Cally's Sherlock drabble thread #1 442/442

[cally]

I too love Mycroft and his polite sneezes, and John blessing him. I'm such a sucker for blessings. And of course Sherlock not being the center of attention cracks me up. Now he may have to get sick just to get some attention. *evil grin

I am too! I always feel bad in fics when a character sneezes and don't get blessed. I always end up saying it. I'm so weird, I know.

Mycroft is all back to being stuck up and repressed now that he's away from Gregory. I thought about having him be less in control, in this situation, but I didn't think it would be *Mycroft-like.*

And don't you worry, John and Sherlock will soon be suffering.

[cally]

I've written over 10K words for all of these drabbles. If only I could be that successful in the writing of my thesis.

41. note

Mycroft returned to the car and prepared to start his day. There were files to review before his first meeting, and the inevitable traffic that he would face by diverting to Baker Street first thing.

His nose still twitching, he managed to half-stifle the impending sneeze- Mmmpftch- into his shoulder.

This gained him a look of concern from Anthea. “God bless you, sir,” she said quietly.

Mycroft sniffed. “Thank you,” he replied.

He opened his briefcase and found a small package inside. It contained a dove grey silk handkerchief, a foil packet of Sudafed and another of Paracetamol, a travel pack of tissues, and a small piece of dark chocolate- Mycroft’s favourite. Alongside was a note. ‘Feel better. XX –G.’

Mycroft smiled, impressed with the detective inspector. He must have been very sneaky to do that, only after Mycroft had packed up his case for the day.

42. curious

Mycroft sat back with his files and began to read.

Ten minutes into his reading, a movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him. Anthea looked pale and tired. She was now rubbing the tip of her nose gently. Mycroft watched her out of the corner of his eye, with a combination of curiousness and worry.

A moment later, Anthea completely silently stifled another sneeze, not wanting to attract attention from her employer.

“God bless you, Anthea.”

“Excuse me, sir. Thank you.” She sniffed carefully, blushing slightly.

43. briefcase

Mycroft put his paperwork to the side and opened his briefcase. He took out his extra handkerchief (not the one Gregory had left for him, but the extra one he himself had packed) and handed it to Anthea.

She accepted it gratefully. “Thank hhh-you,” Anthea said, her breath hitching.

Hhh-ha-Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh!

Given that her employer knew of her predicament, she no longer felt it necessary to stifle, instead sneezing her “normal,” slightly girly sounding quiet sneezes, despite feeling rather awkward about being sick as it was.

“God bless you again!” Mycroft studied her for a moment.

“Thadk you, sir.”

“Apologies,” Mycroft said.

“Excuse be, sir?”

“I seem to have given you my cold. My apologies.”

Anthea blew her nose quietly, hoping to be able to speak clearly once again.

44. weekend

Anthea sniffed. “No worries, sir. Are you feeling better?”

Mycroft nodded. “Yes, thank you. I was under orders to rest all weekend, as you already know.” He paused and rubbed a finger under his nose. “Doctor Watson even kindly took the time to look me over this morning and said that I, I, hhh-Mmmmpfch- excuse me. He said that my sinuses seemed a bit inflamed, but that I should make a full recovery.” hhh-Mmmmpfch!

“God bless you, sir.”

“Thank you,” Mycroft said sniffling quietly.

“Do you need anything, sir? We have time to stop off if you need to,” Anthea said as she checked the time.

Mycroft shook his head, and managed to look slightly embarrassed, if that were possible. “Gregory packed me a care package,” he said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

Anthea returned to reading whatever it was she read on her mobile, but there was still a trace of a smile on her face, when Mycroft looked up a moment later.

[Spoo]

Oh nooooooo! Poor Anthea. I guess 'potentially catching her employer's cold' was somewhere in her contract. Andandand, Greg being a good boyfriend and packing Myc a care package, GUH! Talk about being assaulted with warm fuzzies!

