The cheese case
Title: The cheese case
Rating: G
Pairings: none explicitly, some John/Sherlock implied
Characters: John, Sherlock, mention of others
Words: ~1500
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Food is mysteriously disappearing from John's fridge. Is Sherlock involved? And if yes, will John be able to solve that case alone?
My first ever fic, although I have read quite a few in various fandoms. Also my first steps on lj. Unbeta'ed, so constructive criticism is very welcome as are comments. Hope I've done everything right. Enjoy. :)
At first, only small things disappeared. A piece of toast, a slice of ham, some grapes. Sometimes, John was wondering whether he was only imagining things. Maybe the milk had only been half full yesterday, although he was pretty sure he had barely touched it and Sherlock had declared his disdain for that special brand of milk days ago. But since John never was completely sure if something was really missing, he kept quiet.
But every morning when John got into the kitchen to get himself some breakfast, some food had magically vanished overnight. And the missing pieces grew bigger, too. A chocolate bar, an apple and one day a sandwich that John had prepared the evening before to take to work because he was starting really early and only got in the mood for food when he already was at the hospital. That was too much. When he came home that evening, exhausted from long hours and bad canteen food, he confronted Sherlock. Who had apparently spent the entire day sprawling on the couch, his legs stretched over the arm rest, without moving one single bit.
“Look, Sherlock, if you are hungry, I can easily prepare you sandwiches, too, you know. You just have to ask. But that was one I planned to take to work, so I wouldn’t have to eat in that awful canteen.”
Sherlock managed to look up to him without moving his head. John folded his arms and tried to look stern. “Didn’t eat anything today. And I would never touch your sandwiches. Chicken and sweet corn and pickled gherkins? No, that is too weird to even consider.”
“Alright, you don’t share my taste in sandwiches.” John was hoping he didn’t sound hurt. It really tasted good, no matter how weird the combination sounded. “So, did you use it for one of your experiments then? Or do we have any new pets you are feeding my breakfast to?”
“I told you I didn’t take it. I haven’t been sleeping well lately, so I can’t spend too much energy on experiments anyway” Sherlock told him absentmindedly, still not moving. “Now, please leave me alone. I need to figure out how long one has to stay still to imprint a body shape into sofa cushions.”
Obviously, Sherlock was too busy to even think about food, so John left it at that.
The next day, however, a whole block of cheese was gone. John stood in front of the open fridge for a while, an unbelieving look at where the cheese has been. Then he hurried into the sitting room where Sherlock was still lying on the sofa, although he had shifted into a more comfortable position, so hopefully the experiment was over and he would listen to John.
“Sherlock, I think we might have rats or mice or something. There is cheese missing and anyway, I think Mrs. Hudson told us just last week she might have heard some weird noises from behind her cupboard.”
This time, Sherlock at least turned his head. “Do we have to discuss this now, John? I am feeling slightly unwell. Besides, even you must know that it is impossible for mice to carry one and a half pound of cheese. Let alone open the fridge.”
Oh, right. Open the fridge. John hadn’t thought about that. Now he felt stupid. Why did his conversations with Sherlock always have to turn out like this? So he only murmured “But I read somewhere that mice are among the most intelligent species on this planet” and then quickly retreated into his own room.
For about one week, nothing went missing. John had almost forgotten about it when one day he came home from work to find Sherlock sulking over a bowl of soup. He rushed towards him, feeling a worried look spreading over his face. “Hey, Sherlock, what’s wrong?”
Sherlock continued to stare disapprovingly into his soup. “You promised to leave the leftovers from last night in the fridge so I could have lunch. The only thing remotely Chinese I found in this kitchen was a single fortune cookie.” He waved a slip of paper that said Beware the nightly shadow in the rice. “How and I ask how could that have been adequate for lunch?”
John didn’t understand. “But I left you some food. There were almost ten Won Tons left and quite a lot of the Chop Suey I had. And where did you get that soup from anyway?”
“I wasn’t really hungry, but Mrs. Hudson insisted I had to eat something. She is caring for me better than you are.” As if to show John how much he appreciated Mrs. Hudson’s caring, Sherlock ate a spoonful of soup very pointedly. The show was somehow spoiled by him almost choking on the soup, though. John spotted some rather enormous pumpkin pieces which might have been responsible and suppressed a smile.
“Anyway, I did leave some food, I am sure of it. So, if it wasn’t here for your lunch it can only mean one thing - the food thief is back!” Now that he was sure it hadn’t been Sherlock, John got almost excited about the whole missing cheese business. “Look, Sherlock, we could do a stakeout tonight and see if we catch him! That’s what you usually do, isn’t it?”
And that was how they ended up sitting on the floor behind the sofa they had moved into the middle of the room so they could watch the kitchen from their hideout. John had bought a gigantic chocolate cake sitting right in front of the middle shelf of the fridge and filling the whole apartment with chocolate aroma. That had to be the perfect bait! Now they only had to wait for the thief to come.
