The Private Lives of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John H. Watson

Chapter 2

"How much longer do I have to stay here!?"

"Stop it you tit."

"Time is being wasted."

"Because you have better things to do?"

"Of course I do!"

"Nope. Your only job at the moment is to heal."

"I could be doing that back at the flat." I frown.

Everything was so dull and irritating.

I clench my hand to stop myself from scratching my healing wound.

I look at the morphine pump before staring back at the ceiling.

"No. If you were at the flat then you would be on the computer, pacing the floors, out in the street doing god knows what or exploding something in the kitchen."

"Of course." I shrug.

He sighs.

I look at him.

He had been a constant presence and I was not ashamed to exploit my injury to have him here with me 24/7.

But he was clearly tired and the cafeteria food (if it could be called that) was not enough to reanimate him.

"Pass me my phone."

"Nope."

"John."

He looks at me and I stare back.

He picks up my mobile and hands it to me.

"Thank you."

He sits back in the awful chair by my bedside and turns his gaze back to the telly.

Angelo, I need you to deliver your best meal, complete with dessert to St. Barts, room 412. –S.H.

Mycroft, John needs a better chair that will not cause him any discomfort. –S.H.

The only thing causing him discomfort is you. –M.H.

Send one of your henchmen with one of the ridiculously plush leather chairs you keep in your office. –S.H.

What's the magic word? –M.H.

Mummy. –S.H.

Will be delivered in 15 minutes, so good to hear you are alive. -Angelo

On its way. –M.H.

I smirk and set down my phone.

"What's got you so happy then?"

"Oh, nothing much."

"Right."

"Yoo-hoo!"

"Mrs. Hudson." John says standing.

"Oh Sherlock, you are looking so much better today dear. How do you feel?"

She kisses my hair.

"I'm perfectly fine Mrs. Hudson."

Mrs. Hudson and John share a look and I roll my eyes.

"Have a seat." John offers.

Mrs. Hudson sits down in the vacated chair.