The One Next Door

Maniacal Morning Mumblings

    When Sherlock woke up, it was because John was just starting to stir, moving the limbs that had gone numb and stretching sore muscles.
"Sorry to wake you." John muttered.
"It's alright, what time is it?" Sherlock asked.
"Around five thirty." John muttered, yawning widely.
"We finally get a morning in then." Sherlock decided.
"I guess we do." John agreed.
"I wonder how Molly's doing on her Molly day." Sherlock sighed.
"She's probably asleep on the couch with an empty tub of ice cream as her pillow." John guessed.
"I like my pillow a lot more than a tub of ice cream." Sherlock decided, repositioning his head so that it sat on John's shoulder, turning his head a little bit so that he could press a quick kiss on John's cheek.
"Do you even know what day it is today?" John asked.
"Why, is it a holiday?" Sherlock asked worriedly.
"No, I don't think so, I meant like, day of the week." John shrugged.
"It doesn't really matter to me. No matter if it's Monday or Saturday, I'll still be working." Sherlock sighed.
"Isn't that like, illegal or something?" John asked.
"It's part time, so I guess not." Sherlock admitted.
"When are you going to look for a permanent job?" John asked.
"When I can no longer afford to have the one at the coffee shop. When things change." Sherlock shrugged.
"What type of change might that be?" John asked.
"Well, my income is enough to support one person. I don't know, I might get sick, I might need a car for some reason, I might get married, have a kid, and I'm sure a coffee shop pay check wouldn't pay for a lifetime supply of diapers." Sherlock guessed.
"You want children?" John asked.
"I don't know really, it depends on my spouse. Kids are annoying, but it's nice to have an impact on someone, it's nice to see yourself reflected in a younger form, so send off to who knows where." Sherlock sighed.
"I'd want a kid." John decided.
"Well, you've got a better chance at getting one then I will." Sherlock decided.
"What do you mean by that?" John asked.
"Well, if you get yourself a wife, it'll be a lot less effort than adopting." Sherlock decided.
"What makes you think I'll get a wife? That's an interesting thing to say as we're curled up on the couch together." John pointed out.
"Well, you're bisexual, right? And I'm gay, I've got no chance of having a baby of my own, you do." Sherlock shrugged.
"What makes you think I'll end up with a woman? What makes you think that I don't want to end up with the man currently using me as a pillow?" John asked. Sherlock flushed a deep shade of scarlet, turning his head so that he could kind of see the seriousness in his eyes.
"You see us going somewhere?" Sherlock asked.
"I see us going everywhere. I love you, you love me, what else do we need?" John asked.
"I don't know, I thought you'd want to move onto someone, better." Sherlock admitted.
"I did, a couple of days ago, on a staircase." John insisted. Sherlock smiled again, holding John's arms around him as if trying to make sure he'll never let go.
"I can see a future for us too; I'd love to have a future with you." Sherlock agreed.
"Then obviously we've come to an agreement." John decided.
"Was that the most secretive marriage proposal ever known to man?" Sherlock muttered nervously.
"No, nothing like that. But, if that time ever comes, I hope the answer never changes." John assured.
"You'll find something about me, something that you don't like, I'm sure of it." Sherlock decided. "I'm not perfect."
"Exactly Sherlock. If you were perfect, it would be a lot harder to love you. But I love your flaws almost as much as I love your perfections; it's what makes you human. It's what makes you beautiful." John insisted.
"I don't know how to respond to that." Sherlock decided. "You're too smooth, too sweet for me."
"You don't really have to respond. If you did, you might not be taking me seriously enough." John insisted. Sherlock nodded, staring at the ceiling and trying his hardest to say something nice, something even remotely romantic to try to make sure John knew how much he loved him back. But at that moment, Dudley woke up with a yawn, getting to his feet and looking around sleepily. Whether he wanted to eat, or play, or go out, Sherlock didn't know, but he saw the two of them curled up on the couch and his stubby little tail started wagging, and he jumped up onto Sherlock's lap, running up and licking both of their faces excitedly, snorting and bouncing around. Sherlock laughed, trying his best to push the dog away from his face, but it was a lost battle.
"I guess I've got competition." John decided, sliding out from a now squirming and giggling Sherlock and pulling the bull dog off of him.
"Let's take him out." John decided, pulling on his coat and sliding bedroom slippers on.
"What, both of us?" Sherlock asked.
"It would be unfair to have one of us go out in the cold and the other stay here in the warmth." John decided.
