Sherlock, John, and Bill; John and Sherlock's flat; 17 July early morning

[cons_detective]

Sherlock is on the sofa with Murphy on his lap, very deliberately ignoring the occasional outburst from John. He can't do that. Well, obviously he can, because he did. It's not right. Debatable. The cat wasn't his to take. Well, it wasn't Mary's either.

It's easy to ignore the reprimands with a purring ball of fluff on his lap.

Comments

[not_thatbill]

Bill stands in front of the entrance and can faintly hear one of the outbursts. Oh good, John's started without Bill. Well, there's no sense in waiting.

He knocks on the front door.

[cons_detective]

John quickly goes to open the door, and Sherlock makes a face at Bill's arrival and leans back heavily into the sofa.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

[not_thatbill]

Bill grins at John, a little too tired to give the usual shout.

He quirks an eyebrow at Sherlock once he gets in, unsurprised by the unenthusiastic greeting. "Hello to you too, S."

[cons_detective]

"I have a name, you know," Sherlock says as he lazily scratches the cat behind its ears. "You are allowed to use it."

John just shakes his head and sits down in his chair.

"Good luck," he says. "I've been trying for the last hour."