"HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO STUPID?!" Sherlock bellowed at the top of his voice.
After four hours of my silent reading in his chair, and his silent pacing back and forth, this exclamation made sure that my book went flying into the air, and my heart almost jumped out of my chest.
Before I had time to process it, Sherlock was dancing around the room, slapping himself on the forehead, the way he did when he'd worked something 'obvious' out... no matter how definitely not obvious it was to everyone else.
As my heart rate slowed and my mind began to process the difference between my fiction book and reality, I managed to ask the simple question, "What is it, Sherlock?"
I didn't get an answer for a moment, but then suddenly, his face was in mine and he was panting through the excitement. I was wide-eyed and considerably confused by now, but I took a long blink and prepared myself.
"I've been so blind," he shook his head, still inches away from mine.
I let him process it in his own way.
"It was obvious. It had to be the wife."
"But you ruled her out because of her shoes?"
"Yes, but who's to say she didn't change shoes?"
"You said she wouldn't have had time?"
"Not unless she'd taken a spare pair of shoes with her!"
"You think she did?" I asked, wondering how this ties everything together... but then his face dropped. He sunk to his knees in front of me, and placed his hands over his eyes.
"STUPID!" he screamed again. He thrashed around as he stood up and started pacing again. "Of course she didn't. She would never carry a bag, no matter what she was planning, she would never carry a bag."
"Maybe he carried it for her?" I questioned. "He was under the thumb..."
He stopped walking and stared directly at me for at least two solid minutes. I couldn't help but stare back, directly into his eyes, so mysterious and inviting. I watched him work - his mind buzzing with every possibility and unrelenting intelligence. I could almost see each thought, but they moved too fast for me to catch them.
The time passed slowly, but I didn't mind, until he broke it violently. "I'M SO STUPID!"
I'd had more than enough of hearing him say that so, calmly, I stood. I rearranged my clothes after sitting down for so long, and smiled. I walked over to Sherlock, who was pacing again, and stood in his path.
He came to abrupt stop in front of me, and I had to try hard not to let his intense stare throw me off. I knew what I had to do - I had to calm him down and give his wonderful brain a moment to breathe. I stared at him.
"What?" he asked, annoyed.
"You have to calm down."
"No I don't. I have to solve this case."
"And you can't do that while you're so stupid." I mocked.
"Why did you say it like that?"
I felt my heart start to race as his mind altered from one train of thought to another - from the case to me.
"Because you're not stupid Sherlock. You know you're not."
"Then why can't I solve this one?"
"Because you're tired. And you're trying too hard."
"Or I'm being stupid?"
"And if you're being stupid, what does that make me?"
His eyes flickered with some emotion that didn't normally cross his face. Some contemplation that wouldn't normally occur to him, but I didn't have time to work it out - was it sympathy? Or regret perhaps? I didn't know.
"You're not stupid," he muttered.
"No, I'm not." I said it with confidence, even though I didn't feel it. "And I haven't solved it... so use your big brain and tell me, doesn't that automatically make you not stupid?!"
Sherlock hung his head for a moment. I placed my hands either side of his face and made him look at me. "Maybe you are stupid," I smiled. "Maybe you're an idiot. Maybe you're the biggest tit ever to grace this earth, but you know what, Sherlock? That's okay. You're allowed to be a tit sometimes. And you know what else? I'm a tit too. I'm just as confused about this case, but I always will be. You'll understand it though, maybe today, maybe tomorrow, but you will understand it eventually. For now, are you happy to be a tit with me?"
For the first time in a long time, Sherlock smirked. He stayed silent for a moment, and then his face went completely serious again. He looked me dead in the eye and said, "Yes. I hear they come great in pairs."
I laughed loudly, internally thanking the world for bringing me such a brilliant mind. It only took fifteen minutes after this exchange for him to figure the whole case out and start his next one. I'm glad to say that sometimes, just sometimes, even the most ingenious people are idiots too.
