For No One
"John, please, open the door."
Sherlock stood outside, his ear pressed against the locked door, listening for any signs of recognition from John. When none came, he hit the door angrily and, ignoring the searing pain coming from his fist, sat down beside the door.
The detective ran over the past half hour's events carefully in his mind, looking for some defect in his seemingly flawless plan. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and replayed it all over again:
9:00 pm- Sherlock had tiptoed quietly up the steps, knowing that each step brought him closer to John. He made sure Mrs. Hudson didn't hear him. She'd spoil the surprise.
9:01 pm- When Sherlock stood outside the flat's door, he wasn't sure he was ready to knock. He couldn't help but worry that John might be angry, as much as he wanted to believe that his friend would be happy to see him. He begins to pace.
9:05- Finally, the consulting detective raps the door lightly. He holds his breath as he hears footsteps coming. They stop,