[cally]

Oh nooooooo! Poor Anthea. I guess 'potentially catching her employer's cold' was somewhere in her contract. Andandand, Greg being a good boyfriend and packing Myc a care package, GUH! Talk about being assaulted with warm fuzzies!

Logical progression showed that she would have to get it before John and Sherlock. It probably is in her contract.

Isn't Greg adorable? I want one.

[tma]

Awwww... just too cute, both the gift and the whole Mycoft/ Anthea exchange. Just adorable!

[cally]

Awwww... just too cute, both the gift and the whole Mycoft/ Anthea exchange. Just adorable!

Thank you. I thought there would have to be something cute going on, what with all the illness. <3

[matilda3948]

These are so amazingly good!! I always get super excited when I see a new update

[squealofapproval]

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

[cally]

These are so amazingly good!! I always get super excited when I see a new update

Thank you so much! I feel the same when I see an update from you!

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

I am glad you enjoyed!

[cally]

More drabbles? Why not!

45. job

Anthea wrinkled her nose in frustration. She was not one to complain, but she wasn’t sure if catching her employer’s cold was in her job description. Luckily for her Mycroft would be off to a meeting for an hour or so, giving her some time to pull herself together.

She sneezed as quietly as possible, her eyes never leaving her mobile.

Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh!

“God bless you,” Mycroft said.

Anthea cleared her throat. “Thadk you,” she said. She was starting to sound congested.

Mycroft frowned. He certainly felt bad, but sadly there was nothing he could do at this point other than make her day as easy as possible. “While I’m in this meeting, could you attend to something for me?”

“Of course, sir.” So much for that time to herself, she thought.

46. army

“I’ve just checked CCTV and Gregory looks like he will be in his office for the foreseeable future. I would like you to go and pick up coffee and pastry, you know where, and deliver them to him. Please give him this note.”

Anthea smiled. While technically these tasks weren’t really in the range of her employ they certainly ranked higher than fetching Mycroft’s dry cleaning or kidnapping army doctors off the street. She also liked Gregory; he was always nice to her and it was clear that he was a favourable influence on her employer.

“Of course, sir.”

Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose. He really wasn’t looking forward to this meeting filled with middle management bureaucrats with next to no intelligence. He had little patience for such people. He also had little patience for the building tickle in his nose. He sniffed, irritated, and rubbed the underside of his nose.

Mmmmpfch!

“God bless you, sir.”

“Thank you Anthea.” Mycroft looked out the window, mentally bracing himself for the inevitable stupidity.

They had arrived at Mycroft’s meeting location and he exited the car, briefcase and umbrella in tow.

47. pastry

They immediately took off for the fancy coffee and pastry shop that Lestrade favoured, but rarely treated himself to. Anthea had about 10 minutes to herself, which she used up mostly by sneezing, blowing her nose and taking cold medicine.

On arrival she went into the shop and picked out a cheese Danish and latte for Lestrade and an herbal tea for herself. Moments later, she was back in the town car and on her way to Scotland Yard.

Five minutes later and she was heading down the hall toward Detective Inspector Lestrade’s office. This wasn’t the first time she had been sent on such an errand and she slipped unnoticed into his office.

Gregory was sitting at his desk, piles of paperwork and folders surrounding him. He had obviously been ruffling his hair, as soft tufts of silver were sticking up in odd places.

48. coffee

It took a moment, but finally he realised he was being watched and raised his eyes from his desk. A slow grin appeared, when he realised who his visitor was. She smiled in return and crossed over to his desk with the coffee and pastry.

“Compliments of Mr. Holmes,” she said. “Oh, and this,” pulling the note from her bra.

Lestrade raised an eyebrow at that. “Hands full with the coffee and all,” she replied with a sniff.

“Cheers,” he said. “This is brilliant, thanks,” taking a long swallow of the rich coffee.

Lestrade opened the note. ‘Gregory, thank you for the “care package.” It is sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. XXX- MH.’

