Jumpers and Boredom

Chapter 1

Sherlock sat alone in the flat in his usual position. Feet tucked up underneath him as he sat perched in his chair with his elbows tucked close to his sides and his hands joined together right below his chin as he was thinking.

He was sporting his usual pajamas, blue sweat pants and a gray t-shirt hanging loosely on his lean frame. He eyed the room becoming impatient, he had solved a tediously simple case a few days earlier and had nothing to preoccupy himself.

John was at work and after that he would run to the store to do grocery shopping. Sherlock had made a mess of the kitchen and was secretly poring the milk down the drain for weeks seeing if John would notice, of course he hadn't but it was still a bit of a rush even if a small one for the detective.

He always played silly little mind games like this and would mess with the doctor from time to time. Ounce he had moved his chair an inch each day and it ended up in the kitchen. John had suspected him when it ended up where the table should have gone and tried to make Sherlock put it back exactly where it was.

It wasn't at all a challenge for him because he could see clearly where it had been by the dents in the carpet but of course he wasn't going to give up that easily. He put the chair everywhere but the spot it belonged and eventually John gave up on giving Sherlock this simple task and moved it himself.

But as soon as John had gone out he went over and adjusted it perfectly aligning it with the indents on the carpeted floor. Sometimes it amazed Sherlock how John could miss the simplest of details in his surroundings, like he always said, 'You see but you do not observe'.

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Sherlock smirked at this memory and turned over so that he was now upside down in his arm chair with his head hanging off grazing the floor and his arms and legs spread out lazily over the chair's entire frame.

He ruffled his hair and let out an annoyed breath. 'What am I going to do for the next few hours he thought?'. He eyed John's oatmeal jumper lying in a heap on the floor. It was one of John's favorites, Sherlock had to admit that it did look good on him. He smiled imagining the doctor in it, his blogger he thought. Then shook his head.

'I know' he thought, 'another experiment on John'. He mused over what he could possibly do to John that he hasn't already. 'Maybe I should hide his tea bags?'

He flopped off his chair and started to walk towards the kitchen when he heard a small, soft noise come from the jumper still lying on the floor.

He tilted his head to the side and made a hesitant step towards the heap. Something inside stirred and made another noise.

Sherlock took another step forward and knelt down beside the stirring jumper. "Oh?" He questioned, this had to be interesting. 'What ever was in that jumper had to be John's', Sherlock thought. 'What if John were smuggling something into the flat?'

Then another thought came across his mind as he slowly reached for the fabric, 'What if it was a mouse?'.

He shivered and retracted his hand, he hated mice. Well, not if they were in a cage and he was experimenting on them. But them mucking about his flat doing "who knows what" was a different story.

Another quiver came from the knitted fabric, what ever was in there was trying to get out. He bit his lip. Then came another soft noise. This didn't sound like any mouse he has heard.

He rose a questioning eye brow and slowly reached for the collar of the jumper with a quivering hand. When his hand had reached the collar he slowly pulled it back when a head popped out and he stumbled backwards into John's chair, hitting his head and landing on his backside.

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A/N Tell me what you think so far!!