Stranger: Once again, John deftly dodged the hand feeling around under the sofa for him, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he did. “Go away! Leave me alone!” This was bad. Very, very bad. He’d been seen. And now he was trapped, like a mouse. But maybe if he stayed under here the couch the man might eventually get bored or frustrated and leave long enough for John to escape. Maybe. Hopefully.
You: "Let's not be silly about this I just want to talk to you- ow! Bloody hell!" Sherlock withdrew his hand after he accidentily got stuck on a thumbtack hidden underneath the sofa, "Please, just a name!"
Stranger: "Go /away/!" He squeaked and stumbled back, only to trip over a sock that had somehow ended up under the sofa. "It's none of your business so your might as well just leave me alone!" John prayed the man didn't look under the sofa and see how easy a target he was as he tried to stand back up quickly, only to stumble again.
You: "I mean you no harm really," he sucked his sore finger and began think think how to draw him out. Such a small humanoid creature from what what Sherlock saw and such small creatures generally like sweet things. "A ha" quickly moving to the kitchen, he took some bread and slathered some jam on top, strawberry.
"A peace offering for you, must be hungry," he stated and placed the plate on the floor
Stranger: What was this human playing at? John's eyes narrowed at the plate, but he could smell it from where he was standing and it smelled absolutely delicious. It had been forever since he'd last had jam. In fact, it had been several days since he'd had any real food of note. This man rarely left his flat or stocked his kitchen, which made getting food a bit difficult. But he still couldn't let his guard down, especially with the man kneeling so near. "Move back a bit, human." He'd be able to escape back under the sofa if the man so much as moved funny, he reasoned.
You: "...human?... I suppose," Sherlock mumbled to himself and took two strides back, even for a human was a great deal of distance, "Does this make you more comfortable?"
Stranger: It did, a bit. At least he could have a bit of a headstart if he had to run. Cautiously, John moved forward out of the shadows of the sofa and finally poked his head out to look first at the man, then the bread and jam. It really did look good. Moving forward slowly, as if scoping out the area, John finally climbed onto the plate and broke a piece of the bread and jam off to nibble at. But his eyes never left the man in front of him.
You: "I'm...just sitting alright...moving slow..." the Detective held out his hand in surrender and slowly sat down and crossed his legs. From his deductions this small 'man' was of a humanoid nature though clearly not human as he did not reach the height or weight of the average man. Small little raggedy clothes, probably getting snagged on the pricks and points from within the wall.
"Good?"
Stranger: He started a bit as he was asked a question directly, but nodded quickly. "Yeah, Thanks." He realized he had a bit of jam on his cheek and quickly wiped it away, flushed. "I don't get jam often. It's hard to get to in the fridge."
You: The little man made him smile, the whole ordeal far more interesting then the case he had been investigating, glad to have something exciting to study.
"To be honest I am more surprised you did not move on to a different dwelling, I have few rations for you. I rarely consume anything, slows me down with my work."
Stranger: "I usually get things from that nice old woman downstairs, but she's gone somewhere for the last week. Everything's locked up tight." John shrugged a bit. He had no idea where she went, but he hoped she was a having a good time wherever she was. She always left biscuits where they were easy to get to, so she was okay in his book.
You: "Mrs. Hudson left? ...when did she- .... I don't remember her telling me... Well, then can I guess you are thirty as well? I was going to make tea before I spotted you on the mantle there. Don't mind the skull, he's a friend," Sherlock tilted his head.
Stranger: He flushed again. "Thirty-seven," He said quickly. But he'd aged rather well for a Borrower. Mostly because he spent a large portion of his life indoors. "But I was just checking to see if it was safe to come out. I didn't think you'd actually see me."
Stranger: "Er, yes, please." He nodded, a bit hesitantly. "You said tea, didn't you? I haven't had tea in forever." It was rather hard to heat up water and make it without being found, after all.
You: "Just a tic then," Sherlock nodded and boiled the water. It occurred to him that the Little One could not drink from an ordinary cup and it's not like he had doll cups around the flat. An idea occured to him, so the Detective poured the tea in his own cups, bit of sugar, milk and took one of the clean eye drops from his chemistry set. "Here," sitting back in his spot, Sherlock sucked small droplets of tea from his cup and arm outstretched, let the droplets fall near the bread.
Stranger: "Ah -- thank you." He carefully picked up one of the droplets to sip at, closing his eyes as he did. Oh, that was nice. Very nice. He smiling a bit. It was worth his hands getting a bit sticky because he'd left his thimble at home. "It's good."
You: "Now that we are having tea time, best we exchange pleasantries as my brother always badgered on to me when I was a child. Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective," at first he held out his hand and after smacking himself in the forehead, stuck out his index finger instead.