Lestrade smiled, blushing slightly.

“My pleasure,” she replied, rubbing the tip of her nose.

“Do you have a few,” Lestrade asked, gesturing to the chair across from his.

Anthea checked her mobile and nodded, sitting down in the chair.

Lestrade smiled and took another long swallow of coffee. “So, how’s he doing this morning, managing all right?”

Anthea nodded. “I’m sure he will tell you himself, but he stopped off at Baker Street this morning and apparently got a clean bill of health from Doctor Watson while he was there.”

“Baker Street? What the hell was he doing there?”

Anthea shrugged. “I’ve honestly no hhh-idea.” Hhh-Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh!

Anthea turned quickly to the side and sneezed rapidly. “Excuse me,” she said with a sniff.

“Bless you!” Lestrade handed her tissues from the box on his desk. “Not you, too?”

Anthea accepted the tissues gratefully, nodding, breath hitching at the same time. She covered her nose with them and sneezed again, her long hair falling forward.

Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh!

“Bless you again, Anthea!”

“Thadk you,” she said sniffling wetly, pushing her hair back in place.

“I’m so sorry,” Lestrade said.

“Sorry?” Anthea looked up at him in confusion.

“Well, I gave Mycroft this bloody cold,” he said with slight embarrassment.

She smiled ruefully at him. “I’m sure he would say it’s in my job description.”

They both laughed.

“Well, I best get back to the car. I’d hate to have him waiting if his meeting were to be over sooner than anticipated.” Anthea stood and smoothed her pencil skirt.

Lestrade smiled. “Thanks for the coffee. Make sure he takes his meds, eh? And feel better, ok?”

Anthea smiled in return. “Good afternoon, Detective Inspector,” she said and turned and headed for the door.

[Spoo]

Awwwww. Mycroft returned the favor! That's so adorable. I really liked the interaction between Anthea and Greg, and how he was concerned over her cold as well. So very sweet!

[cally]

Awwwww. Mycroft returned the favor! That's so adorable. I really liked the interaction between Anthea and Greg, and how he was concerned over her cold as well. So very sweet!

I'm such a dork for all the caring!Mystrade.

[ID2006]

Normally I'm not that into female sneezing, but this fits in so well, and I love a guilty caretaky Mycroft... and Lestrade. And all the God bless you's cause it seems so like them to say it all out.

[cally]

Normally I'm not that into female sneezing, but this fits in so well, and I love a guilty caretaky Mycroft... and Lestrade. And all the God bless you's cause it seems so like them to say it all out.

My own head canon there on the blessing and all. I'm glad you enjoyed!

[cally]

I've been writing tons today! Here's the first half.

49. weather

Anthea headed back to the car. She was grateful of the tissues though, having left all of her own personal things in the car. She swiped at her nose in annoyance and entered the waiting sedan.

Ten minutes later and she was promptly greeting Mycroft Holmes as he rejoined her after his meeting.

“Good afternoon, sir. How was the meeting?”

Before he could formulate a response, he fished his handkerchief out of his pocket and sneezed harshly into it.

Mmmmpfch! Mmmmpfchoo! Mmmmpfchoo!

“God bless you, sir!” Anthea was a bit alarmed by his uncharacteristic non-restraint.

Mycroft blew his nose. “Thank you, Anthea. I’ve been waiting an hour for that.”

“Sir?”

“The entire country does not need to know I’m a bit under the weather.”

“Yes, sir. Detective Inspector Lestrade passes along his thanks. He also said to remind you to take your medicide,” she said with a sly smile unaware that the congestion was starting to appear back in her voice.

50. water

Mycroft opened his briefcase and took out the pills Gregory had carefully packed for him. He swallowed them dry and as if on cue Anthea handed him a bottle of water.

“Thank you.”

Anthea was about to reply but was overcome with a fit of sneezes.

Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh!

