Writing Practice - Sherlock Role-play

[maddyduke]

. . . Not that kinda role play, gutter bunnies.
Just mine and my sisters way to practise getting into characters :)
Thoughts welcome.

(Sherlock ruffled the paper in his hands, shifting to get more comfortable in the old, faded armchair)

Comments

[maddyduke]

[Lines crease his forehead as he frowns, huffily folding the paper in two and tossing it onto the dusty floor. He looks around from the remote distractedly.]
Can they not use the Internet? Writing about it everyday must be so tedious...and who is this Diana person?

[maddyduke]

[Sherlock victoriously drags the remote from under the sofa cushions, idly wondering how his cat femur had ended up there too. He decided to leave it - it would be more interesting if John found it during one of his regular spring cleans.
He flicked on the TV, searching for anything to overcome the boredom.]
Thirteen years ago? Are the police really that inadequate that they are still searching for clues *thirteen years later*? I'm sure you are declared dead if you can't be found after seven years.

[maddyduke]

[He settles on Jeremy Kyle, challenging himself to work out in 20 seconds what the lie detector will prove in ten minutes. His eyes stray to the kitchen - he wondered if his flatmate had finished making his toast, or if the ability had alluded him. A brief mental image of John with his sleeve on fire flashed across his mind, so improbable that a chuckle left his lips.]
It happened thirteen years ago; they shouldn't care anymore.
[He cocks his head at the couple on screen, deducing just from their half hidden looks that they'd been having an affair for months.]
Tea, please, John.

[maddyduke]

[His challenge becoming too easy, Sherlock closes his eyes, relying on speech to make his deductions. He hears John pause in the doorway of the kitchen, his heavy footfalls indicating he was becoming weary.]
I never waste time. I'm honing. And you're closer to the kitchen.

[maddyduke]

[He blinks at the tone of Johns voice, turning to look at his retreating back. The TV was forgotten - he had a new mystery to solve.]
John?

[maddyduke]

[He takes the mug from John, a calculating expression on his face. He places it on the small, scruffy table inbetween the two chairs, disrupting a pile of books that served as the only remenant of their last case.]
Are you...alright?

[maddyduke]

[Looking away, he scrutinises the steam curling up from the tea. He flicks the book covers with long, nimble fingers before reaching out and curling them around the neck of his Stradivarius. Working with his hand would help to distract his thought processes. But his concern for John deepened as he distractedly touched the strings. He hadn't missed the dark circles under his eyes, or the fact that he had been working longer hours at the surgery.]
[He nodded toward the opposite chair]
Sit down, then. No use standing up if you are weary.

[maddyduke]

[The narrowing of the good Doctors eyes and a quiet exhale convinced Sherlock to swiftly pick up the cooling mug, running the tips of his fingers around the damp rim before lifting it to his lips for a cursory sip, his silver eyes on Johns apologetically. The detective shifted to face the other man as he moved across to the chair, eyes remaining on him and blinking owlishly.]
Relax, John. Please? [He kicks a union Jack pillow in his direction pointedly.]