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The door swung open with a furious boom as it hit the wall. Herlock Sholmes stepped into his suite at 221B, drenched in blood, his iconic cap and jacket missing on his person.
Iris Wilson turned away from her typewriter to look at the sorry state of her flatmate.
"Well that was tedious…" He grumbled. His fingers and eyes were uncharacteristically fidgeting, that can only mean one thing.
"Hurley you didn't go on the tube looking like that?"
"No cabs would take me, so on top of waiting for a multiple cabs I had to wait agonisingly for a ticket and agonisingly for the blasted train to come!" Sholmes walked into the flat, carelessly placing the trident down as he tried to enter the bathroom.
--
The bath was refreshing, but it couldn't wash away the racing need for stimulation. Especially after the prospect of a thrilling case was stripped away from him, leaving only a vacant need for a fix.
The man stomped across the room twirling the harpoon around.
His trusty violin was off for repairs today, that would have been easy fix as he awaits the next case.
No, he needs one now! Still agitated.
"Is there anything?" He said looking towards his trusty biographer.
Iris has bitten her lip flicking through newspaper after newspaper. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" He whizzed his face around, shocked.
"Sorry Hurley, nothing of importance here." She shrugged.
Herlock gritted his teeth and slammed the harpoon down on the carpet screaming as if he was in agony.
"Iris… I need some." He said softly.
"Hurley…"
"I need you to get me some!" He growled loudly.
"No," Iris shook her head.
"Nay, I demand you from the highest order that you get me some!" He exclaimed, pointing his finger upwards.
He let go of his harpoon trying to scamper around the four walls of 221B, searching around.
"Hurley you promised!" She sat up from her sofa and stomped her foot.
"Iris you don't understand! You know how I am! I have been stuck traveling here after a severely less than stimulating adventure for who knows how long!" He threw a pile of papers in the air which danced like snow as they fell down.
"If idle have are the devil's toys then an idle mind, dangerously one such as mine, is the devil's playhouse!"
"The answer is no! No one in a ten mile radius is going to sell you some anyway."
"What?" He stopped as if he was turning into an ice statue, slowly facing iris. "I'm their best customer anyway whose decision is it to not sell my any!"
Iris grunted, gesturing to the hyperactive man waving his arms in front of her the whole time.
"Oh…" his neck went limp as the shadow of his hair obscured his eyes from view.
Then suddenly he snapped himself straight. "Who did you wire?"
"Excuse me?"
"You wired someone. Who, pray tell, are you bringing over?" He stepped forward looking her in the eye.
"Ginny…" She mumbled.
"Ah yes, the good inspector! She might help me find my secret supply." He continued to look through every hole in the wall.
"You can't do this Hurley!" Herlock was typically a very jovial man, he was like a very eccentric uncle. He promised to stop indulging in that treat ever since they started living together.
She knew why Herlock loved working on cases, the third was just helping the ordinary folk of London. A head and shoulders on top of that is the ability to slay the concept of rent and the entire thrill of it.
A steady dose of stimulation helps keep the man happy and kind, he slips, he skates slips but he finds a way to pull himself up.
She loved living with Herlock.
Now she's looking at him lose his composure, trying to give up his abstinence.
The cost of having such a great mind.
"You're doing so well, you can't give up!"
"Iris, please! I'm desperate. I'm getting delirious." He looked at her with puppy dog eyes. "I mean, when the deuce was that smiley face on the wall."
"Hurley, YOU drew it. Before you went to the country to harpoon a dead pig."
"Ah, perhaps I did." He thrust his sounders forward with a scowl. "See? I'm delirious! I'm forgetting things, I can't forget things!"
Iris sighed heavily.
"Oh is that the door opening?" Sholmes lit up hearing the faint sound of the front door creaking.
"Must be Ginny!"
"Miss Lestrade!" He yelled as he threw himself towards the fireplace searching for the trinkets on the mantelpiece.
The Inspector stormed in, panting on her way upstairs, her little dog in tow.
"Aight, wot's this 'bout then?" She looked onward to Sholmes shuffling around the numerous trinkets on the mantlepiece.
"Ah Miss Lestrade, what a pleasant surprise!" He beamed at her. "Would you like some tea?"
"Okay wot ya buttering me up for?" She wasn't fooled by his affability.
She glanced at Iris who was shaking her head.
"My secret supply Gina! I demand my secret supply!" He mumbled.
"I ain't got nuthin' ta do wiv it y'know?" Gina huffed, throwing her arms to the ground. "Wot secret supply anything?"
"Dearest Toby!" He knelt down to the fluffy little pup. "Would it be proper for you to find a stash of cocainne for me? The big meanie Miss Iris Wilson isn't allowing me anyway."
"Okay, no no!" She yanked her companion away from the delirious detective.
"Y'aint using th' chief inspector fer ya dirty work Sholmes." She cuddled the oblivious puppy in her arms. "Sides yer not allowed any."