They waited. It got dark outside and a bit cold on the floor, but nothing happened. They waited a bit more. Darkness, silence, no thief. John must have dozed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly when Sherlock’s mobile phone rang. Sherlock barely looked at it, and then blocked the call before putting it into silent mode.
“Lestrade. I have more important business right now. Sorry for waking you up. No one yet.”
John became aware he had been sleeping on Sherlock’s shoulder. Hopefully Sherlock hadn’t noticed. What was he doing apologizing anyway? Quickly, John straightened up and looked around. It was still dark and apart from the phone call still silent. So they waited some more in darkness and silence. John counted Sherlock’s quiet breaths in order to not fall asleep again. When he lost track of counting, he spent the time imagining how he would be the one to jump up and catch that thief instead of Sherlock. Sadly, the thief wasn’t in any hurry to appear in their kitchen tonight.
As it became light again outside and they still hadn’t spotted anyone, John rose and yawned. “I’m off to bed, Sherlock. Lucky, I only have to work in the afternoon today. Looks like we deterred that thief. Maybe I’ll take some of that cake to Sarah’s later. You should give some to Lestrade for not helping him out yesterday.”
John felt like he had barely fallen asleep, when a constant rapping against his door woke him up again. Knock, knock. “John!” Knock, knock. “John, get up!” Knock, knock. “John!”
“Alright, I am up! What’s the matter, Sherlock?”
“The cake is gone!”
In seconds, John was up and in the kitchen to suspiciously eye the empty shelf where the giant chocolate cake had been. No trace of it was left. What a clever thief to wait for them to go back to bed after the stakeout. John yawned and stretched. He still felt half-asleep and not able to deal with such a smart thief right now. He would let Sherlock do it. Sherlock who was much cleverer than him anyway and more awake and who smelled very good today… Rather sweet … like chocolate… John caught his trailing thoughts before they could do any damage and silently cursed his sleep-deprived brain. He really needed to get back to bed.
It was only when he arrived at his bedroom that it dawned on him. Sherlock had not smelled like chocolate, he had smelled of chocolate. And there had been a chocolate cake missing.
That night, John waited in the kitchen alone. And when he spotted Sherlock wandering around the living room in the middle of the night, he smiled. He waited perfectly still until Sherlock had entered the kitchen before he got up silently, gently put a hand onto Sherlock’s shoulder and whispered into his ear: “Got you, you cheese and chocolate thief!”
Sherlock flinched and only now opened his eyes to look around bewilderedly. “John? What is going on?”
“You have been sleepwalking.” John said with content. “And eating all the food. Even your fortune cookie tried to tell you. Hah, who would have thought I could solve a case faster than you?”
Rating: G
Pairings: none explicitly, some John/Sherlock implied
Characters: John, Sherlock, mention of others
Words: ~1500
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Food is mysteriously disappearing from John's fridge. Is Sherlock involved? And if yes, will John be able to solve that case alone?
My first ever fic, although I have read quite a few in various fandoms. Also my first steps on lj. Unbeta'ed, so constructive criticism is very welcome as are comments. Hope I've done everything right. Enjoy. :)
At first, only small things disappeared. A piece of toast, a slice of ham, some grapes. Sometimes, John was wondering whether he was only imagining things. Maybe the milk had only been half full yesterday, although he was pretty sure he had barely touched it and Sherlock had declared his disdain for that special brand of milk days ago. But since John never was completely sure if something was really missing, he kept quiet.
But every morning when John got into the kitchen to get himself some breakfast, some food had magically vanished overnight. And the missing pieces grew bigger, too. A chocolate bar, an apple and one day a sandwich that John had prepared the evening before to take to work because he was starting really early and only got in the mood for food when he already was at the hospital. That was too much. When he came home that evening, exhausted from long hours and bad canteen food, he confronted Sherlock. Who had apparently spent the entire day sprawling on the couch, his legs stretched over the arm rest, without moving one single bit.
“Look, Sherlock, if you are hungry, I can easily prepare you sandwiches, too, you know. You just have to ask. But that was one I planned to take to work, so I wouldn’t have to eat in that awful canteen.”
Sherlock managed to look up to him without moving his head. John folded his arms and tried to look stern. “Didn’t eat anything today. And I would never touch your sandwiches. Chicken and sweet corn and pickled gherkins? No, that is too weird to even consider.”
“Alright, you don’t share my taste in sandwiches.” John was hoping he didn’t sound hurt. It really tasted good, no matter how weird the combination sounded. “So, did you use it for one of your experiments then? Or do we have any new pets you are feeding my breakfast to?”
“I told you I didn’t take it. I haven’t been sleeping well lately, so I can’t spend too much energy on experiments anyway” Sherlock told him absentmindedly, still not moving. “Now, please leave me alone. I need to figure out how long one has to stay still to imprint a body shape into sofa cushions.”
Obviously, Sherlock was too busy to even think about food, so John left it at that.
The next day, however, a whole block of cheese was gone. John stood in front of the open fridge for a while, an unbelieving look at where the cheese has been. Then he hurried into the sitting room where Sherlock was still lying on the sofa, although he had shifted into a more comfortable position, so hopefully the experiment was over and he would listen to John.
