Adventures in TV land
Boz1310
Warning: I do not own BBC Sherlock. This show rightfully belongs to Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. The main characters are from the stories written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (bless his soul). I am simply an innocent fan girl with nothing else to do on a weekday…
AN: This might be my first crackfic… I guess it depends on your opinion of crack. I am thinking of making this story have multiple chapters. It will be a collection of little oneshots. This story is about John discovering that Sherlock does, in fact, possess a wide variety of knowledge about pop culture. Well, sort of…
Without further ado,
Enjoy!
Chapter One- The Sherlock
Dr. John Watson let a deep sigh of relief escape his lips as he climbed up the seventeen steps leading him to his flat at 221B Baker Street. Since his flat mate, Sherlock Holmes, the infamous consulting detective did not have any cases that week; John had offered to take up more shifts at the local clinic. After all, there had been countless times Sherlock had ended up at the office with an exciting case. Despite the doctor's protests, he usually succeeding in persuading John to abandon his spot and join him in solving the aforementioned task. While it was terribly exhilarating, he often had to ignore the peeved expression on Sarah's face when he explained to her why he was leaving his shift yet again. That being said, she was always very sweet about it and had let him go most of the time. He felt he had to take up more shifts now that he had some time on his hands. It was the least he could do for Sarah and the patients.
In retrospect, John might have bitten off more than he could chew. When he agreed to substitute for some of the other GPs, he had no idea how many patients there would be. Apparently, there had been a public announcement about a minor Escherichia coli outbreak at a local swimming pool. As expected, one of the worst fears a doctor could have had ensued that day. No, it wasn't that dozens of people had been critically infected with the bacteria. Rather, it was that dozens of people plagued the small walk-in claiming they had been infected with the bacteria. That's right- in fact John wanted to diagnose most of the people with a serious case of 'TV induced panic'. Coincidently, it had happened on the exact day that many of the doctors had decided to take their holidays. As if that wasn't enough, temperatures had also been a record-breaking high. This meant that John and Sarah were forced to interview their 'patients' about their supposed vomiting and diarrhea in cramped and humid spaces that smelt of wet dog and body odour. Needless to say, it had been an exhausting day.
All John wanted to do when he got home was to have a nice supper-take out, of course- a nice cup of tea, and a nice evening with the telly where he could spend an hour or two making fun of Grey's Anatomy or other medical shows.
However, having the flat mate that he did, he wasn't so sure his dream would become a reality.
Before he opened the door, he bowed his head and said a silent prayer.
If there is a god in the heavens above-that includes all possible gods, unicorns and the flying spaghetti monster, he thought. Please don't have Sherlock pester me with a case. Or worse, moan about how bored he is. I don't deserve that. I'm really tired and crotchety, especially today. I'm a good person. I heal people. I deserve an evening of rest.
Satisfied with his attempted prayer, he opened the door. He felt his eyes widen with disbelief. He felt his jaw drop in astonishment and his head tilt to the side. It was all he could do to close his mouth.
Now, John had been in the army. He was an ex-army doctor and a captain of the fifth Northumberland fusilier. He had stormed the deserts of Kandahar and Kabul with an unemotional and calm attitude. He had always handled every situation with self-regulation and coolness. It was difficult to surprise him. Moreover, it was especially difficult to render him completely and utterly speechless when he was having a bad day. In fact, it was seldom seen. In his lifetime there had been few men who could do the job. It didn't surprise him that one of the men was inflicting the same amount of speechlessness to him again. What did surprise him was what he was doing.
He supposed he had just caught Sherlock in the act.
No, not that act, you sick bugger. Get your mind out of the gutter! It was something worse… far worse. That's right, far worse than walking in on your best friend doing it. Having your best mate catch you boinking someone was extremely awkward, but it was justifiable to an extent. It was understandable. A best mate might just give you a fist bump and congratulate you for breaking your dry spell if he were that sort of fellow.
This was different in entirety.
He doubted that any person could justify this, let alone Sherlock. So that ruled out killing someone. John had to admit that Sherlock could easily explain why he had killed someone if he had decided to commit the heinous deed, particularly if that someone were to be Anderson. After all, a good friend helped you move, but a true friend helped you move a body. Not that that was John. John was good person…
No, Sherlock was doing that unexplainable. The unthinkable. John pinched himself to make sure he was not hallucinating from the poisonous fumes expelled by the patients' sweat glands he encountered that day at the clinic. Nope, this was real.
Glory be-this was real!
Sherlock Holmes was…dancing. What was better was that in all his excitement he did not notice John. Stifling his laughter, John crept behind the sofa and watched his friend dance. He was tempted to pull out his phone and get a recording he could use for blackmail, but he decided against it at the last moment. He even recognized the song. That intro with the trumpets was telltale enough.
It's not unusual to be loved by anyone
It's not unusual to have fun with anyone
but when I see you hanging about with anyone
It's not unusual to see me cry,
oh I wanna' die
John realized after a few seconds that he was doing the Carlton. With an unlit candlestick in hand, hips a-swaying and fingers a-snapping, Sherlock was doing the Carlton dance whilst lip-syncing to Tom Jones.
It was beautiful. This was epically awesome.
And truth be told, he was actually pretty good. Unfortunately, it was also pretty embarrassing. John held back a sympathetic wince when Sherlock spun around, did the splits and got back up in the same line of the song. Thankfully it was successful and Sherlock seemed unfazed by it. He continued dancing, waving his arms around, and lip-syncing into the candle. John made a memo in his head to ask Sherlock when he had become so good at dancing.
He was half way through the song, when John decided to stand up. He watched with whole-hearted amusement as Sherlock screeched to a halt, his eyes filled with horror.
"Hi there," John said nonchalantly as if he'd just got back. He headed towards the kitchen. "Do you want some Chinese tonight? Personally, I'm craving some Thai food."
Sherlock ignored the question and leapt over the couch to turn off the music. Then he stumbled into the kitchen.
"How long have you been standing there?" He asked hoarsely.
John gave a small grin. He was feeling much better; his troubles at the clinic were forgotten completely.
"Not long," He lied to his friend who had donned a relived expression on his face. John put the kettle on and sat down at the table. "Now that I know that you're a fan of Fresh Prince of Bel-air, can I call it the Sherlock from now on?"
Sherlock stared at John for a brief moment before handing him the candlestick and marching away. John giggled when he heard Sherlock's bedroom door slam shut.
"Goodnight to you too!" He said to his friend and then got up to fix himself a cup of tea.
Words: 1500+
AN: I was watching Carlton Banks dance awhile ago. It was so amusing and awkward, especially when Will caught him, and it inspired me to write this story. I am calling this story Adventures in TV land because you will have Sherlock doing or alluding to some memorable stuff from some of my favourite TV shows.
The next chapter will have segments from one of my favourite British comedy shows.
Please feel free to favourite, follow, review or whatever if you want more chapters. Any questions or suggestions can go straight to my PM box and I will make sure to answer them as quickly as possible.
Cheers,
BOZ1310- August 13th, 2013