She quickly reached for her bag and pulled out the handkerchief her employer had given her earlier.

“God bless you, Anthea!” Mycroft looked concerned. “Are you sure you are ok?”

Anthea quickly blew her nose, nodding her head. “Thadk you, sir.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re welcome. Should I have the driver stop at a chemist?”

Anthea cleared her throat. “I have medicine sir, thank you. It just hasn’t seemed to kick in yet,” she said with a sniff.

51. concern

“Very well.” Mycroft rubbed his temples feeling the congestion and tension there.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

"I can clear your schedule if you need me to.”

Mycroft smiled, touched at her concern despite her own condition. ‘Damn Gregory and your influence’, he thought. “Just a sinus headache,” he said with a slight sniff.

Anthea nodded and turned back to her mobile with one hand, and dabbed at her nose with a handkerchief with the other.

Mycroft frowned. He supposed this is what he gets for hiring loyal and stubborn employees. He would have considered this line of thought further, but his mobile vibrated in his pocket.

Thank you for the coffee. It was delicious. -GL

My pleasure, Gregory. –MH

How are you feeling? –GL

Tolerable, thank you. –MH

:-) -GL

Oh, must you with the emoticons? –MH

–GL

Mycroft tried not to laugh and sniffled slightly, triggering a sneeze.

Mmmmpfch!

“God bless you, sir,” Anthea said. She looked up, concerned.

“Thank you, Anthea.”

You’ve gone and caused me to sneeze, Gregory. Anthea looks concerned. -MH

God bless you, love. And how exactly did I cause you to sneeze?- GL

You made me laugh and it triggered a sneeze. –MH

I’m glad I can make you laugh. –GL

I am very glad of it too. –MH

Will you be home on time this evening? –GL

I certainly hope so. Anthea is unwell and I’d like to make sure she gets home to rest. –MH

I know. She didn’t sound great. I feel awful having given you both such a rotten cold. -GL

I assure you Gregory; neither of us holds you at fault. –MH

Mycroft, I’m off to a briefing now. See you later. XXX –GL

Good afternoon, Gregory. -MH

[cally]

More snuggly Mystrade, and finally, we've gotten to the John/Sherlock portion of the story.

52. knife

The rest of the day passed unremarkably, apart from poor Anthea sneezing constantly. Mycroft felt terrible for getting her ill; ‘damned sentiment,’ he thought. He even went so far as to drop her off at home first before heading to his own townhouse.

Mycroft was actually very glad to be home. While he had managed to carry on all day long, his head was aching something awful and he knew he was going to need something stronger than paracetemol.

When he got in, he divested himself of his raincoat and umbrella and headed upstairs to his ensuite. In the medicine cabinet there were some painkillers leftover from the last time Gregory had gotten too close for comfort to a gangsters knife. He popped two from the packet and downed them with a glass of water and retired to his study. Gregory would be home soon, he thought with a smile.

And Gregory was home, moments later. He came into the study and found Mycroft sitting quietly, as if he were waiting for something. Gregory didn’t have to wait long to find out what it he was waiting for.

Mycroft pitched forward, hands cupped around his nose.

Ha-hah-Hehmmmpftcchhhoo! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftisha!

“Jesus, Mycroft! God bless you! I thought you were feeling better?”

53. imminent

Mycroft didn’t move. Gregory studied him for a moment and then crossed the room, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket. “Here, love.”

Mycroft took the cloth and blew his nose carefully, the pressure causing his head to ache all the more. “Thank you Gregory, and apologies,” he said with a sniff. “I’ve had to sneeze for at least an hour. It was most unpleasant with this headache.”

“Have you taken anything,” Gregory asked, concerned.

“Yes, I took two of those pills left over from the knife incident.”

“It’s that bad?”

Mycroft nodded slightly, not wanting to move his aching head. His nose twitched and he knew another sneeze was imminent. He put the handkerchief in front of his nose, sat back a bit from Gregory and sneezed.

