#elementary 3x12

I think this scene shows what an amazing amount of character development went into Elementary Sherlock. Sometimes we see a Sherlock cry when they loose a John, or Mycroft or a SO. But when a Sherlock feels alone and depressed and sorry for himself we see him taking drugs. This is a rule since ACD.

We never see a Sherlock crying for himself. Because all this sadness gets supressed. Mostly with drugs and when he is not taking drugs it still gets suppressed in other ways.

But Elementary allowed Sherlock to grow, real growth, that allowed Sherlock to open up and to cry for himself. No that much that he would share this tears with someone else (it is still Sherlock) but enough for him to allow himself meaningful moments. Sadness, tears, nothing someone needs to be ashamed of, not even Sherlock.

This scene has a hidden beauty imo

Right so I know I’m late to the party and I’m only on season 3 of Elementary but there’s been so many things on my mind I had to make this post. I love this show soo much.

I just finished the episode where Kitty actually gets on the plane and flies off, and I absolutely love how the series shows you that there are several types of love, not just the romantic kind. I LOVE that they don’t make Kitty and Sherlock kiss in that scene where he comes to stop her but not really (I love that he gives her the option to choose and says that he’ll understand whatever she decides to do, like he actually gets it, how many other people would be like oh yeah if you wanna kill the guy I totally understand and it’s your choice), and I love that she doesn’t develop an awkward crush on him (which could easily happen considering how he’s teaching her and pretty much gave her life meaning etc), like both of them understand the nature of their relationship and when she says I love you, it’s like ugh yes. That kind of love! It doesn’t need to be cheesy and romantic or sexual. I mean I get it that Sherlock is kind of like a father figure to her, but not quite. 

"I've missed it."

The tea is non-negotiable, unless it’s a morning for coffee, but the data collected is insufficient for his purposes at this time so that variable is set aside for the moment. Tea variety confirmed on the recent site visit.

Despite adhering to any number of prosaic and stereotypical practices of little value or benefit, Watson is nonetheless accepting of almost any breakfast provided to her upon first awaking, within certain established parameters. He wonders briefly if she was always this way and starts to formulate a question or two for her mother on childhood food preferences before coming to his senses. Mary Watson is uncommonly skilled at redirecting conversation toward topics he has no interest in pursuing. Better not to engage. Finding out whether Watson has always been an ecumenical eater can wait. Focus instead on verifying that she still is, and lure or rather satiate the hunger for novelty along with breaking her fast.

Today’s experiment centred on spreads, picking up where they last left off: which and in what quantities did Watson prefer on her toast. Butter, jam, peanut butter. Past experience taught him too many options muddied the results. He had no categorization for a response that consisted of laughing at the carefully curated arrangement of ten varieties of jam. Laying them out in an array based on allergen scratch-testing should not have been inherently humorous, but she broke out in giggles at unpredictable intervals for the rest of the day, and it ruined all attempts at incorporating even a single variety of jam for some months after.

Baked goods uniformly produce pleased smiles while being consumed although are generally coincident with an higher than average energy lull two hours later. Porridge is rarely acceptable unless impeccably timed to be ready within 3.4 minutes of her transition from prone to seated on days when cloud-cover exceeds 75%. But even under ideal conditions, rejection on the basis of texture retains high probability. Cold cereal likewise holds little appeal, which at least has the benefit of reducing the need for him to share. Eggs are the same: painstaking timing requirements, exacting texture requirements. The days she stumbled bleary into the kitchen, before, were yet another area of research beyond the scope of his tray study, and he hadn’t bothered to record results those mornings. He assumed there would always be opportunity for that later. He knows better now.

But here she is again, second morning in as many weeks, and he knows not to remark upon it or allow himself to plan for the future. He’s using it to distract from his worry about Kitty, and the seriousness of the case makes him feel guilty for being glad of Watson asleep in the brownstone again. Not glad of the case, certainly not, but that it washed her up on his shores, and she worked until she had to rest, and she didn’t even pretend she wasn’t going to curl up on the couch. The only unknown was which couch, a question that opened whole new vistas of experimental opportunity he might look forward to. An occasion worthy of the pink grapefruit juice, even though he’d originally planned to test her preferences for juice, fruit, and other fruit-based concoctions that would never occur in nature, once morning temperatures topped 10 degrees centigrade. Perhaps spring would come early.

dooooo ittttttt

The scene where he tried to make Kitty breakfast... I had all kinds of "Persistence of Memory" feelings about it (I don't think you've seen that scene yet, it's the end of chapter two) but my feelings were mostly "Finish 'Persistence of Memory,' and then you're out." I'm spending a lot of time having "I'm so done writing fic for this show" feelings, and it was especially bad during last night's episode. :-/

I have percolating fix-it fic feelings (which will probably die on the vine because of school cryyy). Ah man. I once wrote a short that fit that exact description. Because it’s my fave trope too bahaha.