The One Next Door

Violent Birdbath

    "Where were you two?" Molly asked as they walked down the stairs. She was just coming out of her apartment, so they were just on time.
"Some gremlin decided to break into my flat and eat my cereal." Sherlock grumbled.
"Someone decided that it would be a good idea to use the microwave..." John started.
"To make cereal. Not something I'm going to do again, now are we ready to go?" Sherlock finished, trying not to look to suspicious as he gave Molly a wide, innocent smile.
"Well, I guess so." Molly shrugged. "Last night Helen decided to drag in a dead frog, it bled all over my carpet, it was a mess."
"That's why I don't have pets." Sherlock agreed.
"You've that plant I got you." Molly pointed out.
"Molly, that died like, three years ago." Sherlock insisted.
"Really? I thought I saw it there the other day?" Molly muttered.
"Um...no." Sherlock decided. Molly made a disappointed little huff, but continued walking down the stairs and onto the sidewalk.
"So John, what made you decide that Sherlock's cereal was even close to being edible?" Molly asked.
"It was fine, I'm not sure he could make Lucky Charms any less appealing." John shrugged.
"Oh trust me, if I put my mind to it..." Sherlock pointed out.
"Let's not think about that for now." Molly decided.
"Probably a good idea." Sherlock agreed. They walked in a bit of disturbed silence, and Sherlock couldn't help but notice that Molly was making sure to walk on the other side of John, so that he was in the middle of the pack. Usually Molly walked in the middle, to liven their morning grogginess. When they got to the coffee shop they were already open, Molly and Sherlock went to get their aprons and John went over to set up his laptop and stuff at the little table. Sherlock did his best to ignore him, and pulled on an apron.
"Well good morning all." Sarah said with a smile. "You look happy." She decided, poking Sherlock in the arm.
"Nothing wrong, just tired." Sherlock sighed.
"Why so tired?" Molly asked suspiciously.
"Because I didn't sleep very well, I guess." Sherlock shrugged. He was just going about his usual business, and didn't notice the two of them standing there with smiles on their faces and their eyebrows raised.
"Is that why you and John came down together, late, both blushing?" Molly asked. Sherlock's jaw dropped, and he looked from them, to John, and back to them, as if trying to piece together just what they were implying.
"Wait, you think, you think John and I...NO!" Sherlock said, so loud that Carl looked up from taking someone's order.
"A fair question Sherlock, you two seem a little bit more, compatible, now." Sarah shrugged.
"I swear to god, if both of you die in a mysterious 'accident', it wouldn't be terribly difficult to find out who murdered you." Sherlock decided.
"As long as you two slay me together." Molly decided, blinking rapidly and sighing.
"I hate you." Sherlock decided.
"Hate you too." Molly agreed.
"Sorry to interrupt, there's a cup waiting here!" Carl said, kind of nervously as if they were going to yell at him. But, remembering his promise to try to include the poor kid, Sherlock took it and smiled.
"Thanks Carl." He forced, and went on to make the drink, feeling Sarah and Molly make suspicious eye contact behind him.
"Oh, a large medium roast, I wonder who this might be for?" Sherlock muttered.
"Isn't that an oxymoron?" John asked, leaning up on the pickup counter.
"What?" Sherlock asked.
"Large medium." John decided.
"They're in different contexts." Sherlock pointed out, handing John his coffee.
"I think it is. Just like you're an intelligent idiot." John decided.
"And you're a hateful friend." Sherlock agreed.
"That doesn't work." John decided.
"Shut up, it'll work if I say it does." Sherlock snapped. "Now go away, we've got costumers to serve."
"I am a costumer." John insisted.
"That loiters around out counter, I shall not tolerate that." Sherlock decided.
"Whatever you say Sherlock." John sighed, taking his coffee and going back over to his table and sitting down. Sherlock watched him leave, now with no immediate costumers to serve and no drinks to make. Whatever, it beat talking to that buffoon, thinking he knows figures of speech from ninth grade. The rest of the day went alright, John only came back once to get a muffin, but that was served over the counter, so all Sherlock got to do was glare at him while John gave a large, antagonizing smile. When the costumers had all gone and the shift was over, they put away their aprons and regrouped at the coat rack.
"We should go to the park again; it's actually quite warm out." Molly decided.
"You saw how the last trip to the park went, I'm not terrible anxious to repeat that." Sherlock insisted.
