“Why did you take me here?” Sherlock growled at John. The buzzing crowds around them encroached too much on his comfort zone and consequently Sherlock was brusque… Well, more brusque than usual.
“It’s called a holiday, Sherlock. It’s what normal people do when they want to get away.” John managed to answer calmly, even though his patience was wearing thin.
“Half way across the world? With these… Americans!” spat Sherlock. The happiest place on earth didn’t seem so happy to him.
“We haven’t had a case in over a month now. You got so bad that you had Mycroft worried about you! He practically ordered both of us here, curtesy of the British government. You didn’t have a choice and neither did I, but at least let’s make the most of it.”
“Mycroft is a twit,” grumbled Sherlock to himself. Of course John, having heard all, rolled his eyes and chose to leave it at that. He and Sherlock both grudgingly got on the stupid ride they’d accidentally queued for and it started off. Suddenly-
It’s a small world after all! It’s a small world after all! It’s a small world after all! It’s a small, small world!
John shut his eyes slowly and breathed in from his diaphragm. He didn’t look over at Sherlock, but he knew enough to guess at what he would see. At least one of them needed to stay calm. As soon as John deemed himself calm enough to deal with Sherlock, he opened one eye and risked a glance that way.
For at least the hundredth time that day, John sighed. “Sherlock,” he whispered. “It’s not that bad.” Sherlock had curled himself into what almost looked like a ball and wore a scowl that put all his previous ones to shame. “At least look like a decently adjusted human being, and not a mental patient!”
After a couple seconds Sherlock began to uncurl. “Fine.” He sat straight up and folded his arms. The scowl didn’t change. With one last exasperated sigh John rested his face in his hand. Neither person moved till the ride was completely over.
As soon as John successfully got Sherlock to a more secluded bench area he shut down completely. “Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock? Sherlock!” shouted John. Thoroughly irritated, he practically fell on the bench and waited. Nothing else to do when Sherlock went to his Mind Palace.
Sherlock opened his eyes and hopped off the bench. “What was that about?” asked John.
“That song. It dirtied the Palace, so I had to clean.”
John simply blinked a few times and shook it off. As they continued to walk, that song continued to play though John’s mind without skipping a beat. What he would give to be able to just clean it out! Unconsciously he started humming it, much to Sherlock’s chagrin.
“John! That song! You put it back in my Palace!”
And thus began one of Sherlock’s daily chores… emptying the Mind Palace of It’s a Small World.
A/N – This is completely ridiculous. Seriously. I mean, usually I try to make my fics plausible headcanon, but this really is just silliness and nothing more. So yeah. Like that.