Ghost Shrimp Sherlock
The rising wind turned the spring afternoon chilly, making John wish he’d had the forethought to bring his real jacket. It also meant all the cabs they came across were full, but Sherlock didn’t seem to mind. He led the way down the city streets at a brisk pace, with his coat collar turned up against the wind in a way that made John roll his eyes.
The case had been solved in only an hour’s investigation. John was surprised Sherlock had even bothered coming outside. the Detective hadn’t responded when John commented that he seemed in a surprisingly good mood, but John thought he saw a hint of a smile.
The smile disappeared when Sherlock halted unexpected in front of a bet shop. John almost crashed into his back, and took a moment to steady himself.
“Sherlock,” he said, but Sherlock had already disappeared into the shop. Looking into the window, John saw a pen full of small dogs, puppies out front where they’d be easy to see. Suddenly worried, John followed his flat mate inside.
Instead of hovering over the dogs, however, Sherlock seemed to have gravitated to the aquariums. “What are we doing in here?” John asked as he eyed the bright beta fish warily.
“Shopping,” Sherlock responded curtly. “What does it look like?”
“We don’t have room in the flat for an animal, especially if you’re just going to experiment on it.”
Sherlock said nothing, which was exactly what John had expected. He was watching the goldfish rather intently, swimming around in a tank so large it was obvious how fast their were breeding them to be sold as food.
“If you buy a fish you have to feed it,” John said, mentally adding ‘and clean up after it and take care of it.’ “And warn Mrs. Hudson about it.”
“How do you feel about these?” Sherlock asked, pointing at a small tank of guppies. It occurred to John that he was in a pet shop, looking at fish with his flat mate. He really didn’t want to be here anymore.
“I don’t think it would be humane to buy a little fish just to see how long it takes to die.”
“What about one of these?” Sherlock now pointed at another tank. The sign read ‘Ghost Shrimp’ but John could hardly see anything inside. What he could see were a bunch of shrimp eyes hovering about and several vague, translucent body outlines scuttling across the blue rocks.
“Those are horrifying,” John said matter-of-factly. “Were you planning on injecting them with pigmentation?”
“Such an obvious idea, John. I was thinking something more interesting.”
“Of course you were. You can’t buy one of those things and keep it in our flat unless you put some color in it.”
Sherlock seemed to take a minute to consider that suggestion. He finally said, “Deal.”