Stranger: He looked at the finger for a moment before wiping his sticky hands on his ratty trousers and shaking the offered finger. "John Watson, doctor, I suppose you could call me. The closest we Borrowers can get to doctors, anyway."
You: Doctor? Looked nothing much like it, more of a dusty little thing. "So... a Borrower? Are you allowed to talk about such things?" Sherlock inquired. From what he can tell these Borrowers were clearly an advanced society, already having doctors and other professionals such as tailoring... well maybe they needed a new one. "Do you have family? Are you all spread out? All of you live in my flat?"
Stranger: "Probably not," John shrugged. "Then again, I shouldn't have been seen in the first place. Or have accepted your peace offering of jam on bread and tea." Then he carefully moved to sit down on the edge of the plate, watching the Sherlock. "But I'm the only one here so it shouldn't matter. My family -- my parents and sister -- all still live in the country, for all I know. Haven't heard from them in years."
You: "That's amazing, how did you get out here? Jump in someone's purse? Take a cab?" Sherlock shot off his questions and then paused, "I won't tell your secret. People don't like me anyway, so no one ever visits here, just me. I wouldn't mind that you stay."
Stranger: Ah, thank you." He nodded, smiling a bit. "I like it here. It's a nicer place to live than the last few homes. And I road in someone's luggage all the way here. On a train, I think it's called."
You: "Must have taken the Tube part of the way... now when you are done there, just say so, I'll draw you a bath." Standing once more, Sherlock found some tub aware and with the left over boiled water, filled it a few centimeters and the moving to the bathroom, cut off a nib of soap and squirted a small bit of shampoo onto it. "Just have to let the water cool," he called from the bathroom.
Stranger: "A...a bath?" He hadn't had a real bath in months. Usually he just scrubbed himself down with water from the leaky pipe under the bathroom. He didn't even pause to think about how odd it was that the man was even offering him a bath. "I'm done now, I guess."
You: "Mhm." Picking a few selected books, he stacked them in such a way the small doctor might climb them and slip into the 'bath.' Still keeping his distance, Sherlock opened up his palm, "Have to trust me now, and of course I won't look, just leave the clothes on the counter."
Stranger: "T-thanks," He nodded quickly and climbed onto the hand, hesitantly, so he could be taken to the bathroom. He'd trust him, for now, and hoped his trust wasn't misplaced.
You: "Alright hold onto my thumb," the hand lifted as slowly as he could, walked into the bathroom and dropped him at the counter, "since your voicebox and lungs are fairly small, I won't be able to hear you if you shout, so I'll check in after ten minutes if that's alright with you?"
You: "Shan't have my new flatmate drown."
Stranger: John nodded as he scrambled down frown the hand, flushed and his heart thumping wildly. Even though he'd consented to being carried, it was still nerve wracking to move so quickly and be so high up. "That's fine. Thank you for this, Sherlock."
You: "Course," the detective left the door ajar and sunk into his chair, hands clasped together. How was any of this possible? Certainly scientists were discovering new species of animal yearly, both big and small. This case was entirely different in itself, as if an actual human male had been shrunk down. Clearly there was an exhibit of intelligence, culture within his own people, a society. Far advanced as normal humans were, maybe even better given that they had a different perspective of the world around them. There was a drive to study and even a hint to experiment but such things were out of the question.
Stranger: After the bigger man had left, John quickly undressed and climbed into the warm water, sighing happily and sinking down enough to completely soak his head before coming back up for air. This was heaven. He never would have thought that he would even still be alive if he was seen by a human. But he was, and he was being treated much better than he ever expected. He quickly grabbed the bit of soap and started to sud himself down, smiling as he did.
You: what did his insides look like? Sherlock shook his head so the thoughts would disappear... were all if his insides normal just small? Maybe two hearts? 'Stop it!' After another minute, he remember John's rags and poor state of clothes.
"Excuse me, John?" mouth near the bathroom door, "I noticed you state of clothes and um... do you need to go shopping? I am sure we can find some sort of toy or doll store and find something in your size."
Stranger: He squeaked and ducked farther down into the water, not expecting Sherlock to be back so soon. He quickly looked over his shoulder at the doorway. "N-no, it's fine. Really. I mostly make my own clothes, but I haven't had the chance to get more fabric in months. I have some other, less ratty clothes in my home."
You: "It's settled then, I'll order some fabrics online," Sherlock answered before John could say anything more, keys flying at his laptop at his desk. Why was he going so far for him... it was a strange feeling... Something to investigate later, Sherlock decided. Then there was the matter of how John would go about the house and just for safe keeping, he order some toy ladders and then decided on a small car as well. "Hot wire the insides so he can drive it himself...that would work..."