Hehmmmpftcchhhoo! Hehmmmpftish!

“God bless you again, love,” Gregory said with a smile.

“I’ll make you some tea, shall I?”

Mycroft smiled weakly. “That would be lovely, Gregory. Thank you.”

54. fine

Gregory returned moments later with tea. He sat down next to Mycroft, putting an arm around him. Mycroft cradled the tea and snuggled closer to Gregory. He drank his tea slowly, enjoying the warmth of it, and of his partner next to him. He was also starting to feel the effects of the medication; loose and relaxed.

He put the tea down on the coffee table, leaving the dregs behind. He settled himself comfortably with his head in Gregory’s lap. Gregory smiled. He began to softly card his fingers through Mycroft’s soft, fine hair. Mycroft let out a soft moan, and leaned into the touch. Just as he was settling, he pulled back, nose tickling madly.

Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftish!

He sat up, head swimming from the headache, the medicine and the rapid and powerful sneezes. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose.

“God bless you, love.” Gregory leaned over and placed a kiss on Mycroft’s forehead.

“Thank you,” Mycroft said quietly. “I will certainly be glad to see the end of this cold.” He rubbed his nose.

Gregory smiled. “I told you the sneezing was the last to go.”

Mycroft sniffed and snuggled back down. “Well, let’s hope I can manage an hour without it.”

Gregory returned to his ministrations. “Rest, love. Just rest. When you wake up, your headache will be gone,” he said quietly.

55. gown

Tuesday morning, Sherlock woke up and immediately sneezed.

Hngxtsh! Hngxtsh!

He could hear John sniffling in the sitting room. Fucking Mycroft, he thought.

Thank you SO much. –SH

Excuse me, Sherlock? –MH

You’ve spread your bloody cold to both John and I. –SH

Apologies. –MH

Piss off, Mycroft. –SH

Sherlock dragged himself out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown. He headed out into the sitting room and found John sitting in his chair with the paper and a cup of tea. There was also a steaming cup next to his own chair.

He crossed the room, flung himself into his chair, and sneezed violently.

Hngxtsh! Hngxtsh!

John looked up, eyebrows raised. “Bless you!”

Sherlock sniffled and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his dressing gown.

56. counter

John rolled his eyes and sniffed quietly, feeling Sherlock study him intensely.

“You’re ill too,” Sherlock said, his voice slightly lower than normal, slightly scratchy, but still the same deep tone that sounded so pleasing to John.

John sniffed, put the paper to the side and nodded.

“Bloody Mycroft,” John said.

Sherlock snickered and sneezed.

Hngxtsh! Hngxtsh!

“Bless you again.”

Sherlock sniffled wetly. He reached for his tea and took a mouthful, enjoying the warmth as it spread through his body.

Sherlock sniffled again.

John sighed. He stood up, fetched the box of tissues from the counter and brought them closer to both of them. He took one out and handed it to Sherlock.

“Here.”

“What for?”

John sighed; he was starting to lose his patience. “Your nose is running.”

“Boring,” Sherlock said.

“Sherlock,” John said with an edge to his voice.

“Fine,” Sherlock said. He snatched the tissue from John and dabbed at his nose, then shoved it into the pocket of his dressing gown.

57. paper

John sat down again and went back to reading the paper. He could feel Sherlock studying him, which was a bit unnerving, but not out of the ordinary.

He focused on the words on the page, and rubbed his nose absentmindedly. And then he sneezed.

Hi-etchhhhuh! Hi-etcssshhhhhuh!

John reached for the tissues and blew his nose. When he looked up, he found Sherlock studying him, cataloguing his every move. It was creepy.

“You’re staring,” John said.

“Hmmmmmm,” Sherlock replied.

“Normal people say bless you and inquire after one’s health, not stare creepily you know.”

“John, are you suggesting I’m not ‘normal,’” Sherlock questioned with a smirk and a slight sniffle.