"There's no bombs to drop today, I don't think, we'll be alright." Molly assured.
"Don't be so sure, I've got some pretty terrible secrets going." John laughed.
"Like what?" Sherlock asked.
"Like how I'm not human, I moved here from outer space and Dudley is actually my second brother!" John said dramatically, flailing his arms and almost hitting a poor old lady in the head.
"How terrible convincing." Sherlock sighed.
"I'm actually a serial killer, and I hide my victim's severed heads under my floor boards." Molly said weakly.
"That's why it always smells in your flat then." Sherlock decided.
"No, it's because you spend too much time in it." Molly pointed out.
"Fair point. Well, I'm actually Van Gough regenerated, that's why no one will buy my paintings. But when I die, they'll all see me for the genius I really am, and all my art will sell for millions." Sherlock insisted.
"And you in the afterlife will just spend it on paint I'm sure. And live off a stick of butter for a month." Molly guessed.
"I never did that!" Sherlock defended.
"But you might." Molly guessed.
"You wouldn't let me starve." Sherlock insisted.
"Well, it would be a funny experiment, to be honest." Molly shrugged.
"You could have some of Dudley's dog food if you were really that hungry." John assured.
"Well, it's nice to know I've got caring friends, to experiment on me and make me eat dog food." Sherlock sighed.
"Moral of the story, don't waste all of your money on paint." Molly insisted.
"I'll make a note of that, no promises." Sherlock decided. Molly just rolled her eyes.
"So are we going to the park or not?" she asked.
"Why not? It is kind of nice out today, and I'm sure we've got nothing better to do." John sighed.
"Alright then." Sherlock agreed with a little sigh, his unbuttoned trench coat flapping dramatically behind him in the wind.
"Why do you where such a long coat?" John asked.
"Because I makes me look mysterious and important." Sherlock insisted.
"It makes you look like you're some sort of stupid detective." John decided.
"Detectives aren't stupid; I think they're pretty cool." Sherlock debated.
"Well, you're smart enough to be one I suppose. I'm sure I'd just be the sidekick who encouraged you and brought snacks." John guessed.
"No, that would be Molly. You'd be the muscle, rough up all of the bad guys and make sure I'm not decapitated or anything." Sherlock shrugged.
"Oh, good to know I'm an important character." Molly sighed.
"Oh don't worry Molly, we'll still include you." Sherlock assured.
"Ya, sure you will." Molly muttered.
"So, where are we eating lunch? Sorry to say, but that chili dog messed me up more than I'd care to admit." John decided.
"I was wondering just why anyone would voluntarily eat that." Sherlock agreed.
"Because sometimes they can be good. It's a risk I'm willing to take." John insisted.
"Well, I'm up for a salad, how about you John?" Molly asked in a teasing little voice.
"Oh, I'd love some healthy green food; do you know any place in the park to get some?" John asked.
"You don't mean...no, no, not the vegetarian place!" Sherlock whined.
"Oh, good thinking Sherlock, we'll go to the vegetarian place, thanks for recommending it." Molly laughed.
"No, come on, they'll eat me alive!" Sherlock insisted.
"Sherlock, they're vegetarians." John pointed out.
"Well, what if I'm actually made out of soybeans, huh? You don't know my life." Sherlock snapped.
"It'll be fine, Sherlock come on." Molly insisted, dragging Sherlock unnecessarily to the little cart near the path. There were people swarming all over it, very healthy looking people spreading fat free dressing over their salads, hip people studying the menu board with their dyed hair and rainbow high socks, and very sad looking obese people looking down sadly at their small salads. It was a nightmare, all of it.
"This would be a good place to find a significant other." John decided.
"Not all vegetarians are gay." Sherlock snapped. They waited in line for a good five minutes, picking out their different types of lettuce (honestly, how were there so many choices?), toppings, and dressing. When the waitress asked for Sherlock's order he flinched so badly that Molly gasped. So, Molly ordered for Sherlock, and in ten minutes their salads came out in little brown plates made of recycled paper, large, delicious looking salads overflowing with yummy vegetables. Sherlock loved salads, as much as he enjoyed a greasy cheeseburger that would probably kill him; he also enjoyed a nice, pure salad with vegetables and good dressing. It wasn't the vegetarian food that scared him, so much as the judgmental glances he always felt like he got when he passed. Maybe he was just being too self-conscious, which was also another very probably theory. They sat down on the edge of the fountain, which was still bubbling along, spraying water through jets concealed inside bird's beaks or something like that. They were silent for a little bit, feeling the mist from the fountain spray their backs, and enjoying their salads.
