In which John is suspicious of Sherlock’s behavior, and general fluff ensues.
John Watson had just settled down on the park bench with his lunch and newspaper when his phone buzzed from somewhere within the depths of his pocket. It was a sound not unlike that of a disgruntled hornet, and about as welcome. He sighed because, well, he already knew what it was going to say, didn’t he, and he supposed it had been foolish to expect to have a quiet, uninterrupted afternoon.
By the time he had folded up his newspaper and set it down beside him another text had come in. Pulling out his mobile, he read:
Please come at once. -SH
Emergency. -SH
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