jimmyhkim21 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jimmyhkim21) wrote2013-11-07 08:08 pm
jimmyhkim21) wrote2013-11-07 08:08 pm
Entry tags:
An Afternoon Drive Down Lambeth
Title: An Afternoon Drive Down Lambeth, Prologue
Rating: R for language and violence
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock Holmes(BBC)
Summary: John bit back a laugh at his friend’s Olivier-worthy antics. The morning was chilly but also sunny enough that he was about to leave the flat himself, as the day was open and John had nothing on schedule. Then, remembering the refrigerator bereft of food, John decided to go shopping first. The next day, John would blame that single act for the ensuing mayhem. That and an old acquaintance named James Bond.
Disclaimer: Seriously, does anyone NOT know Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?
Notes: Gen, but can be read with slash goggles. Also posted on AO3
“John, are you done?”
There was a very long pause from the loo before John’s voice piped out, “Why are you asking?”
“Because I don’t want you to flush the toilet.”
“Again, why…”
“I need samples.”
There was a very long and damning silence before Sherlock heard the defiant flush of water.
John fastidiously washed his hands before opening the door.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Sherlock snapped. “It wasn’t as if you needed it anyway.”
“I’ve followed you to the depths of hell,” John said calmly, “but I don’t think I’ve ever been so disturbed as I am right now.
“Please tell me you didn’t dose me again.”
“I didn’t dose you…”
“Sherlock!” John roared. “After Baskerville…”
“It was a tiny bit of inert protein-based compound I’ve been…”
“The morning tea, wasn’t it? I knew it tasted funny.”
“You tasted it?” Sherlock was disappointed. “Damn, I thought the honey would have sufficiently masked it.”
John closed his eyes and began reciting the skeletal structure of an orangutan; something he had to learn because of the hideous case they’d taken right after Sherlock’s public resurrection. Or, as the Sun had hysterically put it:
“You’re upset with me,” Sherlock said, looking wounded even though John’s irritation was more than well deserved.
“Great deduction, that,” John said, trying not to let his flatmate pull another one. One of these days I’ll develop enough of a backbone, John thought as he studied the developing pout on Sherlock’s face, and then mentally snorted because he was never the type to fool himself.
“What day is today?” Sherlock asked.
Well used to non-sequiturs that peppered his daily conversations with Sherlock, John automatically answered, “November 9, Saturday.”
“Ahhh,” Sherlock said and took a glance at his mobile. “I have an appointment.”
John studied Sherlock’s ensemble. “You’re going to get another suit?”
“No, though I wish that were the case.”
Not bothering to elaborate any further, Sherlock whooshed around with his usual flair and marched to his bedroom.
John bit back a laugh at his friend’s Olivier-worthy antics. The morning was chilly but also sunny enough that he was about to leave the flat himself, as the day was open and John had nothing on schedule. Then, remembering the refrigerator bereft of food, John decided to go shopping first
The next day, John would blame that single act for the ensuing mayhem. That and an old acquaintance named James Bond.
Part I
Rating: R for language and violence
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock Holmes(BBC)
Summary: John bit back a laugh at his friend’s Olivier-worthy antics. The morning was chilly but also sunny enough that he was about to leave the flat himself, as the day was open and John had nothing on schedule. Then, remembering the refrigerator bereft of food, John decided to go shopping first. The next day, John would blame that single act for the ensuing mayhem. That and an old acquaintance named James Bond.
Disclaimer: Seriously, does anyone NOT know Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?
Notes: Gen, but can be read with slash goggles. Also posted on AO3
“John, are you done?”
There was a very long pause from the loo before John’s voice piped out, “Why are you asking?”
“Because I don’t want you to flush the toilet.”
“Again, why…”
“I need samples.”
There was a very long and damning silence before Sherlock heard the defiant flush of water.
John fastidiously washed his hands before opening the door.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Sherlock snapped. “It wasn’t as if you needed it anyway.”
“I’ve followed you to the depths of hell,” John said calmly, “but I don’t think I’ve ever been so disturbed as I am right now.
“Please tell me you didn’t dose me again.”
“I didn’t dose you…”
“Sherlock!” John roared. “After Baskerville…”
“It was a tiny bit of inert protein-based compound I’ve been…”
“The morning tea, wasn’t it? I knew it tasted funny.”
“You tasted it?” Sherlock was disappointed. “Damn, I thought the honey would have sufficiently masked it.”
John closed his eyes and began reciting the skeletal structure of an orangutan; something he had to learn because of the hideous case they’d taken right after Sherlock’s public resurrection. Or, as the Sun had hysterically put it:
Zombie Genius Spotted in Marylebone! Is London Safe?!
“You’re upset with me,” Sherlock said, looking wounded even though John’s irritation was more than well deserved.
“Great deduction, that,” John said, trying not to let his flatmate pull another one. One of these days I’ll develop enough of a backbone, John thought as he studied the developing pout on Sherlock’s face, and then mentally snorted because he was never the type to fool himself.
“What day is today?” Sherlock asked.
Well used to non-sequiturs that peppered his daily conversations with Sherlock, John automatically answered, “November 9, Saturday.”
“Ahhh,” Sherlock said and took a glance at his mobile. “I have an appointment.”
John studied Sherlock’s ensemble. “You’re going to get another suit?”
“No, though I wish that were the case.”
Not bothering to elaborate any further, Sherlock whooshed around with his usual flair and marched to his bedroom.
John bit back a laugh at his friend’s Olivier-worthy antics. The morning was chilly but also sunny enough that he was about to leave the flat himself, as the day was open and John had nothing on schedule. Then, remembering the refrigerator bereft of food, John decided to go shopping first
The next day, John would blame that single act for the ensuing mayhem. That and an old acquaintance named James Bond.
Part I