Chapter Text
"John, did you by chance inform Lestraude where we were going?"
"Yes, and he said not to."
"And you didn't tell me this?"
"Would you have listened?"
"..."
"My point exactly."
"Surely Lestraude knows that I wouldn't have listened."
"Probably, I hope they come looking for us eventually."
"So do I, I think I know who the killer is."
"Oh? Care to share?"
"It was the son."
"Please tell me its not the son whose house we're currently locked in the closet of."
"..."
"Sherlock!"
"Don't shout, I'm right here."
"You idiot! Couldn't you have told me before we came here?"
"I only realized it after we got locked in here."
"Oh?"
"Yes, the shoes I noticed under the bed had a brownish mud on them, none of his other shoes do from what I could tell before the door shut on us."
"I see, so basically we're stuck in an axe-murder's closet with no chance of rescue until morning."
"Precisely."
"It's times like these that I hate these kinds of things."
"..."
"Sherlock?"
"Do you hate me because I get you into dangerous situations?"
"No Sherlock, you're my friend as crazy as you are, and I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Good because I don't intend to change."
"..."
"..."
"John, did you take the kettle off before we left?"
"No."
"..."
"..."
"Have you ever heard of the Quantum Butterfly?"
"What nonsense are you talking about now John?"
"It's an old folk story that when a yellow tailed butterfly with blue eyes on its wings, supposedly as it fluttered past it could cause whole hurricanes."
"That's utterly ridiculous."
"It's a fable Sherlock."
"It's still ridiculous."
"Whatever."
"..."
"..."
"This is the worst."
"No it's not John, that time we were stuck in that broom cupboard was bad."
"True... What would truly would be the worst would be being stuck in a closet with Anderson."
"..."
"..."
The loud bang of a door hitting a wall somewhere in the house causes both of men to jump in the small space.
-what was that?-
-how should I know John? Now be quiet-
They can hear footsteps pattering around the house, a sudden burst of music and the chink of glasses being pulled out of the cabinets. Both men tense as a second set of footsteps enter the bedroom where their little hiding spot is located.
-should we do something Sherlock?-
-shh, not yet.-
The footsteps retreat back into the living area where they can hear a female giggling.
-now?-
-no-
John grips the gun tucked into the back of his pants anxiously as they listened to the giggling come closer. A sudden knocking on the door in front of John startles him then he realizes it's Sherlock drawing attention to their presence by knocking on the closet door.
"Honey, what's that sound?"
"I'm not sure."
"Can you please open the closet door? It's a bit cramped in here and frankly I'd like to get out of here."
"Oh my god! There's someone in the closet!"
"We really would appreciate you letting us out."
The door jerks open and a large, well muscled man stares at the men standing in his closet.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson, our apologies for intruding in such an awkward manner but you see we were investigating a murder and it unfortunately led us here."
"A murder? Honey what's going on?"
"It's nothing sweety."
"Oh of course, the fact that you murdered your father in cold blood with an axe yesterday evening at five is nothing at all."
"You little-"
John tackled the man suddenly and the audible whoosh of breath being knocked out of the killer was followed by a half yelp as John landed on his ribs.
"Stay put or else."
"Excellent tackle John."
"Thanks, you wanna let Lestraude know we got our man Sherlock?"
"Madam, might I impose as to use your cell phone? I'm afraid that mine is dead."
"Uh..."
"Thank you."
"..."
"..."
*a few hours later at NSY*
"What do you two mean you got 'accidently locked into Tommy Greebs closet' whose home I expressly told you not to enter?"
"Well Sherlock thought he saw something and when he went to look I sorta fell over a stool and next thing we knew we were locked in the closet."
"I can't let you two out of my sight without something going wrong, do you know how much paperwork this is going to cause me? Not to mention the headache I'm going to have from trying to convince the head not to give me the boot?"
"Don't worry inspector, I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Gee thanks Sherlock, now get out of my office, no cases for you two for the next week."
"WHAT?" Simultaneously from both John and Sherlock.
"Lestraude do you know what he's like when he doesn't have a case?"
"No cases? I can't live without something to do!"
"The flat won't survive, I might not survive Lestraude?"
"What am I supposed to do all week? Laze around and watch rubbish telly?"
"Out."
"But Lestraude,"
"No, both of you, out."
With a sigh of defeat both men left, John already thinking about just how he could get out of the flat, possibly the country, for the week while Sherlock pouted pathetically.