58. sore

Before John had a chance to respond Sherlock continued. “You’re slightly congested and you’ve been sneezing for an hour or so. You’re throat is ticklish, but not sore; the tea has helped that immeasurably.”

Sherlock paused to sneeze, and then continued on as if he hadn’t been interrupted by such a nuisance reflex action.

Hngxtsh! Hngxtsh! Hngxtsh! Hngxtshi!

“Your temperature is normal, but you feel a bit chilled. You’re ready for another cup of tea and some toast.”

“You forgot to mention that I think you’re an annoying git,” John said with a ghost of a smile across his lips. “Oh, and bless you.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Sherlock,” John said with a hint of annoyance.

Sherlock sighed. “Thank you,” he said relenting.

“You’re welcome. Now, since you’ve accurately deduced how I’m feeling, can I assume that’s how you feel as well?” John looked concerned; Sherlock didn’t get ill often.

Sherlock looked up, and was about to argue that he felt fine, but instead the look on John’s face caused him to nod in agreement.

59. kettle

“All right, that settles it. Tea, toast, and cold medicine.” John stood up from the couch and headed into the kitchen. He flicked the kettle on, and put bread in the toaster, and came back into the sitting room.

Sherlock had picked the paper and was blithely flicking through it when John sneezed again.

Hi-etchhhhuh! Hi-etcssshhhhhuh! Hi-etchhhhuh!

Sherlock looked up at John. “Bless you,” he said quietly.

“Thanks,” John replied. “Knew that was coming. Didn’t want to sneeze near the toast.”

The kettle clicked off; John retrieved their cups and went back into the kitchen.

A few moments later he returned with tea and toast for the two of them. Sherlock put the paper down and sighed.

[Spoo]

Yaaaay! The Plague has finally arrived at 221B. Poor Sherlock. He can hardly stand his brother as it is, but having his brother's COLD? Oh man. I can only imagine how upsetting that is. And to think, this all came from Greg (who probably caught it from someone in his division ).

[squealofapproval]

Omg both of them. I'm laughing like a schoolgirl here!

[cally]

Yaaaay! The Plague has finally arrived at 221B. Poor Sherlock. He can hardly stand his brother as it is, but having his brother's COLD? Oh man. I can only imagine how upsetting that is. And to think, this all came from Greg (who probably caught it from someone in his division ).

Sherlock is most distressed about this.

Omg both of them. I'm laughing like a schoolgirl here!

I do try.

[ID2006]

So in love with this. Sherlock and John are just hilarious. I love Sherlock and his "boring", I can hear it so well in my head. And John's tone that he gets with Sherlock.

[cally]

So in love with this. Sherlock and John are just hilarious. I love Sherlock and his "boring", I can hear it so well in my head. And John's tone that he gets with Sherlock.

It's going to be a very long week. John may have to hide his gun.

[cally]

60. armrest

The two ate their toast in silence. Well, if you could call Sherlock’s irritated sniffling silence. When John was done, he went and fetched the cold medicine, and handed 2 pills to Sherlock. John picked up his tea, the tissues, and said, “I’m going to watch telly.”

He walked over and settled himself, drinking his tea. He flicked channels, finally setting on reruns of Top Gear. It was mindless enough to watch, and he didn’t really need to think about what was going on. He rubbed his nose absently, trying to keep the tickle that was building from developing any further.

Hi-etchhhhuh! Hi-etcssshhhhhuh! Hi-etcssshhhhhuh!

John sneezed in annoyance. He reached for the tissues and blew his nose. He then looked up to see Sherlock studying him from across the flat. He quickly ducked his head down into the tissues again.

Hi-etcssshhhhhuh!

“Bless,” Sherlock said quietly. He adjusted the position he was sitting, so that his back was up against the armrest of his chair, and his long legs flung over the other arm. He had his hands up, fingertips pointing at his long nose. His thinking pose, John thought. He wondered what Sherlock was thinking about.

