The Dark Case of Jack

Chapter Six B

Here's the B chapter. Sorry about the wait, life's been crazy
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John sunk down in his chair, still trying to process what all had happened.

A small part of him hoped he had been delusional, that he had not bared witness to Sherlock and Molly snogging.

The more he thought about it, the more he figured it had all been a ruse.

Sitting up straight, John focussed on the details a bit more. How could he have been so foolish, of course it hadn't been real.

The image of Molly's leg around Sherlock's waist flashed through his mind making him waver from his prior convictions.

Even Sherlock couldn't pretend that, let alone poor innocent Molly.

Glancing at the door, John wondered why Sherlock had left for his jacket. Obviously it would be at the lab tomorrow.

Letting out a sigh, John checked the time, four in the morning. He needed to get some sleep, needed to escape the strange ache in his chest that only worsened the longer Sherlock was gone.

John had no more than made an effort to rise, when the door burst open to reveal the tall detective.

He had the coat and dress in his hands, the bright red material bringing more thoughts to John's mind.

As usual, Sherlock moved about the apartment unaware that his flatmate stood there in silence.

The garments were hung carefully on a doorjamb before Sherlock made his way to the fridge. No doubt to inspect his latest experiment.

John had already given up on the fridge and bought a small one that he kept locked in his room. The words, 'food only, no experiments' had been labeled on the door as a precaution.

Shaking his head, John headed up to his room, unable to look at Sherlock for another second.

He had barely managed to climb into his bed when a soft knock sounded.

"Its four in the morning Sherlock, what do you want?" He asked not even bothering to hide his agitation.

The door opened to reveal Sherlock, still in those ridiculously tight black pants and maroon shirt he had changed into.

"Tea?" Sherlock asked offering a cup.

John narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The last time Sherlock had willingly made him a cup he had laced it with what he had thought to be drugged sugar.

A small smirk crossed Sherlock's face before he said, "it's just tea, with cream and no sugar."

Sitting up, John wearily accepted the cup, sniffing the light brown liquid before taking a cautious sip.

Sherlock seemed to take that as an invitation of sorts and plopped down on the edge of John's bed.

A low hum of awareness filled John's body as he fought to avoid eye contact with Sherlock.

"So another case in the bag," he said, nervously.

Sherlock made a non commited grunt in response to the praise he had begun to crave from his flatmate.

"Have you decided on the title yet?" Sherlock kept his tone neutral as he slowly observed John's room.

It hadn't changed since the last time he had been in here but he still found it's contents fascinating, just like the man himself was interesting.

John shrugged, "Jack the Busboy? Doesn't have a good ring to it."

"Hmmm, how about The Dark Case of Jack?" Sherlock suggested.