At Wit's EndCrash
"Ugh, what on earth is he doing now?"
"I swear, it's like living with a herd of wildebeest."
"Well, I can't say I wasn't warned."
"That does it!"
"What are you doing to my walls?!"
"Enough! Can't you find something else to do?"
"'Something else'? The criminal element of London has apparently gone into hibernation, the Watsons are on holiday-"
"I haven't had an interesting case in ages, and I'm at my wit's end!"
"You're not the only one! Now put that thing away, and repair my walls."
"Sherlock Holmes, if you don't stop this instant, I may just-"
"What, evict me?"
"I may just take you over my knee and tan your bottom!"
"I beg your pardon?!"
"In fact, I'd say you're long overdue for that, wouldn't you agree?"
"...Er, you know, there is that mold experiment I've been
Silent TreatmentIt was a quiet evening in 221b. That is, until Sherlock came barreling into the flat, ignoring John who was busy typing up his blog. He tossed aside his coat, and began rifling through the post.
"Boring, boring, dull..." he murmured, almost dropping everything when John suddenly spoke up.
"Sherlock, I-oh, sorry," he said. Sherlock reshuffled the letters, and waved a hand at John to continue.
"I just realized that we forgot to inform Mycroft about our, er, agreement. "
Sherlock stiffened at the mention of his brother's name, but tried to appear uninterested. Keeping his attention focused on the post, he replied, "I'm sure he knows."
John pursed his lips. "Of course he does." He closed his laptop, and then asked, "I wonder why he hasn't come round yet?''
''Hmm, perhaps we should be grateful for small favors,'' Sherlock answered, sorting the letters into a neat stack. Truth be told, over a month had passed since he'd refused to take part in Operation Lazarus, and in all that time he and M
Spring Cleaning''...And when I calculated the length of time it took for the parsley to melt into the butter, I--Ow! Mrs Hudson!''
''Sherlock Holmes, how in the world did your ears get so dirty?''
''You don't have to scrub so hard!''
''Mind your tone, young man. Honestly, I'm surprised they don't have vegetables growing out of them...Now, where's the rosewater?''
''Er, yes, excellent question...''
''What have you done with it?''
''I, er, might've used it for an experiment...''
''*Sigh* I suppose we'll do without for now, but you are going to go to the shops and buy more, is that clear?''
''Have you heard of something called 'responsibility'?''
''Fine, if you believe I must. Hand me a towel.''
''Any more of your cheek, and you'll find out where the next one's going.''
''You've been getting rather brash of late, Mrs Hudson.''
''I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it, Mr Holmes.''
Change of Heart''You're what?!''
The words reverberated throughout Mycroft's office. Sherlock spun around in his chair, and replied, ''You heard me loud and clear.''
Mycroft glared at him. ''A few months ago, you could hardly wait to get started, and now all of a sudden, you've changed your mind?'' With a suspicious air, he continued, ''Does this have anything to with-''
"Things change, you know how it is. Sorry, brother dear, but I'm afraid Lazarus is no-go,'' Sherlock said in a sing-song voice, calculated to annoy the living daylights out of Mycroft .
''You of all people should realize how much time and effort has gone into planning this!'' Mycroft snapped. ''Moriarty-''
''So?'' Sherlock interrupted again, as he contemplated his brother's current resemblance to a tomato. ''Let MI6 handle it. Give them something interesting to do for a change.''
With a heavy sigh, Mycroft rubbed a hand over his face, and then asked with a slight edge, ''Don't you think you're taking this...'adoption' nonsense a bit
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