“Thadks,” John replied, noticing how congested he sounded, but Sherlock was already “gone.”

John shrugged and settled back. Five minutes later, he was snoring quietly.

61. lunch

Sherlock came back into himself, sneezing.

Hngxtsh! Hngxtshi!

He wondered how long he had been thinking- the sun was higher in the sky. He could tell be the shadows on the walls. He looked over across the flat; John was snoring softly.

He sniffled wetly and stood up, joints cracking back into place. He strode off in the direction of his bedroom, directing another sneeze into his elbow.

Hngxtsh!

Moments later he came out, fully dressed. He checked his watch; it was nearly noon. John would be hungry when he woke up, he surmised. He grabbed his coat and headed downstairs.

Fifteen minutes later, Sherlock retuned with sandwiches, crisps, and tea. John was sitting up on the couch, rubbing his eyes. Sherlock hung up his coat and came over with their lunch to where John was sitting.

“I bought lunch,” Sherlock said.

“I cad see dat,” John said sleepily. He rubbed a hand across his face and reached for the tea. He took a long swallow and smiled. Sherlock being nice? Was the congestion messing with his brain? Was he still asleep, perhaps dreaming?

“Thadk you Sherlock.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a sniff.

Sherlock rubbed his nose and sniffled again. He was starting to get irritated, and it had only been a few hours of feeling this way. This was ridiculous, he thought as he sneezed again, the force bending him over, his curls falling into his face.

Hngxtsh! Hngxtshi! Hngxtshi! There was a brief pause, and then another powerful sneeze. Hngxtshoo!

“Whoa, Sherlock! Bless you!” John put a supportive hand on Sherlock’s shoulder and steadied him. He reached for the tissues and handed them to Sherlock. “Here. Blow your nose. It’ll help.”

Sherlock glared, but did as he was told.

[ID2006]

Yay, I probably check this for updates way to much, but I do love your writing so.

[cally]

Yay, I probably check this for updates way to much, but I do love your writing so.

Thank you! I truly appreciate all the comments and feedback and readers.

62. footsteps

John had finished his sandwich and crisps and Sherlock was still picking at his, when they heard footsteps coming up to 221B. Sherlock had left the door ajar somehow, and Anthea walked in, laden down with bags.

John took one look at her and gasped. She looked terrible. She had dark circles under her eyes; her nose was pink, chapped, and twitching. She was sniffling repeatedly, with her hands being full she couldn’t do anything about the fact that it was starting to drip.

John jumped up and took the bags from her. He gestured her to the chair that clients normally sat in. She sniffed and pushed her hair from her face. “Cobliments of Mr. Holmes,” she said.

“You look awful,” John said at the same time Sherlock said, “You sound disgusting.”

John and Sherlock shared a look; this was what they had to look forward to?

Anthea went on to speak, but before she could say anything Sherlock was shoving a handkerchief in her face. “Here,” he said.

Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh!

She started to speak again, brow furrowing, but failed.

Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh!

“Bless you!” John said.

Anthea blew her nose, wincing at how awful it sounded.

63. bells

“Thadk you. Mr. Holmes asked me to stob by with sobe things for you. There’s soup ad tissues ad medicide. He also passes along his apologizes for passing od his cold.”

Sherlock sniggered and rolled his eyes.

“It’s dot really his fault, Sherlock,” she said.

“Well, he’s the one who came over here sneezing all over everything,” he said with a sniff.

“It’s really Gregory’s fault.”

“Who the hell is Gregory?” Sherlock nearly shouted.

John laughed and laughed, and then he sneezed.

Hi-etcssshhhhhuh!

“God bless you,” Anthea said.

John sniffled and thanked her.

Sherlock stared at John. “Who the hell is Gregory?”

John laughed again. “Does the name Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade ring any bells, Sherlock?”

