[ john thought the snowfall six years ago had been bad; like it was trying to make up for the two extra tours he had taken up in afghanistan before that bullet ripped through his shoulder and ended his military career. that thought had quickly perished in the few hours he seriously considered dashing to the nearest shop to buy candles when the electricity started flickering in and out and the likelihood of going home tonight became extremely slim.
by this point, the only thing left working in the flat was his mobile (due for an upgrade but which battery was still holding out at an impressive seventy-two percent) and he'd left sherlock in the kitchen while he stood next to the window, watching the snowfall while speaking in a hushed voice to mary. thank god this baby was their first together -- the new born girl had enough baby formula to last her two weeks and was still spending her days sleeping. it was quiet enough outside the flat that even the criminals plastered on the wall above the sofa didn't even dare to step outside. Inside, however... ]
Christ!
[ instinctively, john looks down at the carpet before remembering mrs. hudson is away -- convalesce in cornwall with her sister for the rest of the month -- before saying a quick good-bye and hanging up. mary has never lived with sherlock holmes but the furore he threw himself into organising their wedding was enough to give the stories on his blog some credibility. he walks over to the kitchen and standing in the door way, watches the sad lump of partially frozen left-over stew slide down the tiles before landing on the floor with a pathetic phlat.
pursuing his lips together, john pushes a sigh through his nostrils and his fingers dance by his side. desperate times call for desperate measures. ]
Right then. You've given me no choice Sherlock, I have to do this.
[ he warns him in a lowered voice before going back over to the sofa, grunting as he gets down onto his knees and rummages underneath for the emergency board games. ]
no subject
by this point, the only thing left working in the flat was his mobile (due for an upgrade but which battery was still holding out at an impressive seventy-two percent) and he'd left sherlock in the kitchen while he stood next to the window, watching the snowfall while speaking in a hushed voice to mary. thank god this baby was their first together -- the new born girl had enough baby formula to last her two weeks and was still spending her days sleeping. it was quiet enough outside the flat that even the criminals plastered on the wall above the sofa didn't even dare to step outside. Inside, however... ]
Christ!
[ instinctively, john looks down at the carpet before remembering mrs. hudson is away -- convalesce in cornwall with her sister for the rest of the month -- before saying a quick good-bye and hanging up. mary has never lived with sherlock holmes but the furore he threw himself into organising their wedding was enough to give the stories on his blog some credibility. he walks over to the kitchen and standing in the door way, watches the sad lump of partially frozen left-over stew slide down the tiles before landing on the floor with a pathetic phlat.
pursuing his lips together, john pushes a sigh through his nostrils and his fingers dance by his side. desperate times call for desperate measures. ]
Right then. You've given me no choice Sherlock, I have to do this.
[ he warns him in a lowered voice before going back over to the sofa, grunting as he gets down onto his knees and rummages underneath for the emergency board games. ]
We're playing Cluedo!