“Sherlock, I think we might have rats or mice or something. There is cheese missing and anyway, I think Mrs. Hudson told us just last week she might have heard some weird noises from behind her cupboard.”
This time, Sherlock at least turned his head. “Do we have to discuss this now, John? I am feeling slightly unwell. Besides, even you must know that it is impossible for mice to carry one and a half pound of cheese. Let alone open the fridge.”
Oh, right. Open the fridge. John hadn’t thought about that. Now he felt stupid. Why did his conversations with Sherlock always have to turn out like this? So he only murmured “But I read somewhere that mice are among the most intelligent species on this planet” and then quickly retreated into his own room.
For about one week, nothing went missing. John had almost forgotten about it when one day he came home from work to find Sherlock sulking over a bowl of soup. He rushed towards him, feeling a worried look spreading over his face. “Hey, Sherlock, what’s wrong?”
Sherlock continued to stare disapprovingly into his soup. “You promised to leave the leftovers from last night in the fridge so I could have lunch. The only thing remotely Chinese I found in this kitchen was a single fortune cookie.” He waved a slip of paper that said Beware the nightly shadow in the rice. “How and I ask how could that have been adequate for lunch?”
John didn’t understand. “But I left you some food. There were almost ten Won Tons left and quite a lot of the Chop Suey I had. And where did you get that soup from anyway?”
“I wasn’t really hungry, but Mrs. Hudson insisted I had to eat something. She is caring for me better than you are.” As if to show John how much he appreciated Mrs. Hudson’s caring, Sherlock ate a spoonful of soup very pointedly. The show was somehow spoiled by him almost choking on the soup, though. John spotted some rather enormous pumpkin pieces which might have been responsible and suppressed a smile.
“Anyway, I did leave some food, I am sure of it. So, if it wasn’t here for your lunch it can only mean one thing - the food thief is back!” Now that he was sure it hadn’t been Sherlock, John got almost excited about the whole missing cheese business. “Look, Sherlock, we could do a stakeout tonight and see if we catch him! That’s what you usually do, isn’t it?”
And that was how they ended up sitting on the floor behind the sofa they had moved into the middle of the room so they could watch the kitchen from their hideout. John had bought a gigantic chocolate cake sitting right in front of the middle shelf of the fridge and filling the whole apartment with chocolate aroma. That had to be the perfect bait! Now they only had to wait for the thief to come.
They waited. It got dark outside and a bit cold on the floor, but nothing happened. They waited a bit more. Darkness, silence, no thief. John must have dozed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly when Sherlock’s mobile phone rang. Sherlock barely looked at it, and then blocked the call before putting it into silent mode.
“Lestrade. I have more important business right now. Sorry for waking you up. No one yet.”
John became aware he had been sleeping on Sherlock’s shoulder. Hopefully Sherlock hadn’t noticed. What was he doing apologizing anyway? Quickly, John straightened up and looked around. It was still dark and apart from the phone call still silent. So they waited some more in darkness and silence. John counted Sherlock’s quiet breaths in order to not fall asleep again. When he lost track of counting, he spent the time imagining how he would be the one to jump up and catch that thief instead of Sherlock. Sadly, the thief wasn’t in any hurry to appear in their kitchen tonight.
As it became light again outside and they still hadn’t spotted anyone, John rose and yawned. “I’m off to bed, Sherlock. Lucky, I only have to work in the afternoon today. Looks like we deterred that thief. Maybe I’ll take some of that cake to Sarah’s later. You should give some to Lestrade for not helping him out yesterday.”
John felt like he had barely fallen asleep, when a constant rapping against his door woke him up again. Knock, knock. “John!” Knock, knock. “John, get up!” Knock, knock. “John!”
“Alright, I am up! What’s the matter, Sherlock?”
“The cake is gone!”
In seconds, John was up and in the kitchen to suspiciously eye the empty shelf where the giant chocolate cake had been. No trace of it was left. What a clever thief to wait for them to go back to bed after the stakeout. John yawned and stretched. He still felt half-asleep and not able to deal with such a smart thief right now. He would let Sherlock do it. Sherlock who was much cleverer than him anyway and more awake and who smelled very good today… Rather sweet … like chocolate… John caught his trailing thoughts before they could do any damage and silently cursed his sleep-deprived brain. He really needed to get back to bed.
It was only when he arrived at his bedroom that it dawned on him. Sherlock had not smelled like chocolate, he had smelled of chocolate. And there had been a chocolate cake missing.
That night, John waited in the kitchen alone. And when he spotted Sherlock wandering around the living room in the middle of the night, he smiled. He waited perfectly still until Sherlock had entered the kitchen before he got up silently, gently put a hand onto Sherlock’s shoulder and whispered into his ear: “Got you, you cheese and chocolate thief!”
Sherlock flinched and only now opened his eyes to look around bewilderedly. “John? What is going on?”
“You have been sleepwalking.” John said with content. “And eating all the food. Even your fortune cookie tried to tell you. Hah, who would have thought I could solve a case faster than you?”