64. bag

“Lestrade? How is this his . . . .” Sherlock’s voice trailed off and he stopped mid sentence.

“Oh,” he said.

Anthea made a sound that was meant to be a laugh, but it was hard to tell. John had a feeling that Mycroft sent her on this errand for more than just bringing them cold medicine.

“Sherlock? Can you go get my medical bag?”

“What for?”

“Just do it, Sherlock.”

Anthea sniffled. John studied her. He pressed his fingers gently into her forehead, the same way he had done with Mycroft the other day. Anthea visibly flinched and gasped. John did the same right under her eyes, with the same result.

She then quickly turned away from him and sneezed.

Huh’itshuh! Huh’itshuh!

“Bless you,” John said.

“Thadk you.”

Sherlock came back in with John’s medical bag. John took out a thermometer and gave it to Anthea. “I’m sure you know what to do with this,” he said. While her temperature was being taken, he checked her ears and lymph nodes.

Not surprisingly, her temperature was elevated. “I’d tell you to go home to bed with a cuppa, but I’m sure that’s not going to happen,” John told her. “You have a sinus infection. I can write you a prescription for antibiotics. Once the cold clears up, you should be feeling much better,” he said.

Anthea sniffed. “Thadk you, Doctor Watson. I had figured as much. There’s plenty of medicide for both of you. Mr. Holmes wanted me to mention that the headaches can be severe, so there’s prescription painkillers in there as well.”

John nodded, thinking, a flash of worry across his face. Sherlock, who at that moment decided to sneeze rather dramatically, brought him out of his reverie.

Hngxtshoooo!

“Bless you,” John said at the same time Anthea said “God bless you.”

Sherlock looked at both of them, blinked, and quietly said “thank you.”

There was a puzzled look on Sherlock’s face for the blink of an eye, but then he sniffled and it was gone. John wondered if he imagined it.

65. languid

Anthea looked at the time on her mobile. Where the hell had that come from, John thought.

“Thadk you Doctor Watson,” she said waving the prescription. “I hope you two are feeling better soon,” she said, heading for the door.

John smiled. “No late nights, and try to get as much rest and fluids as you can, yeah?” He walked her to the door, closing it behind her.

Hi-etcssshhhhhuh! John sneezed and rubbed his nose.

With a sigh, he turned to find Sherlock sorting out the bags that Anthea had brought in. John took the soup into the kitchen and rejoined Sherlock in the sitting room. There was plenty of cold medicine, Sudafed, pain relievers, and tissues.

John opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. “John?” Sherlock’s voice was far deeper now, and the sound made him feel very unnerved for some reason; a thought he would have to deal with when he wasn’t full of cold.

“You have something you want to ask me.” Sherlock was sure of himself, wasn’t he?

John cleared his throat. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to have those painkillers here?”

Sherlock crossed the room and flung himself onto the couch, pulling his dressing gown tight around him. John followed him and sat down next to him, waiting.

“Codeine was never my drug of choice in the worst of times. It makes me languid and slow and drowsy. Do you think in any situation I would want that?”

John nodded and let out a sigh and released tension he didn’t know he was holding.

“Tea?” he asked.

Sherlock nodded as he reached for the tissues.

Hngxtshoooo! Hngxtshoooo!

“Bless you,” John said. He noticed that Sherlock was sneezing less restrained and more desperate, as if his normal ‘proper’ façade was cracking, as he started to feel worse.

“Stob staring,” Sherlock said.

John had to laugh at that. He smiled and got up to put the kettle on.

[matilda3948]

Aww...John taking a look at Anthea even though he's sick too.

Sherlock nodded as he reached for the tissues.

Hngxtshoooo! Hngxtshoooo!

“Bless you,” John said. He noticed that Sherlock was sneezing less restrained and more desperate, as if his normal ‘proper’ façade was cracking, as he started to feel worse.

Sigh. Poor sick, sneezy Sherlock.