Simple Mathematics: CoefficientthesardineFebruary 8 2011, 02:57:39 UTC
Thanks to the people who commented on the first part! I need to stop reading the rant meme because now I'm afraid that if I respond to comments here, I'll be reproached for wasting valuable meme space...:( Anyway, comments are received with love, and so is criticism, so if you notice anything blatantly wrong, go ahead and point it out.
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It came in a long cardboard cylinder with a note attached, which read:
Enjoy your date, Dr. Watson. Kindest regards, Baignard Holmes.
Four blue thumbtacks were contained in a small plastic bag, and John unrolled the poster. It was just a bunch of numbers, and John tacked it over the table for a better look. It didn't bother him that Baignard knew he had a date tonight - he often did anyway, and Baignard was cohorts with Mycroft, whom John knew to be an incorrigible meddler. John lowered himself stiffly from the chair he'd stood on, and stepped back to examine his curious gift. He crossed his arms. He tilted his head to one side. It was just a bunch of numbers.
The numbers were obviously arranged in some sort of pattern, a triangle, beginning with 1, followed in the next row by two 1's, then a 1 2 1. Oh, John saw what it was doing. Actually he had seen this pattern a long time ago, perhaps in secondary, where each number in the next row was the sum of the two numbers diagonally above it. Pascal's Triangle, the poster said, in big blue letters across the bottom. If John showed this to Jennifer, he would never get laid, he knew. Perhaps that's why Baignard had sent it.
Sherlock entered from the kitchen. He was carrying a steaming concoction in a mug and he said "John, I need you to try this." He noticed what John was looking at, and he paused. "I didn't realize you'd taken a mathematical turn," he said with some derision.
"It's Pascal's Triangle. You've seen it before?" John leaned in and examined the contents of the proffered mug. Ochre. It was the consistency of carpenter's glue.
"Of course I haven't, why would I." Sherlock glanced again at the poster. "Mathematical curiosities have no application outside of - " he fell abruptly silent.
John took the experiment and tentatively sniffed it. It smelled oddly enticing, like vanilla biscuits. "Outside of," he prompted. He looked at Sherlock, who was staring, transfixed, at the triangle.
"Sherlock," John said.
Nothing.
John set down the mug. "Hey, Sherlock." He snapped his fingers.
Nothing.
John thought for a long moment. He pulled out his phone and edged into the hall.
"Hey, hi, Jenny," he said, and glanced cautiously into the sitting room. "Listen, how would you feel about meeting up a bit sooner, maybe catching an early film or something? Yeah? Well I'm free right now - yeah sure. No, he's busy."
John slipped into his jacket and opened the door slowly and silently. Sherlock hadn't moved at all. John stole quickly down the steps and when he reached the street he broke into a run.
Sherlock still hadn't moved when John returned from his date. Buoyant with success, John hung his jacket and sighed pleasantly. It had been a remarkable while since he had been let to complete a date unimpeded. Although it was perhaps a bit disturbing to see Sherlock still standing there after five hours. John stood next to him and tried to see what was so interesting about the triangle, probably something only geniuses could see. Oh, look at that, that diagonal ran 1 2 3 4 5. John glanced at Sherlock sidelong. His brows were drawn in intense concentration, and what was - was that a hard on? It was!
John broke into an incredulous half-grin, and jumped when Sherlock suddenly bellowed, "Utterly extraneous!" and leaped onto the chair. He tore the poster off the wall, sent it flapping scross the room, and then stalked off into the kitchen.
John's phone beeped. It was Jenny with a lewd text message. John retrieved the poster and rolled it up reverently. He held it in both hands and kissed it up to God.
1
1 1
1 2 1
It came in a long cardboard cylinder with a note attached, which read:
Enjoy your date, Dr. Watson.
Kindest regards,
Baignard Holmes.
Four blue thumbtacks were contained in a small plastic bag, and John unrolled the poster. It was just a bunch of numbers, and John tacked it over the table for a better look. It didn't bother him that Baignard knew he had a date tonight - he often did anyway, and Baignard was cohorts with Mycroft, whom John knew to be an incorrigible meddler. John lowered himself stiffly from the chair he'd stood on, and stepped back to examine his curious gift. He crossed his arms. He tilted his head to one side. It was just a bunch of numbers.
The numbers were obviously arranged in some sort of pattern, a triangle, beginning with 1, followed in the next row by two 1's, then a 1 2 1. Oh, John saw what it was doing. Actually he had seen this pattern a long time ago, perhaps in secondary, where each number in the next row was the sum of the two numbers diagonally above it. Pascal's Triangle, the poster said, in big blue letters across the bottom. If John showed this to Jennifer, he would never get laid, he knew. Perhaps that's why Baignard had sent it.
Sherlock entered from the kitchen. He was carrying a steaming concoction in a mug and he said "John, I need you to try this." He noticed what John was looking at, and he paused. "I didn't realize you'd taken a mathematical turn," he said with some derision.
"It's Pascal's Triangle. You've seen it before?" John leaned in and examined the contents of the proffered mug. Ochre. It was the consistency of carpenter's glue.
"Of course I haven't, why would I." Sherlock glanced again at the poster. "Mathematical curiosities have no application outside of - " he fell abruptly silent.
John took the experiment and tentatively sniffed it. It smelled oddly enticing, like vanilla biscuits. "Outside of," he prompted. He looked at Sherlock, who was staring, transfixed, at the triangle.
"Sherlock," John said.
Nothing.
John set down the mug. "Hey, Sherlock." He snapped his fingers.
Nothing.
John thought for a long moment. He pulled out his phone and edged into the hall.
"Hey, hi, Jenny," he said, and glanced cautiously into the sitting room. "Listen, how would you feel about meeting up a bit sooner, maybe catching an early film or something? Yeah? Well I'm free right now - yeah sure. No, he's busy."
John slipped into his jacket and opened the door slowly and silently. Sherlock hadn't moved at all. John stole quickly down the steps and when he reached the street he broke into a run.
Sherlock still hadn't moved when John returned from his date. Buoyant with success, John hung his jacket and sighed pleasantly. It had been a remarkable while since he had been let to complete a date unimpeded. Although it was perhaps a bit disturbing to see Sherlock still standing there after five hours. John stood next to him and tried to see what was so interesting about the triangle, probably something only geniuses could see. Oh, look at that, that diagonal ran 1 2 3 4 5. John glanced at Sherlock sidelong. His brows were drawn in intense concentration, and what was - was that a hard on? It was!
John broke into an incredulous half-grin, and jumped when Sherlock suddenly bellowed, "Utterly extraneous!" and leaped onto the chair. He tore the poster off the wall, sent it flapping scross the room, and then stalked off into the kitchen.
John's phone beeped. It was Jenny with a lewd text message. John retrieved the poster and rolled it up reverently. He held it in both hands and kissed it up to God.
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