001

[paradisamods]

[And, quite suddenly...

You're holding your journal. If you already were holding it, congratulations. If you weren't... you are now! Somebody wants your attention.

And get this: it's empty.

The old one's kicking around somewhere, but for now, look at what Paradisa gave you!]

Comments

[confidente]

[ And somewhere in the castle John Watson jolts awake, having fallen asleep in his armchair, sending an empty coffee mug and closed laptop tumbling onto the floor with a loud curse and thud.

Not the most graceful waking in his life. Not at all. ]

[workaphilic]

[Sherlock doesn't even look up. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, flipping languidly through the blank pages of his journal.]

Morning, John.

[confidente]

Morning... ? [ Dear god, what is happen? Why is his journal in his hand? When did it become morning? He thought -- Rubbing his eyes he shifts, sitting up properly and collects his laptop from the floor. ]

Did something happen?

[workaphilic]

Well, AM at least. Technically.

[He turns the journal sideways to hold it by its back cover, squints as the pages flop down.]

Look at your journal. Tell me what you see.

[confidente]

Alright. [ He shoots Sherlock a look before opening it. He frowns, flipping through the pages for a moment. ]

Nothing. Blank pages. There's nothing there.

[workaphilic]

Exactly.

[And suddenly he's on his feet, holding his journal up for John to see. He's bright, excited -- he's been so BORED since Paris.]

Yours, mine, everyone's. Empty.

[confidente]

Yes, I can see that. No need to show me. [ He turns a couple more pages before closing the book. ]

Any idea why?

[workaphilic]

None whatsoever.

[And it's GREAT, it's WONDERFUL, don't you see?

He hops on the sofa and starts rifling through the spaces between the cushions.... before just pulling them off entirely and throwing them on the floor. Hope that nap was enough for you, John, because the odds of sleeping again tonight might be kind of low.]

[confidente]

[ It's a mystery, like candy for a small child. He grins a little to himself (as it is never is fun being around a bored Sherlock) until he starts rifling around the sofa. ]

What are you doing?

[wizard_redfive]

[Oh dear, Dairine recognizes that voice. Yes she does. (Welp.)

The clanging is somewhat of an attention getter, so she decides to check in.]

You alright?

[confidente]

Yes, I'm fine. [ Isn't that that... girl... well this is slightly awkward. ] Woke up too suddenly, that's all.

All the awkward.

[wizard_redfive]

Good.

[Uh, what does she say now? Man...]

Did we wake you up with all the journal chatter? I guess it is a bit late.

[confidente]

Yes -- No, no.

[wizard_redfive]

... So it's OK.

[confidente]

Yes, it's fine.

[wizard_redfive]

Good.

[Dairine goes quiet. She doesn't want to bring up their last meeting... or if her gift for Christmas reached him (in case it didn't). Powers, what is normal conversation.]

[confidente]

Oh.

I... got your gift. [ A beat. ] Thanks.

[isbritishgov]

Sleep well John?

[He's sounding far to nice for this late at night really.]

[confidente]

Wonderfully. [ And it's just so much better hearing your voice Mycroft. ]

[isbritishgov]

[You know you love it.]

Had a look through the journal?

[confidente]

[ Nope, not at all. ]

Yeah, it's empty. Any idea why? [ Oh glorious genius. ]

[isbritishgov]

[You live with his brother, you gotta love something about the Holmes charm.]

No, actually. [He's sounding slightly perturbed too at that.]

[confidente]

[ He's proving or denying anything. Thank you very much. ]

Really? [ Sorry but John can't help but be a little amused by that. ] That's a first.

[isbritishgov]

[Aww come on John. There has to be something, admit it.]

Have you any theories as to why? Or idea as to why? [Don't sound smug or amused if you don't know either buddy.]

[confidente]

[ There may be Something, but he's really not going to talk about it. Ever. ]

...Maybe it finally got full? [ There's an idea! ]