came back, like an old friend.

An old friend that I hated.

I flopped around on my bed, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. Not even hanging upside down worked.

"Jaaaawwwn..." I moaned. I think I even whimpered a little.

"Already, William?" John handed me a cup of tea, but I waved it off for now. It's hard to drink upside down, anyways.

"William??" I peered up at him. I hated that name; it's so... Ordinary.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Your brother mentioned it. I'm trying it out."

"I go by Sherlock for a reason..."

"I like 'William.' You should go by that."

"I really don't think so." Then I paused, thinking. "John H. Watson..."

"Hmm?"

"H. That's what's on your blog. What does the H stand for?"

"You read my blog?"

"Of course, John! Your life fascinates me."

"But... It's not really a blog, not really. I don't even have that much to write about..."

An idea struck me. "I should take you on my next case. You can help me out, and write it up if you'd like."

"I'd like that..." He grinned at me. I smiled back, then let my arms fall to the floor.

"Henry?"

"What? No. Shut up."

It continued like that all day, us being trapped inside. I tried not to think about that word... Trapped, nothing to do, bored out of my mind...

Luckily, I had John. He hated that I was trying to guess his middle name.

"Humphrey?"

"Shut up," he said from the kitchen, clearing away his lunch, which was provided by my brother, who claimed it was still way too dangerous to leave our room.

When he was in the shower, I paced about the room, fiddling with random things lying around. "Higgins?" I called through the door.

"Go. Away." Was the answer I received.

What the hell? He knew my full name. Why couldn't he tell me his? I searched around the room, finally finding what I was looking for right before he stepped out of the shower, a towel around his waist. I loved that look on him: the wet, touseled hair, his strong shoulders uninterrupted by pesky clothing.

He walked past me, leaning on the bathroom doorway, but doubled back when he saw what I was holding.

"That's... My birth certificate."

"Yep." I popped the 'p.'

He stared after me as I walked away, falling onto the bed again. This time, I rolled on my back to stare at the ceiling. I chuckled. "Hamish."

"Don't you dare, Sherlock. Don't you dare tell anyone, or I swear to God, I will call you Sherly for the rest of your life," he threatened as he got dressed.

"Alright, alright!" I relented. "Fine, no one will know... Hamish."

John sent me a glare, but I smiled at him tauntingly. What are you going to do about it?

He smiled back at me, unable to stay angry at me for any length of time, just like he can never annoy me for long. He took a few steps towards me, but before he could do anything there was a loud knock on the door.