Rules on the Fridge [A BBC Sherlock Holmes Fanfiction] (Completed)

I See The Moon

♪ Distance Doesn't Ruin a Relationship; Doubts Do ♪

What had he done now? Watson rose from his chair, brushing his hands against his thighs as he looked toward the kitchen. A very loud popping sound had just come from there, and then stifled excitement followed. He walked towards the doorway with internal hesitance, but it didn't show at all outwardly since he'd just stormed in with a frown on his face.

"What have you done now?" Watson asked, looking to where Holmes's hands had been moments before to see a dark spot on the counter and various pieces of... stuff... clinging to the walls and countertops. "Sherlock!" He exclaimed, going over to the scene to take a closer look. He went to touch it, but Holmes smacked his hand away.

"Do you have a death wish?" He asked, having just put rubber gloves on his hands to slowly peel a piece of the stuff from the wall, then place it onto a Petri dish to look at under his microscope. "Honestly, John. I'm not doing anything terribly bad."

"Well, what is it you've done?" Watson questioned, following him to the microscope, his body language speaking out his sternness for him. Arms folded firmly across his chest, eyebrows down, eyes narrowed, and the corners of his mouth turned downward. You couldn't get more of a 'disappointed parent' look from anyone.

"An experiment." Holmes said, his mind busy. He fiddled with the wheels and dials on the microscope. Watson rolled his eyes, swiping the Petri dish, that Holmes had so perfectly placed, away. His head whipped back to look at Watson, standing up to be quite a bit taller than him. "Give it back." He said, putting his hand out.

"What have you done?" John asked, matching Holmes's intensity with a stern, almost grumpy expression.

"Honestly, John! You're not my mother!" He said, almost whining now. "Give it back, I'm on the verge of something!"

"Of what?" Watson asked, his expression remaining static.

Holmes got tired of this conversation, grabbing another Petri dish and pulling another piece of the stuff from the wall to try again. Watson had grabbed the microscope during that time and was holding it awkwardly, but steadily.

This earned him quite a look from Holmes. "You've got to be kidding me." He mused, his face falling expressionless and dead when he looked towards Watson. "What do you think I'm going to do? Kill myself with it?"

"Who knows?" Watson countered loudly, glaring at him now. "Tell me what you're doing." John adjusted his arms slightly, his eyes locked firmly on Holmes.

Holmes mumbled angrily to himself, pacing back and forth with the new Petri dish in his hand. "I'm not sure how to explain it to you." Holmes said, sitting down where the microscope was, waiting for Watson to place it before him, but it didn't happen. He looked incredulously at Watson for this lack of acceptance over his answer. "What am I supposed to say?" He asked, his voice matching that of a whiny child.

"What did you... explode?" Watson asked, gesturing with his head toward the mess he'd made. Holmes rolled his eyes and groaned loudly, standing back up to pace.

He huffed, running a gloved hand through his hair in irritation. "You're not my mother!" He yelled, facing Watson fully now.

"No, I'm not. I'm your flat mate. And you've just exploded something in our kitchen." He said, his voice repeating rhythmic patterns as he spoke as if to a child who should've known better.

Holmes' face relax and his mouth hang open slightly as he thought about it. "Okay, well the stuff on the walls is a corrosive material that can eat away at flesh. I've just created it." He said, hoping that would suffice.