Sherlock Fic: John Hates Mornings, Part 2 of 3
For the sherlock100 prompt "Middles."
Part 1
John Hates Mornings, Part 2
“What!?”
When John opened his eyes, his door was swinging shut.
“Should’ve installed the bloody doorstop!” he groaned as he forced himself out of bed and began fumbling with his shirt buttons.
Five minutes later he had started a cup of last night’s coffee in the microwave. “What is it, Sherlock?”
“Benson!” Sherlock appeared in the doorway, texting with his right hand as he shrugged his left arm into his coat. “It was Benson all along! Idiot! Should’ve seen it on Saturday, but I missed…”
John cursed at his shoelaces and ignored Sherlock in favor of looking speculatively at his bottle of Maxtrex.
“Yes, John. Every Monday.”
“Is it Monday?”
“You’re absolutely useless in the mornings! Do you honestly think I could have overlooked a clue like that for more than twenty-four hours?”
John snorted, washed the pill down with half his cup of lukewarm coffee, and started stiffly after Sherlock, who was almost halfway to the street.
At the foot of the stairs he stopped short. “Hang on! I can’t take that without…”
“Especially Monday mornings! Left pocket, John!”
“Ah.”
John reached into his pocket and felt a banana. He smiled, and started running.
Part 3
Part 1
John Hates Mornings, Part 2
“What!?”
When John opened his eyes, his door was swinging shut.
“Should’ve installed the bloody doorstop!” he groaned as he forced himself out of bed and began fumbling with his shirt buttons.
Five minutes later he had started a cup of last night’s coffee in the microwave. “What is it, Sherlock?”
“Benson!” Sherlock appeared in the doorway, texting with his right hand as he shrugged his left arm into his coat. “It was Benson all along! Idiot! Should’ve seen it on Saturday, but I missed…”
John cursed at his shoelaces and ignored Sherlock in favor of looking speculatively at his bottle of Maxtrex.
“Yes, John. Every Monday.”
“Is it Monday?”
“You’re absolutely useless in the mornings! Do you honestly think I could have overlooked a clue like that for more than twenty-four hours?”
John snorted, washed the pill down with half his cup of lukewarm coffee, and started stiffly after Sherlock, who was almost halfway to the street.
At the foot of the stairs he stopped short. “Hang on! I can’t take that without…”
“Especially Monday mornings! Left pocket, John!”
“Ah.”
John reached into his pocket and felt a banana. He smiled, and started running.
Part 3