Beauty and the High-Functioning Sociopath {#PFCC2k16}

The Hat

"The Geek Interpreter, what's that?" He asked.

"That's the title." John said.

"What does it need a title for?" Sherlock asked.

John smiled and continued to type. A few weeks later, when they were examining a corpse in the morgue, Sherlock asked a question that had been prying on his mind for a little while.

"Do people actually read your blog?" He asked.

"Where do you think our clients come from?" John retorted.

"I have a website?" Sherlock suggested.

"In which you enumerate 240 different types of tobacco." Alex scoffed.

"So no one's reading his website." John said. Sherlock glared at them both.

"Thanks." He said sarcastically.

"Right, so, dyed blonde hair, no obvious cause of death, except for these speckles, whatever they are." John said. 

Sherlock, taking more offense from the comments that John and Alex had said than they both previously thought, left. Alex sighed and followed him. She caught up to Sherlock.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry. I was only teasing." Alex said.

"I've gotten enough insults about me being different in my lifetime. I don't need anymore." Sherlock said. 

"Sherlock, I'm sorry." Alex said again. "Seriously, I am. I know how you feel."

"No you don't." Sherlock said. "I'm letting it slide, just so you know."

Once the case had been solved, John began work on the blog. While he was typing, Sherlock and Alex came in. They were eating breakfast. They looked over John's shoulder.

"Oh, for God's sakes!" Sherlock groaned. "The Speckled Blonde?"

"It sound's kind of dorky, John." Alex said.

They left and John stared at the words on the screen, letting his finger hover over the delete button. He decided to just leave it as it was. A few days later, two little girls came to the flat. Alex and John welcomed them in, but Sherlock wasn't as welcoming. Still, he wasn't being a complete jerk. Alex was a little concerned about the fact that they were here on their own.

"They wouldn't let us see Granddad when he was dead." The younger of the two said. "Is that because he'd gone to heaven?"

"People don't really go to heaven when they die. They're taken to a special room and burned." Sherlock said. 

"SHERLOCK!" Alex screamed. "What have we talked about?"

"Alex, do I have to?" Sherlock whined.

"Say it." Alex said.

"Oh..." Sherlock groaned.

"Say it." Alex said firmly. Sherlock mumbled something inaudible. "I can't hear you!"

"If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all!" Sherlock said louder. "Are you happy now?"

"Very." Alex smirked. 

A couple of days later, they accepted a case from Lestrade. Sherlock couldn't figure it out, so John decided to write about that one.

"No, no, no, don't mention the unsolved ones!" Sherlock said.

"People want to know you're human." John said.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"Because they're intrested." John said.