johnlock oneshots

Flowers

"Molly, if the body starts bruising after twenty minutes since now, text me. I'm off for the day." I said, as I put my coat on. It is friday evening and I spent all day studying the bruising of the corpses at Bart's.

I would love to stay longer, but I made a bargain with John : if I come home before 8pm, he'll let me have my experiments in the fridge, otherwise I'll have to throw them out!

"Could you even imagine! Weeks of data useless! Lost! I would have to do it all over again!" The doctor who walked past me looked in my direction with a weird expression on his face. Idiot. Speaking your thoughts aloud is considered as bizarre by all the goldfishes here, which immediatly classes you as a freak. I shook my head. I'd be considered as one anyway.

I walked my way out of Bart's and as every friday, my feet seemed to find the way to the flower shop by themselves. I'm barely aware of the moment I push the door, but I eventually snap out of my mind palace when I hear the warm greeting of the flower seller.

"Haaaa, Mr. Holmes, I was wondering if you'd miss the hour today! You're late!" "Yeah, I was making an experiment" "Always working. aaaah, it will be the death of you, Mr. Holmes. Well, here are your flowers. It is hydrangea this week. They are beautiful, aren't they?"

I took the bouquet and examinate it. It looks fresh enough to last for days, if put in fresh water regularly. The flowers are nice, spotless and smelled quite good - for flowers. I pay the man and thank him. "See you next week, Mr. Holmes."

I nod and walk out of the shop, before heading home. I quickly arrive in front of the 221b Baker Street. I open the door and walk in.

"Mrs Hudson!" I shout through the flat. "She's in the shower!" John's voice came from upstairs. "You're just on time, come here, there's Chinese food."

I don't bother answering him and go straight to my landlady's flat. There, I empty the vase with last week's flowers, rinse it and fill it with fresh water. I chuckle slightly while cuting the stems in bevel. Thinking that everything began because of an experiment. I came home with some roses - I wanted to study the reaction of blood in the flower's lenght of life : does it shorten it? or not? - and Mrs. Hudson ran into me when I was in the hall. She thought it was for her and she looked so happy I hadn't the courage to tell her the truth. Since then, I come home every friday with a new bouquet, because - even if I would never admit it - I love seeing the smile on Mrs. Hudson's face.