His Doctor~

Chapter 18

Slowly the violin strings were pulled, only by finger tips... gently. The silence between notes of the instrument was so quiet, so still... letting the dust float peacefully in air in a never ending pattern. The string reached its maximum stretch, being pulled by pale and skinny fingers. The fibers of the cord being separated microscopically, pulling apart and ready to release... then, when the silence was done it's turn, the fingers pulled away from the string... slowly sliding of the surface on the cord, taking dust and leaving bits of oil. Then...

Twang

The note erupts from the vibrations of the violin string, shattering the silence that enveloped the space surrounding it. It leaves an echo of the sweetest of fashions, perfect in the sound. The purpose of pulling that string, extracting that perfect note, was fulfilled. After the note's echoes stopped, the silence would surround again... carrying the dust peacefully in never ending pattern.

Or you could say, Sherlock was thinking. And the incurable habit of playing violin followed him without trying.

"Coventry!" Sherlock exclaimed, after nearly two hours of silence.

"I've never been." Irene replied, sitting in Jo-Ann's chair that was directly across from him. Sherlock's eyes focused, and were genuinely surprised she was there. He didn't need to turn his head or look in a direction he wasn't before... she was right there. His jaw dropped slightly, being fairly confused.

"Is it nice?" she asked politely. Sherlock looked at her, concerned, before speaking.

"Where's Jo-Ann?" he asked hesitantly, noticing she was wearing his robe and her hair was down. She looked puzzled for a moment and answered slowly.

"She went out... an hour ago..." said Irene. Sherlock didn't move an inch this whole conversation.

"I was just talking to her." He replied in a distracted manner, darting his eyes as if to look for his doctor.

"Yeah, she said you do that." Irene said uncomfortably. Sherlock sighed and settled in his chair, annoyed that he had to wait to tell Jo-Ann new information.

"What's Coventry got to do with anything?" Irene asked, going back to the first thing he said. Sherlock inhaled slowly, not really wanting to speak to her.

"... It's a story... probably not true." He stated. Irene adjusted herself in her chair, like a child would when they wanted to hear a story. Sherlock sighed and began explaining.

"In the second world war, the Allies knew that Coventry was going to be bombed because they'd broken the German code. But they didn't want the Germans to know they'd broken the code." Irene listened with much interest. Honestly, this man could read of his grocery list and it would be interesting. "So they let it happen anyway." He finished, explaining as simply as possible. It was a short story, but Irene was smitten. His deep voice mixed with the dim light of the fireplace and his over-all attractiveness was making her crazy inside.

"Have you ever had anyone?" she asked randomly. Sherlock blinked for a moment, trying to understand what that even was. When it came to sex references, he was the opposite of a genius.

"I'm... sorry?" his brow furrowed. Irene smiled a bit, both loving and wanting to take away that innocence.

"And when I say had, I'm being indelicate." She continued.

"I don't understand." Sherlock admitted. Irene took the opportunity and got up from her chair.

"I'll be delicate then." She walked over to his chair, causing the detective to inwardly panic. She kneeled in front of him, gently placing her hand on top of his own on the armrest. "Let's have dinner."