"Alright then." Sherlock decided, sliding into his shoes. John was still in his suit, the jacket discarded and the vest unbuttoned, his hair sticking up in odd directions and a couple of his toes poking out through holes in his worn blue slippers. Needless to say, it was adorable.
"We probably look like sad clowns." Sherlock decided as they made their way down the stairs, Dudley pulling anxiously on the leash.
"There'll be no one out at this hour." John assured, walking out side to a blast of cold air. It had snowed overnight, as Sherlock had predicted, just a light dusting. But it was enough to chill through Sherlock's shoes and get Dudley all covered in powdery snow as he frolicked around in the grass.
"It's like a winter wonderland." John decided with a laugh.
"It's cold." Sherlock muttered.
"You should've worn a jacket." John pointed out.
"I wasn't going to go over to my flat just to get a jacket, that's stupid." Sherlock insisted.
"You're stupid." John agreed.
"How very creative, burn on me." Sherlock sighed.
"Alright, Dudley's done, let's go." John decided, shivering as he held the door open for Sherlock to walk inside. As they walked inside, Mrs. Turner was standing near the mailboxes, fully dressed in some sort of neon pink suit with a floral scarf tied so tightly around her neck that it seemed to be asphyxiating her.
"Good morning Mrs. Turner." John said with a smile. Mrs. Turner looked up from flipper through her letters and her face paled.
"Mr. Watson you better stay away from that man. He's a homosexual." She warned, her eyes flashing behind her glasses.
"Don't I know it." John agreed, taking Sherlock's hand in his with a smile. Mrs. Turner nearly dropped her mail in disgust.
"Have a nice day." Sherlock added, and together they walked up the stairs, their fingers still interlocked.
"Certainly gave her a scare." John decided.
"She deserves it, that little witch." Sherlock agreed.
"She's a nice lady, maybe a bit set in her ways." John shrugged.
"I better go get ready; I'll meet you at Molly's?" Sherlock asked.
"Sounds like a plan." John agreed, kissing Sherlock very quickly, as a small sign of farewell, before walking into his apartment, dragging Dudley inside and closing the door. Sherlock sighed, smiling slightly to himself before fumbling for his key and unlocking his apartment door. About ten minutes later, Sherlock was in a new outfit, his hair freshly combed, his breath minty fresh, and his face washed. He felt considerably less tired now that he had dolled up, and he knocked on Molly's door around normal time.
"Oh, hello Sherlock." Molly said with a smile, just starting on her cereal.
"You sound surprised." Sherlock decided.
"Well, since you and John got together, you haven't been by in the mornings much." Molly sighed, holding the door open for Sherlock to come in.
"Well I haven't forgotten my best friend." Sherlock insisted.
"I didn't say you did." Molly defended, closing the door and sitting back down at the kitchen table.
"So, how was Molly's night off?" Sherlock asked.
"It was amazing. I had ice cream, I watched movies, and I fell asleep at eight o'clock!" Molly said proudly.
"What a wild child!" Sherlock exclaimed.
"I'm always so busy; I never get to bed any earlier than ten." Molly defended.
"Well, that's a nice contrast then." Sherlock agreed.
"How was your night?" Molly asked.
"John had a 'date in a box'. Sent me to take the dog out, when I came back he romanticized the flat and we ate Chinese." Sherlock shrugged. Molly smiled, raising her eyebrows as if expecting more. "Nothing more, some kissing, some cuddling, nothing more." Sherlock defended.
"I thought you'd be a lot more, okay with that, after..." Molly started, but Sherlock's glare cut her off.
"Nothing more." Sherlock insisted, and Molly sighed in defeat.
"I heard some talking in the stairwell when I was waking up, I assume it was you?" Molly guessed.
"Ya, ran into little old Mrs. Turner reading her mail. Funny though, I could've sworn someone burned her at the stake already..." Sherlock sighed.
"Oh stop it Sherlock. What did she have to say?" Molly asked, scraping the last of the Coco Puffs out of her bowl and leaving the remaining milk to Hell Spawn.
"She warned John that I'm a homosexual. I was overly surprised myself, to be honest, I had no idea." Sherlock said sarcastically.
"What did John say?" Molly asked.
"He said 'don't I know it' and held my hand. You should've seen the look on her face, it was hysterical." Sherlock laughed.
"Well, now that you've both scared the poor lady, I'd worry about her desecrating your mail boxes, or possibly calling the cops. And don't ever expect cookies or a dollar on your birthdays." Molly warned.
