Watson was up to her elbows in dirty, sudsy, steamy water. Ms. Hudson had taken two weeks vacation and the brownstone's kitchen was on its way to becoming a health hazard. Not a clean cup, dish, bowl or utensil was to be found. She had told Sherlock to report to the kitchen at 10:00 a.m. to assist her with the clean up. They were partners in everything she had told him. It was 10:25, when Holmes finally bounced into the kitchen.
"You're late," she said and pointed him to a dish towel. Holmes took it without question and started drying. She looked at him surprised. Watson had expected arguments, whining, and puppy dog looks.
"I broke the Queegie case," he said with a self satisfied smirk. Watson looked at him and waited for the report.
"She lied to us. That sweet old lady, the great auntie of a NYPD Captain lied to us. I should have picked up on it sooner. Very sloppy on my part. But I was distracted by your breast, and the frosting..." Sherlock punctuated his remark by leaning in closer to Watson and taking an exaggerated look at her torso.
"Hey!" She bumped him away with her elbow, "don't blame me and my eating habits for your lapses." He looked at Watson for direction as to where to store the small vase he had just dried. They really had used every last vessel in the building. She pointed him toward the far cabinet.
"Actually I think Great Aunt Rose is probably an expert liar, possibly a sociopath, and the fact that she has made into her 90s without being caught speaks to her skills." Sherlock finished drying a cup and leaned over in front of Watson to put it away.
She redirected him back to his report. "So what about the dog? Did you find him?"
"Yes and no." Sherlock slowed the drying process so he could explain. "Queegie is short for Queequeg. Why did she name him Queequeg, you ask? " Sherlock waited a beat. Watson stared at him blankly. "Ehr, well, I asked her. She stated she 'found' him in front of a Starbucks." Again, Sherlock waited for Watson's reaction. None came other than the clanking of dishes. She really hated doing dishes. He continued, "I assume you are familiar with Moby Dick, Watson?"
"Yes, I went to high school, Ahab, white whale, Ishmael, Starbuck, Queequeg... What does this have to do with the missing dog? " She was getting weary.
"Great Aunt Rose found the dog outside a Starbucks about two years ago and more or less commandeered the pup. She never looked for the owner, nor did she place an ad or posters saying she had found the dog. Turns out the dog had been microchipped. And when he ran off the other day, Queegie was picked up my a more responsible person who had the dog checked, found the chip and reunited Frodo, a.k.a. Queequeg, with his original owner, a certain Mr. Bruckman, who had dashed in for a cup to go when Auntie Rose dognapped his pup."
"Yikes!" Watson paused and looked at Sherlock. "Are you going to tell Gregson?"
"No. I've decided to let this slide. Tell them both that I couldn't find the dog. Hopefully Great Aunt Rose has learned her lesson and won't be trolling coffee houses looking for her next canine victim." Sherlock threw his towel down on the counter.
Watson stared at him, "What are you doing? There are stacks more to wash and dry."
"We have enough clean cutlery, cups and a plate or two now to last us a couple of days. We don't need to continue, do we?" He looked at her, now using, his most persuasive pleading look.
She really, really hated to do dishes. "We'll, there is some truth there, we don't really need to continue..."
"Maybe we can go upstairs and make your bed?" He nodded his head in hopes she would agree.
"But I made my bed this morning," she said slowly as she dried her hands.
"We'll then, perhaps we can mess it up and then remake it, hmm?" Sherlock stared at her.
She stared back, considered what he had said for a beat or two, took a small breath and then excitedly said, "Okay." She smiled, turned and quickly headed out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.
Sherlock stood there for a second in slight disbelief that she had accepted and then quickly followed her out and up the stairs.