(Untitled)

[sh_consulting]

WHO: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and you...?? (OPEN)
WHERE: All around the town.
WHEN: All Saturday.
WARNINGS: uh none? i will update this if bizarre things happen
SUMMARY: Sherlock and John go looking around the city for a flat (and a disguise or two) and maybe run into people. feel free to start your own tags, they'll be all over the place, you can

Comments

[drpsychosomatic]

There were many reasons Dr. John Watson liked Sherlock Holmes, he reminded himself, forcefully. Many. His propensity for demanding John's attention right there and then no matter the hour, however, was not one of them.

Wearily opening an eye to check the time (Less than two minutes since he'd been woken by a text message he'd decided could definitely wait until a sociable hour), he groaned and slid out of bed, raking a hand through his hair irritably as he slumped bare-footed towards the front door.

Once there, he opened it without a single snapped curse or muttered insult- though it was entirely obvious from his bed-ruffled hair and rumpled pyjamas that he would have been quite happy with another hour or three of sleep, thank you very much.

"Sherlock," he said tightly, offering the other man a forced smile. "Do you own a watch?"

[sh_consulting]

Sherlock's patented smug smirk slid up his lips at the sight of John, the light behind his eyes twinkling.

"It is exactly 7:16 a.m, and it has been precisely thirteen minutes since the sun rose."

He paused, and then, still smirking: "Problem?"

[drpsychosomatic]

"Bit of one, yes. Ever heard of sociable hours?"

He sighed anyway and moved aside, giving Sherlock room to slide past him into the flat. The detective was law unto himself and that was extremely unlikely to change.

"Tea? I'm going to need at least one before listening to whatever reason you have for getting me up before seven thirty on my day off."

[sh_consulting]

"No. We can pick up breakfast on the way." Not that he would, of course, eat much of anything. But he'd rather the good doctor be somewhat awake for their excursion.

He stepped into John's flat as if he was merely walking into an extension of his own. He couldn't help notice, however, that it was nearly barren, save for a mug and a couple discarded newspapers. He walked to the window, pulling the curtains back to take a look outside. The world was barely awake yet, but the City was alive as ever.

"At least it is a day off. We have a lot to do."

[drpsychosomatic]

John shook his head, slipping through to the kitchen to put the kettle on, his eyes still bleary.

"I am not going anywhere until I've had a cuppa and at least two biscuits," he protested firmly, mostly to himself. "It's not even eight, Sherlock."

[sh_consulting]

"Fine, fine." He strode into the kitchen and went for the cupboard that obviously contained the biscuits (just look at the amount of fingerprints compared to the other cupboards), and withdrew the box. Removing two biscuits, he stepped over to John, leaning over behind him, and held out the treats.

[drpsychosomatic]

Sparing a moment to glare at Sherlock, John clunked a mug onto the countertop and dropped a teabag in it with overly deliberate gestures. He was not going to be hurried in his morning ritual, and certainly not in his own home by a man who lacked the common decency to wait until at least nine on a weekend before darkening his door.

"You might as well sit down," he said tersely, ignoring the biscuits and pouring boiling water into the mug, leaving the tea to brew.
"I need to have my tea and biscuits, have a shower and get dressed- and you standing there isn't going to make me any faster."

[sh_consulting]

With an exaggerated sigh, Sherlock tossed the biscuits down beside the mug and stalked into the living room, tossing himself down on the first chair he found.

"You're adding things to the list, John." Just a little bit petulantly.

[drpsychosomatic]

"No, deciding I'm going to watch the breakfast news as well would be adding things," John replied smoothly, fishing out the teabag, adding a jot of milk and just the one sugar. A luxury reserved for mornings.

"You can't honestly have thought I'd go out in my pyjamas. Now. You can tell me why you're here while I drink this, if you like. I don't read text messages at this time in the morning on a weekend."

[sh_consulting]

Sherlock only 'tsked' to the first part, crossing his legs and tapping his foot over his knee.

"Most importantly, there's a meeting. We have some preparing to do. However, I've also arranged for a few... viewings. For a flat." There was a small pause. Though they'd discussed finding a new flat before, it was the first time Sherlock had brought it up since their first meeting. He was certain, of course, that John was still willing - he came over to his flat often enough - but.

[drpsychosomatic]

"You know," he began, taking a sip of his tea to hide his amusement, "You gave me just about as much warning last time you informed me we were going to look at a flat together. That's comforting. All right. We're meeting someone first?"

[sh_consulting]

Well that was easy. He couldn't quite repress the slight smile, but it was quickly followed by a frown. Meeting someone?

"No, the meeting is later." As if he entirely expected John to know that, instantly. "And not someone. Someones. It seems that the entire underbelly of the City has been invited."

[drpsychosomatic]

"Right," he agreed dubiously. "We're going to meet the entire underbelly of the city once we've found a flat. Have I just about got it, or are you going to add anything else in there?"

[sh_consulting]

Sherlock frowned. Did he really have to explain it in such detail?

"No. On the sixth. Though I'd like to be situated in a new flat before then, yes." He paused, and then asked rather petulantly: "Are you finished yet?"

[drpsychosomatic]

John shot him a sardonic smile, raising the mug to his lips slowly.

"I don't know, Sherlock. What do you think? Can't deduce how much tea I need before my brain starts working?"

[sh_consulting]

"I rather doubt you have enough tea in the house for that, John," he said, looking at him over steepled fingers. "I'll settle for 'able to walk down the street'."