Summer Sun

"Bored…" Sherlock announced rather loudly.  "Bored, bored… BORED!"  Flopping on the beach mat like an air drowning fish, he tried to get comfortable but failed.

"How can you possibly be bored?  We're in PARADISE!"  John gesticulated at the scenery around them.  Hot sand, warm ocean… palm trees, cooing doves and dramatic landscape.  

"There is nothing that holds my interest here."  Sherlock replied.

John rolled his eyes in that 'why me' sort of way.  "Really?  Then why did you even bother to come?"

"You think I would let you wander off alone on holiday to another country?"

John wasn't paying attention to Sherlock's answer.  At that moment two bronzed beauties in thong bikinis happened by.  "Hello, ladies… Fancy a bit of sun?"  The doctor beamed.

The girls giggled to themselves in amusement.  "He's British!"  Yes, Yankee girls often liked the sound of the male British accent.  The pair lingered a moment, looking over John and his companion as if assessing them.

"Piss off!"  Sherlock growled, frightening the two beauties away.

John scowled and glared at Sherlock.  "That was uncalled for."

Sherlock cracked an eyelid open, glancing at the retreating females.  "No it wasn't.  Let's go."

"Where?  Why?"

"You are turning red and I can't be any better.  Shade.  Now!"

Left to the task of gathering their things, John sullenly followed the detective back towards the hotel's pool and bar area.  The hotel itself was once a mansion from the Victorian Era, owned by the royalty of the island.  Once upon a time the native royals of the island had embraced the sense of contemporary fashion, struggling to remain sovereign over their island nation as Yankees stripped them of their land and rule, eventually making it part of the United States.

Of course the English had done the same back in their own time of Empirical rule.

Back in their clothes, Sherlock and John sat at a table on the "lanai" for "Victorian High Tea."  John nibbled on the delicious finger sandwiches, sharing a cuppa with Sherlock.  "At least it's warm here."

Sherlock nodded, sipping his own tea.

"You can't complain about the cold.  The temperature isn't extreme."

"There's mold and cockroaches…"

"It's warm and moist with a lot of people around.  It's still beautiful and just a bit wild."

"There are gangs and drug violence like everywhere else…"

"And you can walk hand in hand with a loved one on the beach at sunset, fragrant flowers draped around your shoulders."

Sherlock chuckled softly.  "You're too romantic."

"Why did you come with me then?  I needed to get away from the stress and there seemed no better place than an exotic tropical island.  You could have gone on your own summer holiday.  I'm sure you would enjoy some time alone without me hanging around the flat."

Sherlock's ice blue eyes stared at the doctor for a long moment.  Finally he sighed.  "It is pretty here.  I like the scenery."  His eyes never flickered from John.

Despite the humid heat, John shivered, seeing something stark and hungry in the detective's eyes.  Finally he broke eye contact and stared down at the remaining petit fours.  Casually he picked up one and held it out to Sherlock who leaned forward to take a bite.  John shivered again.

"You are completely red, John.  I think you've been out in the sun too long.  Maybe we should go back to our room.  I'll rub that aloe stuff on your back."

John nodded, trying not to grin like an idiot at the man who followed him halfway across the planet just to spend time with him.  "Yeah…"

And with that Sherlock signaled the waiter for the bill.