Boredom during history class resulted in this character study. Enjoy, mon choux.


"Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?"

Mycroft's words swam through Watson's head. He was alone in the flat tonight – Sherlock was off at the crime lab, and Mrs. Hudson was at a mahjongg marathon. Watson missed Sherlock. He wanted him to come home and watch cheap sci-fi movies on telly with him. He wanted to snuggle with his flatmate on the sofa. He was bored. He stared at the smiley face made of bullet holes that Sherlock had put in the wall. He heard the gunshots ring in his ears. He pulled his laptop out and went to Sherlock's 'Science of Deduction' page and read every entry. Twice. Three times. He fished in his pocket. He was going to do it. He had paid quite a bit for it, but there was no time to waste. Watson was bored, but he was also ready for a commitment. He went over to the microwave. He opened the door, swapped the jar of eyeballs with his small, velvet-lined box, and shut the door. No. That would just make Sherlock angry. He cared way too much about those eyeballs. Watson swapped the eyeballs back in the microwave and sighed. He had to do this the old-fashioned way. He sat back down in the armchair, making sure to keep the box in a place where he could easily reach it. He shut his laptop and sat. He stared at the smiley face again. Mycroft's words echoed in his head again. He waited. He was happy.

•••••••••••••••••

An hour had passed. Still no Sherlock. Watson still waited. The door opened. Sherlock was wet; it was raining. He shut the door, hung up his coat and scarf, and turned to look at Watson. He was on one knee, smiling through his tired, teary eyes, a velvet ring box in his hand. Sherlock approached Watson, analyzed the situation, and looked at the ring. Clearly expensive. New. Polished heavily. 7-carats. Platinum band. Sherlock's eyes became large and shining as he looked up into Watson's.

"Yes," replied Sherlock. "Absolutely."