Live In Love

Don't Let It Show

Dr. John Watson had gone out for a late night stroll down Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes, his flatmate of about 6 months, was driving him absolutely insane. Sherlock was a detective, but not just any detective. He was the world's only 'consulting detective,' a title he created for himself. It had been a week since Sherlock had had a case, and it was obviously wearing on him. He had reached a point of annoying that even John could hardly tolerate. Even though he was advised against going out on the streets of London at a late hour, he figured he had enough pent up anger to kill anyone who tried to jump him.

John walked back in to the flat at a quarter to 10 and looked around. There were papers thrown all about the floor, a chair flipped upside down, and little chunks of what looked like human flesh on the carpet. And sitting in the middle of it was none other than Sherlock. The consulting detective seemed to be completely immersed in his work. He was shuffling papers and picking up the little skin pieces, examining each carefully. John rolled his eyes and stepped in to the living room.

"It's an experiment," Sherlock stated before John even opened his mouth.

"I didn't ask," John said, staring at Sherlock.

"You didn't have to," Sherlock replied, putting down a piece of paper he seemed extremely interested in. He smirked and pulled out his phone and began to text.

"So, what does this 'experiment' deal with?" John asked, carefully stepping over the mess and plopping in to his chair.

Sherlock quickly glanced up at John then back down at his phone."None of your concern," Sherlock muttered. His thumbs flew over the keys at a rapid pace. After about a minute, he calmly put his phone back in to his trouser pocket and stood. He was wearing his usual outfit: white button down, black suit jacket, black dress shoes and...

"Are you wearing jeans?" John asked with equal parts confusion and shock.

Sherlock looked at him and scoffed.
"Don't act so surprised, John. I do own more than just slacks," he quipped as he sauntered in to the kitchen. John turned in his chair and looked at Sherlock.

"I understand that, I've just never seen you in anything other than slacks, unless they were your sleepers," John replied.

Sherlock merely rolled his eyes and began to dig through the cupboard.
"I could say the same to you about that jumper you always seem to have on," he remarked as he put a kettle on the stove.

John looked down at his beige jumper, now dingy from its constant wear. John felt his ears grow red and he sighed.

"Alright, fair point. I was just curious as to why you were in jeans."

Sherlock leaned against the counter and the right corner of his lips turned up in what seemed to be a mocking smile.

"Last week, you told me to 'loosen up.' So I am "loosening up," he explained, using air quotes to accentuate his point.

John looked back with surprise. He still couldn't believe Sherlock Holmes, the man who never took suggestions from anybody, had actually taken his snide comment in to considersation.

"Oh, well...great," was all John could muster before looking at the living room floor. "Well, the new 'loosened up' Sherlock wouldn't happen to want to get this flesh off the floor, would he?" John asked, feeling slightly uneasy about the possibilty of stepping on a piece of cadaver dermis.

Sherlock calmly walked back in to the living room and handed John a cup of tea. "Nope," Sherlock answered, popping the 'P' ever so slightly.

John took the tea and shook his head. How he managed to live with this man was beyond him.
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After arguing and discussing for what seemed like ages, John finally convinced Sherlock to clean up the 'experiment' from the floor by about 11 o'clock in the evening. While he was cleaning, Sherlock explained what had happened in John's short absence.