"Even I forget my birthday; I wouldn't expect Mrs. Turner to. I'm not sure that she even knows my name, other than the guy who tried to kiss my son." Sherlock admitted.
"Maybe you should work to fix that title." Molly guessed.
"It fits me." Sherlock shrugged, and Molly just laughed.
"I suppose it does." She agreed. Just as Molly got up, there was a knock on the door, and John stood there, looking awake and ready for the day.
"Good morning John." Molly said with a pleasant smile.
"It is a pretty good morning, isn't it?" John agreed, walking inside and stroking the top of Hell Spawn's head as the cat licked the milk up in Molly's cereal bowl.
"What makes it such a good morning?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, it's not what, it's who. I woke up with a very beautiful man, and I'd count that as a good omen." John decided, making Sherlock blush and look nervously at Molly.
"I heard nothing." Molly decided, going over to the bathroom to start on her hair. Sherlock sighed, sitting on the kitchen table and looking at John accusingly.
"Don't you think that was a bit...forward?" Sherlock asked.
"It's that the point? You don't seem to be the type of man that can pick up hints." John decided.
"Well, in front of Molly, I know she's alright with it..." Sherlock sighed.
"You're saying I'm making Molly uncomfortable, or am I making you uncomfortable?" John asked.
"Maybe a little bit of both." Sherlock admitted.
"Are you uncomfortable because I'm being forward, or because Molly's right there?" John asked.
"Don't get me wrong, you're a charmer, and I love hearing that stuff in private, but yes, with Molly here, I mean, what if Tom was sitting on the couch and he heard?" Sherlock pointed out.
"Tom's not here, right? Because it's only been two days for those two, and I'd kick him so far he'll be pushed into oncoming traffic." John warned.
"John, it wasn't even a day for us." Sherlock pointed out.
"We don't count, that was long overdue, they met at a grocery store." John insisted.
"I can hear you, you know?" Molly called.
"Good! You pass the message on to him, alright?" John agreed. Sherlock heard her laugh and go back to whatever torture device she was pulling through her hair.
"So, how's your morning going then?" John asked.
"It was perfect for the same reasons." Sherlock decided.
"You should work on making your own comments." John laughed.
"I'm sorry, you know I'm awkward, you probably have a list somewhere, I'm not good at making some feel...special." Sherlock decided.
"That's because no one can ever feel special while compared to you." John agreed.
"Good one John!" Molly called from the bathroom, and Sherlock just giggled a little bit.
"See what I mean?" Sherlock asked.
"Must be a hard life Sherlock." John agreed.
"It's just terrible." Sherlock laughed.
"Did you get that company text message?" Molly asked, walking out of the bathroom with her hair in curls.
"No, I'm not waiting my data on company text messages." Sherlock insisted.
"Well, the party has been confirmed, the weekend before Christmas." Molly decided.
"Oh brilliant, I have to suffer through a company Christmas party." Sherlock growled.
"You get a plus one, if that helps anything." Molly pointed out.
"Oh yay, I have to suffer through a company Christmas party." John groaned.
"It'll be fun; you already get along great with the workers in our shift, what's three other groups?" Molly asked.
"You're just excited because you can see Tom more." Sherlock decided.
"Shockingly, my boyfriend doesn't live across the hall." Molly insisted.
"There's a fire hydrant across the hall from you, isn't that enough?" John pointed out.
"You two are insufferable. I'm excited because it will be fun, Jeanette and Sarah are planning the whole thing, and I'm sure Sarah knows how to throw a good party." Molly guessed.
"It'll be torture." Sherlock decided, and John nodded in agreement.
"Well, that's what it's like to have a job, sorry. You get dragged to things you don't want to do, and company Christmas parties definitely fall under the category. Speaking of jobs, we have to get going." Molly decided, pulling on her coat and holding the door for them to walk out.
"Oh, it's so pretty out!" Molly said happily when they walked out the main door into the snow. It was flurrying again, a light layer of snow blanketing everything in sight.
"It's cold." Sherlock decided.
"What happened to those positive attitudes? I thought it was a great morning?" Molly pointed out.
"It is a great morning; Mr. Grumpy here just doesn't like the idea of a Christmas party." John defended.
"Well, Sherlock, get a smile on that face, because no one wants their coffee made by the Grinch." Molly decided.
"Once again, they gang up on me." Sherlock sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking faster. YYYr7尜,