BBC Sherlock Imagines (Book 2)

Sherlock and John: Don't Drink the Tea

Request for Fandom_beau

~

John Watson was just about ready for bed. It was 11:29pm on a Wednesday, and he yawned as he shut his laptop. He glanced at Sherlock who had his eyes closed and head balanced on his hands in prayer position.

The doctor lifted himself from the chair and walked to the kitchen to get a drink of water. But instead, he found a cup of tea waiting for him, still warm too. He looked at Sherlock again, but he was still complacent and unmoving. Perhaps Mrs. Hudson had left this here for them. He didn't remember Sherlock getting up to make any, of course he had been immersed in his blog, and well when he was writing, the world could be ending and he wouldn't notice.

He finally convinced himself that Mrs. Hudson had made this specifically for him, knowing that lately he had felt sickly and so why wouldn't the old woman do a nice thing for him? He took a sip, smiling happily as it slid down his throat and warmed his stomach. Little did he know, Sherlock now had his eyes trained on John, waiting for the transformation. But John was oblivious with his back to Sherlock. He just smiled in contentness to himself, then took another drink. Then another. Then another.

"Taste good?" asked a deep voice loudly, right next to his ear. John jumped, then out of surprise, spit out the tea. He wiped his mouth and turned to Sherlock who stood close smirking. "Feel any different?" asked the detective.

"Uh, no? Should I? Damnit Sherlock, what the hell did you do to the tea this time?"

Sherlock ignored John's questions, instead he grabbed the cup and took a drink himself. It tasted normal, which either meant that he was a good enough scientist that the formula was undetectable, or the formula was not working at all.

"This was supposed to be fast acting," said Sherlock, handing the cup back to John. "One minute tops, well two for the amount of time it would take for you to transform. But it's been what, five minutes now? Too long. I'll just have to remake the whole thing, maybe add in more..." Sherlock trailed off on his words as he left the kitchen and marched to his bedroom.

John was fuming as he set down the teacup. How could he be so stupid? After all this time of living with Sherlock, if there was one thing he learned, it was don't drink the tea. Unless he made it himself or knew that Mrs. Hudson had made it. As John got ready for bed, and as he was falling asleep, he continued to repeat the same words over and over again in his head.

Don't drink the tea. Don't drink the tea. Don't drink the tea.

~

John's eyes opened and he yawned, stretching out his arms and adjusting his pillow. He glanced at the digital - 8:53am. He stretched again, then willed himself out of bed. First stop was the bathroom. He was still bleary eyed as he peed and flushed, but when he walked to the sink to wash his hands, the sight he saw in the mirror woke him right up.

"What the... SHERLOCK!" he yelled, running out of the bathroom and into the detectives room. John flipped on the light and ripped the sheets back to reveal a small curly haired boy, whom he assumed was Sherlock as a child. The child rubbed his eyes, and as they focused on John, a small smirk appeared, the same one that adult Sherlock held.

"So I guess the tea worked."

"Sherlock whAT THE HELL. Why am I 10 years old again? Why do I have bright blonde hair again that's grown past my ears and chubby cheeks and WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?"

"It's simple really," said young Sherlock, hopping out of bed and walking past John to grab his robe. He put it around himself, but he was so short that a good length of it dragged on the ground as he walked down the hall. "I mixed some chemicals together, put it in your tea, and voila." Sherlock hopped on his armchair and brought his hands together, fingertips resting on his lips.