038 || dictated;

[workaphilic]

There's honey in the kitchen.

[It's about as unceremonious as announcements gets. It has the air of something he forgot to do over and over and over and over again before he snapped and did it just to stop being reminded of it.]

I'd call it a testament to my colonies' success, but it's taking up space in my flat and I need to get rid of it. I have more than what I need for my own purposes, so if you want it, take it; if you don't, I don't care. Not as if it's in a rush to spoil.

[True to his word, there is honey in the kitchen today.

Jars and jars of it, stacked more in mounds than in rows. Multicolored sticky notes are attached to jars at various intervals, with notes along the same general theme scrawled on them in permanent marker: a purple one that says 'FREE,' a green one that says 'PLEASE DO TAKE,' a blue one that says 'SAFE TO EAT.'

This is true for all but three jars, which have been set in a row slightly away from the others. There is one hot pink note attached to each: 'DO', 'NOT', and 'TOUCH', respectively.

Beside it all is one Mr Sherlock Holmes, sitting cross-legged on the counter in front of the toaster oven, journal open in his lap and mobile phone in his palm, the king of multitasking.]

Comments

[atrophied]

Sherlock Holmes. Apiculturist. Thought about putting it on a business card?

[ which is to say yo. house picks up a jar. ]

[workaphilic]

[Sherlock glances at him.]

I've thought about it. [And he looks back down.] Shouldn't let it get too cluttered, though, so they say.

[atrophied]

[ he sticks a honey-coated finger in his mouth to get a taste. ]

Good honey.

[ leaving his cane on a chair, he limps heavily to the counter to get himself some bread.

as if only just discovering something mildly interesting, he asks: ] What's the story with those three?

[workaphilic]

They aren't safe to eat.

[Pause. He squints at them.]

Probably.

[atrophied]

You ruined perfectly good honey? For shame. What happened?

[ from fake horror to actual interest in 1.6 seconds. ]

[indirectcause]

[He only came in to get some food, dude, why you gotta make this some sort of creepy puzzle? He looks at the piles of honey, then carefully at the guy sitting on the counter]

What's with the post-it notes? Why not just keep the three jars you don't want back?

[Because it's stuff like this that makes you not trust a person, bro]

[workaphilic]

[His eyebrows go up, but his eyes don't leave his phone.]

In my experience, people demand to be told the same thing over and over again as a general rule. I'm just keeping one step ahead.

[That doesn't answer the second question, like, at all, but then he isn't really the kind of guy to be trusted immediately anyway.]

[indirectcause]

[Oh good, he's avoiding answering questions. That's always a GREAT sign]

Okay. But why the three jars?

[workaphilic]

They aren't your problem as long as you don't touch them.

[heloise]

Why bees?

[workaphilic]

Why not bees?

[heloise]

You could have kept dogs or horses instead. It would be common.

[workaphilic]

And boring. I'm not known to do either.

[dictated]

[wantsiceland]

What's the catch?

[workaphilic]

There isn't one. Take it or leave it, it makes no difference to me.

[wantsiceland]

What makes yours better than honey people could just wish for?

[workaphilic]

Mine doesn't have a catch.

[deltacain]

[And David thinks he might venture down to check out this free honey. He needs a break from reading, anyway.

So, here he is, walking into the kitchen, a book tucked under one arm, his eyes instantly drawn to the sticky notes all over them as he picks up the jar with 'SAFE TO EAT' on it.]

Good advertising...

[He doesn't know that Sherlock is the man sat on the counter. Yet.]

[workaphilic]

[Without looking up:]

Put the note on another jar if you end up taking it, I don't feel like writing any more.

[deltacain]

Oh. Sure.

[He removes the note and sticks it on another of the unmarked jars.

He then looks back to Sherlock, his eyes attaching onto the device in his hand and frowning slightly.

He's saying nothing, moving off to try some of the honey.]

[workaphilic]

[To say Sherlock doesn't notice would be inaccurate in the extreme, but it's not the first time he's gotten glances because of the technology he carries around.

Other than his eyes flicking up to make sure the request was carried out, he doesn't respond any more. Just goes on with whatever he needs to be doing sitting on a counter in a public kitchen.]

[Action

[the_effect_she_has]

[You never turn down free food. Even if it is from Sherlock. So when she walks into the kitchen, she eyes the varying jars and only picks the ones with the labels that say 'Safe To Eat'.]

[She put them in her satchel, and paused before the lanky man.] If I eat this, and end up going down the drugged path to the home of my nightmares, I'm going to cover you in your own honey, stake you out in the forest and let the animals eat you.

[workaphilic]

[Sherlock smiles broadly at her.]

Wouldn't that take the animals down the drugged path to the home of their own nightmares?

[the_effect_she_has]

[She gave him a long, hard look.]

Which means ...they'd just tear you apart faster.

[workaphilic]

[His eyes go a little bit vacant, while he rewinds and considers that.

There's nothing wrong with the honey, of course, but it's fun to think of possibilities.]

Neat.