"What made Sherlock Holmes finally stop shooting at the walls of his Flat."
A/N: Turns out I'm an indecisive Fandom Slut.. Who knew?.. This is not a Supernatural Fanfiction or Star Trek Fanfiction or Firefly Fanfiction like many of my readers are used to... Nope.. This my friends is a SHERLOCK (BBC T.V., SHERLOCK) Fanfiction.. Sorry... I'm just ssssoooo Changeable!
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What made Sherlock Holmes finally stop shooting at the walls of his Flat.
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It wasn't Mrs. Hudson's constant complaining.
It wasn't Lestrade's or Mycroft's constant scolding..
It happened on a dreadfully boring day.. Sherlock was irritated with the uneventfully dull day.
He was bored and he could not concentrate if he was bored.
None of his Experiments held any interest for him.
Well... Only one thing for it then..
He the gripped cool resin handle and fired off a shot at the wall above his "thinking couch".. He made a few adjustments on his latest invention then fired off another shot and hit the wall approximately a foot to the right of the last bullet impact.
Four shots and a nearly completed smiley face later he made another adjustment on his invention and fired again landing what would be the last bit of the smile on the smiley face.
Just as he was about to reload he was tackled to the ground by a stocky blonde blur that was wearing a burgandy jumper.
He had entirely forgotten about the existence of his recent Flatmate.
He looked up and his blonde, blue eyed Flatmate was pinning him to the ground covering him with his short stocky body.
And.. now that Sherlock was getting his breath back he could observe.
John was as taught as the string on Sherlock's violin bow and he was looking all about the room as if it was a much more expansive area..
And..
John had his Soldier Issue Gun up and at the ready pointing at nothing.
Except.. Sherlock could see that John's mind wasn't registering the harmless walls of their humble Flat.
No..
Sherlock suspected that John was seeing the desert sands of Afganistan.
There was a faint noise of an ambulance siren going off from outside and John's aim swiveled towards the window.
Now John was on the move, he moved off of Sherlock, remaining in a position that was as crouched as possible then proceeded to grab Sherlock by the collar of his shirt and drag him across the floor behind the kitchen wall as he kept the SIG up and aimed at threats that only he could see.
"Stay down." John ordered as he stepped back out from behind the kitchen wall and fired off three shots in rapid sucession.
Sherlock peaked around the wall to see that if three men of average Afghan height had been standing in the Sitting Room of their Flat then the shots John had just fired would have went right through their skulls.
When Sherlock looked up the wild and sleep glazed look was clearing from John's eyes.
Trying to keep the sitution from becoming awkwad or sentimental Sherlock looked back around the wall and gave a pouting huff as he said : "You messed up my smiley face."... But in Sherlock's mind he had come to the conclusion that firing a weapon in the Flat (however harmless it may seem since he was aiming at the wall) with a two-tour Afghanistan War Veteran Flatmate that definitely has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder sleeping just right upstairs was probably a bit not good.
And..
That..
Is..
What made Sherlock Holmes finally stop shooting at the walls of his Flat.
But..
Only when his Flatmate was at home...