A muffled grunt escaped from Sholmes' lips as he waltzed to his desk, glancing out the window.
"You need some tea, Hurley and you know it!" Sholmes picked up the harpoon, the pigs blood still not washed off.
"I need something stronger than tea, if it could rid me of this agitation…" The good Inspector Lestrade caught his eye, with a wry smile he flipped the harpoon, pointing it directly at her as if he was a rifleman performing a training drill.
Sherlock found the solution to his woes.
Now he doesn't have to wait for the opportunity to perform.
“Old habits die hard I see." Gina blinked at him with a blank expression on his face.
"Ever since you became an inspector at the Yard, your clothing has been remarkably clean." He placed the trident down as he began circling her. "There's a red stain on your trousers, curios what that could be, and your jacket; why is your tight sleeve dirty?"
"Okay now look 'ere-"
"You have a fiver pound note sticking out of your breast pocket inspector, do try to hide it better." He smirked, looking out the window satisfied.
"So who was it?"
Gina scowled, Iris shook her head.
"Oh Hurley, your deduction's all wrong." Iris said with a confident flick of her finger.
"Then pray tell, what-"
"That's not a bloodstain on her thigh, Hurley." She began.
"'E thought it was a wot now!?"
"That's wine, vintage wine by our dear prosecutor friend." She proceeded to snap her fingers. "The five pound was obviously extra pay for a hard day's work."
Herlock stared dumbfounded. "but… but what about-?"
"Went inta a skip I did, got th' thingy that got me this 'ere fiver."
Herlock flailed his arms uncontrollably as he landed flat on the floor.
In a flash of light the action was reversed and he stood there, his eyes obscured by the angle of his hair.
"Oh I envy you… I envy the both of you." He grumbled.
Gina sat her faithful companion down on the floor, stroking him. "You envy us?"
"Your mind, Inspector, it's placid, barely used. There isn't a need for you to consistently busy yourself to keep it at bay."
"Uuh… thanks?" That definitely did not feel like a compliment to her.
"And you my dear Iris. Whatever could I do without you? You're my better half. You're me without all of my worst impulses." He could hug her at any moment. "You have emulated my deduction skills and cultivated a mind such as mine but you are but a child so you constantly find ways to keep yourself busy, you have accomplished more than any adult could have in a quarter of that time! You're the real genius."
"Hurley…" Iris muttered. "You don't have to feel inferior on my behalf. You just need a case is all."
"'Aven't you lot BEEN looking for a case all day? And didn't you just solve one?"
"Well that was this morning and it was 80% travelling and 20% harpooning a dead pig!" He clutched his fists together.
"Why didja need to 'arpoon a dead pig!?"
"I do not remember and I do not care enough to recover it from my neurological archives." He angrily flicked his hair and pointed. "It has caused me so much strife I'm actually glad! Freed from that dreadful memory! Consider it permanently deleted!"
Pig harpooning aside, Gina did not need the great detective to be in this pisdy state at the moment, so she haphazardly fumbled around a bunch of random letters on Iris' desk.
Only one of them looked like a request.
"Wots this then?" She asked, handing her the letter to read.
"Oh no, not this. It's a bit too silly for Hurley."
"I'd take nonsense as long as it didn't involve going to the countryside for a long period of travel just to harpoon a dead pig." Herlock grunted.
"Dear Mr Herlock Sholmes, I can't find Bluebell anywhere please please please can you help?" Iris recited from the letter.
"Bluebell."
"A rabbit, my dear inspector." Sholmes piped in.
Gina was surprised at Iris' nod in agreement. She genuinely didn't except him to be right in the first time.
"That wasn't all, before Bluebell disappeared he turned luminous. 'Like a fairy' according to dear Christie." Iris continued.
"Okay yeah, that does sound bit naff." Gina concluded.
"I mean, I don't think Hurley would find any interest in this one. The only thing remotely interesting is that the hutch was closed shut with no sign of forced entry." Iris turned her head towards her flatmate assuming he'd be in a laughing fit but to her surprise…
Sholmes was standing straight up, his pipe in his mouth.
"My word," He took it out of his mouth. "This is just what I need."
"Wait this isn't silly?"
"What are you talking about? First is absolutely brilliant!" Sholmes twirled his hands and shifted his head. "Young Christie has discovered a groundbreaking event!"
"You can't be serious?" Gina shook her head.
"I'm sorry but he seems extremely serious." Iris just shrugged.
"My dear Gina, contact the yard. Tell them we're looking for an escaped rabbit." He pushed his finger up in the air, triumphant for no reason.
"... why would I?"
"It's either that or hide or seek."
Gina scurried over to the next room. "Yeah, I'll wire the blokes at the Yard real quick."
Iris turned her attention back to her flatmate who is suddenly now dressed in his iconic outdoor attire.
"The dearest inspector will inevitably catch up, come now my dear Iris! The game is afoot!"