Signs of Devotion (Johnlock)

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters but this story is my own original work.

 

Signs of Devotion

“Why does he never answer the bloody door!” Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade bit out through chattering teeth. He and Sally Donovan were stood on the doorstep to 221b Baker Street late at night and in the frigid weather that had descended upon London for the last two days.

Sally was about to press the doorbell for the sixth time when she halted “Wait… I can hear footsteps!”

The door was unbolted and Mrs Hudson’s long suffering face appeared before them “Oh dear, have you two been out here long?”

“We have, yes. Sherlock’s not answering the door… again. May we come in?” Greg enquired, hopping about from foot to foot in an attempt to keep warm.

“Yes of course dear.” She stepped aside to allow them entrance.” You know, I found the doorbell in the fridge the other day. Apparently he put it in there because ‘it kept ringing’. Such a funny man, makes no sense at all to me most of the time. He does the strangest things in that flat. Why just yesterday…”

“Yes, thank you for letting us in Mrs Hudson. We have an important case to solve so we’ll just go on up.” Greg interrupted Sherlock’s chatty landlady for fear that she might keep them on the staircase for hours.

Greg and Sally hastily made their way upstairs and upon finding the door to Sherlock and John’s flat open, they let themselves in. Sherlock was lying on the sofa in his pyjamas and robe, arranged in his usual pose with his hands pressed together in front of his face, eyes shut, not acknowledging them in the slightest.

Greg leaned in to whisper in Sally’s ear “He’s in his mind palace”.

Sally Donovan rolled her eyes and watched as Greg silently approached the prone detective before shouting “Sherlock!” in his face.

To his credit Sherlock didn’t jump as expected but simply cracked one eye open lazily at the Detective Inspector. “Not today” He mumbled and shut his eye again.

Greg turned to look at Sally who had her mouth open and hands out as if to say ‘why do you even bother with him?’

“What are you doing that’s so important?” Greg demanded.

“I’m busy.” was Sherlock’s short and petulant reply.

“With what? You appear to be lounging around in your pyjamas.” Greg’s irritation was mounting rapidly.

“Not interested. Thanks for stopping by.”

 Greg decided to ignore the dismissal “Sherlock, we need your help, a man has…”

“I said… not today Lestrade!” Sherlock rose off the sofa, stepped over the table and stomped in to the kitchen. Greg and Sally could hear him turn the kettle on and set about making some tea.