sherli--  only  one sentence out of you,  eh?   What can we deduce from it?   hmmmm..

Last edited by sherlockskitty (June 24, 2012 1:33 am)

Sherlock ripped the mask off his face : "I'm quite competent at knowing how to breath, is that the best line they teach you in the Fire Department!?".
Sherlock sprang to his feet & ran to the burning curtains, the others reaching far too late to stop him.

Grabbing the yet to be burnt section he gave one almighty pull on the burning fabric & then thrust the curtains, rods & fittings out the window like a giant molotov cocktail. Mrs Hudson lamented her bins' last few seconds with a tear in her eye.

Turning to the gaping spectators in the room he exploded ' Remind me never to wait for you lot to save my life! Look at my room. My Periodic Table is melting from the heat. Get out Get out all of you'.

The few moments of silence that followed felt like the last ten minutes of a Soapie where everyone looked from one person to the next, exchanging increasingly odd facial expressions.
This culminated into a break in silence when a voice at the back was heard, its owner stepping forward :
"So, can we start gathering evidence here? I bags the sock drawer" whined Anderson.

Sherlock slammed the door in Anderson's face.  It was getting to be a habit.  He was getting to like it.

Once everyone had left him alone, Sherlock slowly spun 360 degrees, searching.  His room was a shambles.  Normally, the bedroom was spare and stark, unlike the other rooms in the flat; now, it was a mess. 

He stood in the centre of the room and pondered.  "It's got to be here," he insisted to himself.  "Where?"  His eyes roamed the room again.  "Think!" he chided himself.  "THINK!"

(@sherlockskitty: You didn't offend me at all!  I thought your comment was funny, and tried to reply in kind.     Should there ever be a next time, I'll be sure to use a smiley to make sure that's clear.   )

Last edited by Sherli Bakerst (June 24, 2012 1:15 pm)

I don't have any fantastic, brilliant ideas but this has got to be continued so someone please contine, please...   



Lestrade interrupted Anderson.  "Let's go," he said, nodding with his head to the front door.  "We're not needed here anymore."  Anderson grunted but with a taunting smile at Sherlock, followed his boss out the door and down the stairs.

John watched them get into the police car and drive off.  Then he turned to his flatmate.  "Sherlock," he began.

Last edited by Sherli Bakerst (July 2, 2012 12:55 am)

John sighed, loudly, hoping Sherlock would hear.  Then he left the flat, walked down the stairs, and out the front door, making sure to slam it shut.  He paused a moment and looked up.  Nothing.  Good.

Quietly now, he walked quickly around to the back of the building.  Another glance upwards.  Still nothing.  John climbed on top of one of Mrs. Hudson's new blue bins, grabbed hold of the fire escape ladder, and hauled himself up to the ledge outside Sherlock's bedroom.

Carefully, he snuck a look inside.  Sherlock's back was to him.  John reached over to the window and gently, softly, started to raise it.  Sherlock hadn't moved from his bed.

(LOVE how Sherlock knew John was there!)

"Clearly, you didn't hear me so I came round to tell you..." John began.

"I most clearly did hear you," Sherlock contradicted.  "Clearly," he continued sarcastically, "I was ignoring you.  Clearly, you didn't get the message.  Clearly, you think a face-to-face encounter will change my mind.  Clearly, you are wrong."  Sherlock flopped back onto his bed and turned his back to John.

John had climbed into the room during this semi-tirade.  Moving to stand by the bedroom door where he could see Sherlock clearly, John silently assessed his flat-mate.  "Right," he nodded.  "What's really the matter?"

is anyone going to add to this story?  Shall we bring it to a close?

ok  I'll get it going again.   

"Oh...she was just visiting." Sherlock replied carelessly.  The real reason was that Irene was being a puppet for someone else that he didn't know about; She had told him that the mysterious person had  invented a new type of riffle which she had tried out on Sherlock.  Sherlock had been scared, but he wasn't going to admit that to John just yet.
"WE  are expected at the station at quarter past."  John stated.
"I'm not going. I've got other things to do."
"like what?"
"Charles agustus Milverton."
"Who's he?"
"A selfish cad that you would ever hope to meet.  I was broght to his attention by another friend in the police department, and I've decided to go and interview him.  He's stolen something that his family wants back."  Sherlock had been putting on his coat and scarf and then turned to John.  'You coming?  Yes,  Phone Lestrade, tell him I'll get there when I am finished with this errand.  I'll have more to tell him anyway.   Coming?"
John needed no extra prodding.  He went out, got his jacket and scarf and gloves, and followed Sherlock out.  He didn't care that Sherlock had evaded his question..if Sherlock had more important things to do, then he'd follow, and they would get on with it and figure out the rest later.

Last edited by sherlockskitty (August 15, 2012 1:12 am)

I think this story has petered out. Maybe we should start another one off?