How Watson Learned the Trick - Chapter 3.

Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade knocked at the door of 221 Baker St at a civilised 10:30am on Saturday morning, and Mrs Hudson opened the door.

"Good morning, Inspector! Go right on up, the boys are awake."

"Good morning, Mrs Hudson, thank you. Not a late night for them last night, then?" he asked, very casually.

"Well…" she gave him a slight wink, "they came home early, but I don't think they went straight to bed. Not straight to sleep, anyway."

"There was no… er… fighting or anything, last night?" Greg hated to even think about it, but he had tipped Sherlock off about John's activities - he would have looked carefully when John got home and seen if there was anything untoward to be found. Besides, if there was any disagreement going on neither of them were the kind to keep it down for the sake of the neighbours.

Mrs Hudson looked surprised, "No dear, nothing like that since the last time Sherlock's experiment boiled over on the stove. They bicker and, well, you know how they carry on, but not last night. Last night I was quite jealous of… well, anyway, thin walls, you know."

Greg gave her a genuinely warm smile as he brushed past on his way upstairs. "Glad to hear it. Well, not literally, but you know what I mean. Those two were made for each other."

Mrs Hudson sniffed, "Shame neither of them can cook, though. If you're expecting breakfast don't be disappointed if you are only offered jam on toast."

"More than adequate. I'm really just here for Sherlock to have a look at this case file."

Mrs Hudson gave a wave and disappeared into 221A, while Greg took the stairs up to 221B. He knocked briefly, then pushed open the door. John was sitting at the (unusually clear) kitchen table with the paper open and a plate of toast and scrambled eggs in front of him.

Just then, Sherlock turned around with another plate of eggs and toast. "Ah, Lestrade. In perfect time. I see you have a case file for me?" Greg was glad to see that although Sherlock was wearing his dressing gown, he was fully dressed in a shirt and trousers underneath.

"Yes, but also I just wanted to see that you both were… all right, after last night."

"We-ell," drawled Sherlock, "John was a bit rattled after your interruption to his interrogation scene, so he didn't perform as well as usual, but I'm not going to hold it against him. He did very well under the circumstances." Sherlock turned back to the stove with a pronounced limp.

Greg blushed. He really did not need to know the details.

Sherlock darted a quick glance at him as he returned to the table with his own mug of tea. "I didn't mean that. I meant that I've been teaching John to deduce. He's getting quite good at it."

"It's quite a simple trick," interrupted John. "In a way, I'm surprised the public continues to be so interested in it. The method is really very easily acquired. I could probably give you a lesson if you like."

"By all means," said Greg with a wave. "Go ahead, deduce for me."

John turned to Sherlock, saying, "I'll deduce you, so Greg can see what I'm seeing. Look, Greg, and you'll see exactly what I'm pointing out. You'll also see that we didn't set this up ahead of time - I'm deducing cold, just like Sherlock does."

John stared at Sherlock a moment with narrowed eyes. "He was in a rush this morning, as he forgot that you were coming until the last moment. See how he's forgotten to shave? Yet when have you ever seen him at NSY less than perfectly clean-shaven?"

"That's true," murmured Greg. "Go on."

"Also, he has a private client named 'Barlow' but he is stuck with the case."

"How can you know that?" Greg asked.

"I saw the name on the outside of the envelope, and when Sherlock saw the letter this morning he groaned as he shoved it into his dressing gown pocket."

"Ah, yes, I can see it poking out - you're right! Gosh, you really have learned his trick! What else?"

"I'm sorry to say that Sherlock has also taken to playing the stock market, without much success. Alas, the international share market is too unpredictable to be deduced easily."

Sherlock's eyes widened slightly at this, but Greg noticed. "Didn't know John was following your every move, eh Sherlock? Well, I'm convinced. Very impressive show, John! Maybe I'll just leave this case file with you, and you can deduce it for me and drop it back on Monday. Thanks for breakfast, boys, I'd better be going. Mycroft had to go into the office this morning, but I'm hoping he'll be home in time for lunch." Greg pushed back his chair, leaving the case file on the table.

"Ah yes, my brother. Tell him I said…" Sherlock broke off and turned back to the kitchen to fill the kettle.

After a moment, Greg prompted, "Tell him you said what?"

"Nothing."

Greg rolled his eyes at Sherlock's back, then slapped John on the shoulder as he moved towards the door. "Don't get up, I'll see myself out." He headed out the door and down the stairs, whistling.

There was a short silence at the breakfast table in 221B. Sherlock had a slight smirk on his face as he returned to the table and sipped his tea in silence. John, knowing that smirk all too well, sighed deeply. "All right then, I can see you're dying to tell me. How did I do?"

"John, it is a very simple trick, and I'm sure you will get it one day." Sherlock took another sip of his tea before continuing, "However, today is not that day."

Sherlock stood up and handed over his letter. "It's from Dr. Barlow, my dentist. I groaned because I have an appointment with him today. On the way back, I plan to get my hair cut and have a proper shave in the barber's chair, which is why I didn't shave this morning."

"Oh God, but what about the stock market? I was right about that, though, wasn't I? I saw you glance at the financial page in the paper and you muttered 'damn' under your breath, which can only mean that some of your shares have lost money."

Sherlock raised one eyebrow. "Except for the fact that that opposite the financial pages are the sports pages. I was looking to see how Surrey was doing against Kent, but they lost, worse luck, and now are out of the finals."

John was silent for a moment before he finally said, "Thanks for not ridiculing me in front of Greg."

Sherlock leaned across the table to kiss John before saying in a low voice, "It is a very simple trick, and I have no doubt you will soon acquire it. All you need is more practice. How about we go on another date tonight? And… um, John?" Sherlock stared into his mug for a moment. "Would you like to go out with Violet again? Since, you know, last night was ruined by Greg's interruption. Because I totally understand, and I want to give the breast forms another run anyway…"

"Nah, not tonight." John shrugged and had another bite of his toast. "Maybe some other time, but I've had enough of her for now. Bloody cow. Threw a glass of water in my face, you know?" he winked at Sherlock. "How about you surprise me? That's what you do best." John paused reflectively. "You know, you don't need to be anxious about women, or other men, or anyone else at all. You have an amazing…" he let his eyes drift suggestively down the length of Sherlock's body, "body part that I love and that no-one else of either, of any gender can compete with."

"Oh?" Sherlock raised one eyebrow inquisitively, "And what would that be?"

"Your amazing, incredible, brilliant brain. I love it, and you, and the way you surprise me every day."

Sherlock looked up from his tea, finally, with the shy half-smile that John loved so much. "I've got an idea, you know. How about we don't wait until tonight, but just go back to bed right now?"

"Good idea. Not so surprising though. You'll have to work harder than that."

"Don't worry John, I plan to work you over very well."

John licked his lips, "Oh God, yes."

THE END