"See, that wasn't so bad, was it Sherlock?" Molly asked.
"I swear, she gave me a glare." Sherlock insisted.
"Shush, you're just being dramatic." Molly decided.
"You should've seen it." Sherlock muttered. Molly just rolled her eyes, continuing on her arugula salad as if she hadn't heard Sherlock's last comment. When they had finished, Molly threw all of the trash away and John and Sherlock were left alone on the edge of the fountain, looking around awkwardly and avoiding direct conversation.
"Nice day out." John decided.
"As far as November days go, I suppose so." Sherlock agreed.
"Almost December, almost Christmas. I swear I heard some Christmas music on the radio." John insisted.
"That's unnecessary; I can't stand the same songs over and over for how many months for how many years. It gives me chills just thinking about it." Sherlock admitted.
"I think they're nice. Remind me of when I was a kid, Christmas morning, all that stuff." John admitted.
"My parents always have my brother and me up for Christmas, always encourage us to bring our 'special someone', more like a desperate cry for grandchildren." Sherlock sighed.
"Your brother is gay too?" John asked.
"No, he just has this strict no dating policy. Claims its so that he's not distracted, I think it's just an excuse for never being able to get a girlfriend in the first place." Sherlock decided.
"That's mean." John laughed.
"It's true though. I tried to bring Molly one year, but she was busy." Sherlock sighed.
"I'll go with you this year, if you want." John offered.
"You're not a significant other." Sherlock pointed out.
"Shut up, I can be whatever I want to be." John insisted.
"You'll hate my family, I sure of it." Sherlock pointed out.
"If they're as bad as you, then maybe I'll just pass." John decided.
"Don't leave me all alone with my horrid family." Sherlock begged.
"It's only November Sherlock, we've got time." John insisted, splashing Sherlock a little bit with the water from the fountain.
"Oh come on, I just washed these pants!" Sherlock groaned as the grimy water soaked into his clothes.
"Aw, poor Sherlock, laundry issues." John laughed.
"Shut up!" Sherlock yelled, splashing John even more aggressively, right in the back.
"You've going to pay for that one." John decided. Sherlock scooted away in terror, knowing that John would somehow manage to drown him in a splash. John came right after him, running alongside the edge of the fountain and splashing Sherlock right in the face with a large blast of water. Sherlock spat and coughed, scowling severely.
"Let the war begin." He decided, and with that he pushed John right into the fountain. John didn't go under water, there was barely a foot of water collecting in the bottom of the pool, but it was enough to get him livid. With a yelp, Sherlock was dragged in right after him, John pulling him in from behind and pushing Sherlock under the water. It was as close to wrestling as Sherlock was ever going to get, pushing water in each other's faces and pushing each other down into the fountain, wet and shivering but with big smiles, as if they could think of nothing more entertaining to do than try to drown each other. As soon as John got the upper hand, pushing Sherlock's head underwater so that just his nose stuck out to breath, Sherlock heard Molly's shrill scream, even though the water. He was suddenly free, so he rose out of the water very cautiously, as if not to startle the fuming water.
"Out of the fountain, both of you!" she yelled. John and Sherlock exchanged guilty glances, but trudged out of the fountain, their clothes weighed down with the newfound weight of the dirty water.
"You're children, honestly." Molly groaned.
"John started it." Sherlock defended, trying to wring out his clothes the best he could. 
"And yet obviously you fought back." Molly pointed out.
"It was a pride thing." Sherlock assured.
"Well, I guess we have to get back home, before you two find a mud puddle and decide to wage war." Molly groaned, sounding exasperated but amused.
"Sorry Molly." John muttered, his smile lopsided and his hair drooping over his face. But of course, Sherlock didn't notice that. 
"Don't apologize for taking part in the noble act of war." Sherlock insisted.
"Sherlock, I'm waiting for an apology from you." Molly pointed out.
"Sorry." Sherlock muttered with a frown.
"Now, we're all going to go home and have a nice shower, and I'll run all your clothes through my dryer." Molly offered.
"You're too nice to us." Sherlock insisted.
"Too right you are." Molly agreed with a proud smile.