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[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom

Open The Damn Door!

Sherlock has never been one for sci-fi movies or tv-shows. This comes as no surprise to anyone who knows the man of course. Until his dying day, I am sure he will claim his abhorrence for Doctor Who and the two Star Wars movies he’s watched with me. 

The other day, I had an epiphany of sorts. I couldn’t see Sherlock, but I knew that he was lying on the sofa, fully retreated to his Mind Palace. I know this because of numerous tells, the most evident one at that point, was that he totally ignored my plea for help. I had forgotten my keys when I went out shopping, Mrs. Hudson was on a cruise with Mrs. Turner and the married ones, so there was only Sherlock I had to trust to lock me in. Alas…

When I went out, Sherlock was totally absorbed in an experiment, which consisted of different kinds of gravel and mud. Nothing spectacular at all, almost “normal”. I wondered when I had started to think about having mud samples and all kinds of gravel lying around the kitchen as normal. Probably the day I moved in with the madman.

Anyway, I was banging at the black door to no avail, and that’s how I knew Sherlock was galaxies away. Not literally, mind you, but out of reach. He always came to my rescue the few times I left my keys behind. If he’d been fully alert, he would’ve noticed them, and avoided going to the shower, so he could hear me when I was back.

What I also could deduce from this was that he had not retreated to the bedroom, because that was where my keys were. On the nightstand. Out of reach, just like Sherlock was.

It was in moments like this, I wish I had Doctor Strange’s ability to make a portal, to effortlessly transport me upstairs. Why that doctor came to mind, you ask. Well, I had just watched the movie with Mike’s twelve-year-old daughter, who was obsessed with the girl who played America Chavez. The actress has a very complicated name, I don’t even know how to spell. Becca, Mike’s daughter, was quite fascinated with me and Sherlock for reasons unclear to me, and we liked her as well. She was smart, a bit sassy, and curious about everything. Becca had pleaded with Sherlock to come to the cinema as well, but there was only so much fantasy and sci-fi my beloved detective could digest in one week. We had binge-watched an entire season of Doctor Who lately, and Sherlock’s limit was reached two days prior to my session with Becca.

I tried one last shout: “Open the damn door!”

***

The end of this story; Mycroft took pity on me and sent Anthea round with a spare key. When I finally came upstairs, Sherlock was still galaxies away.

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