Work of Fiction

Less Sulking; More Solving

Mycroft reluctantly walked out of their flat and lead the way down the stairs. The Holmes brothers waited for John as he locked up, and Sherlock hailed a cab. When John arrived, he glanced over at the corner to find it missing the blue box it held this morning.

"Thats strange. I could have sworn-" he muttered under his breath. However, it must have been loud enough for the older Holmes brother to hear; as he stood blocking the way between him and the cab.

"Could have sworn what- Doctor Watson?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"Uh- nothing. Nothing." He repeated to make even himself sure of his own observation.

"If you don't mind." He stated walking around him and getting into the cab, accompanying Sherlock.

"What was that all about?" Sherlock asked as soon as John sat down.

"I have no idea." He lied.

"That's unfortunate." Mycroft stated. "He saw the Tardis; but is denying that he saw it because it is no longer there. I don't know whether this is a good thing or a bad one. Athena- update their status and increase surveillance. I don't want them to be doing anything stupid. Do the same for The Doctor and his new companion."

"Yes sir."

Sherlock’s phone buzzed a few more times in his pocket before John received his first text of the day.

> Are you on your way here????

< Yeah. That important of a case?

> NO. I DON’T have a case for Sherlock. HE said tht he                            neededd Yard resources??? John wats this all about??

John didn’t notice Sherlock growing increasingly uncomfortable in the small cab; as each text was exchanged. After John received the latest text and read it over; he let out a very audible sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sherlock. I thought Lestrade had a case for us. Not you going to the Yard to get what you need for your case!”

“You never asked.”

“Sherlock! I shouldn’t have to!”

> John??

< .. Just if you can; give him what he needs today, and for the next month I’ll make sure he’ll be our of your hair for the next month. And only at the Yard when you call.

> I’m runnin out of hair John… But I’ll see what I can do.

“See like I said; they like you more.” Sherlock commented reading the conversation over John’s shoulder.

“You’re rude to them Sherlock.”

“Half of them are morons; and most of them- I don’t even know how they got into Scotland Yard in the first place.”

“Yes. Right, that maybe true Sherlock. But think about the timing!”

“Timing?!” Sherlock exclaimed, cocking his head rattling his brain for a connection.

“Yes Sherlcok! Timing! Take for example…” he paused thinking of the people Sherlock had been rude too; everyone he thought. “…Molly.”

“Molly?” He retorted.

“Yes, Molly! She does so much for you at Bart’s; letting you in after hours, letting have access to her lab; and you can be so rude to her. You could at the least thank her every once and a while. Or give her a compliment now and then.”

“Thank my mortician? For what? ‘Ah yes, thank you Molly for letting me use the dead bodies in your morgue. They are just going to end up in the ground otherwise! Oh and by the way Congratulations on dating the king of crime himself!’”Sherlock responded full of sarcasm, looking over at his blogger; full knowing he won this end of the argument.

John sighed and looked the cab window. His brows furrowed as a response entered his head; he raised an eyebrow and looked at the detective. “What about Lestrade?”

Now it was Sherlocks’ time to sigh. “What about him?”

“How many badges have you stolen off o-“

“Borrowed.”

“Pick-pocketed.”

“Misplaced.”

“A Felony!”

“Hmm. And your point John?”

“Why don’t you return them? He needs them back.”

“Why on Earth would I do that?”

“He allows you to consult Sherlock! He could take the Yard away from you completely. Start acting maybe a little bit nicer to him. Thank him.” John suggested.

Sherlock huffed and flipped his coat collar up shielding his face from John’s ideas. He turned to look out the windows as the cab neared New Scotland Yard.

John laughed at the figure sitting next to him. “You have one of them on you; don’t you?”

Sherlock didn’t reply, but twisted his body even further away from John and toward the window. He watched the buildings go by and slow to a stop as the cab pulled up in front of the Yard. As soon as the cab pulled to a stop the driver looked back in the rear view mirror. John wasn’t looking; but Sherlock saw his eyes flicker for a moment.

“That’ll be 12 pounds, mate.” The driver said, with a thick accent, holding out his hand.

Sherlock slowly retrieved the notes from his pocket, while keeping an eye on the driver, and slowly getting out. Cabbies were not his thing. “Keep the change.” He said as he passed the notes along.

The cabbie winked, and smiled; “Cheers mate.” And with that he drove off, not minding that Sherlock would obviously memorize his face, his cab number, and almost every single detail about him. After all who cared about this suit?