Tech Support with MI6
John lay back, comfortable on his bed. He knew that it was unlikely that there would be a case tonight, he hoped at least. He was looking forward to a nice quiet night, lying in bed, writing up Sherlock's latest case and relaxing for once. He reached between his bed and his bedside table, hand searching for his laptop. With a frown, he realised that the electronic device wasn't there. John huffed in frustration and hauled himself off of his bed and stomped his way into the lounge.
Sherlock was lying on the couch, his blue robe sprawled out around him and John's red laptop open on his stomach. It didn't surprise John that Sherlock had removed his laptop from his room, or that he had cracked the password. John thought that his password was rather creative, but to a mind like Sherlock's it was most probably childishly simple, and rather dull.
"Sherlock," John called as he walked over, "Sherlock." He called a little louder. It wasn't that Sherlock hadn't heard him, the man had amazing hearing, but more that he was ignoring John.
"Yes, what do you want?" Sherlock said, fingers dancing across the keys of the laptop.
"Why do you have my laptop?"
"It was closer," the detective replied, without looking up.
"If you hadn't noticed, your laptop is on the desk over there while MY laptop was in my room, which is upstairs," John sat down on his chair.
Sherlock made a non committal noise, the clicking of the keyboard the only sound in the apartment.
"Try again Sherlock," John smiled, "Why do you have my laptop?"
Sherlock mumbled something under his breath, just quietly and quickly enough that John didn't catch it.
"What was that?" He queried.
"Mine's not working," Sherlock answered.
John sighed, that didn't really surprise him, but he did wonder why the genius had decided it was a good idea to experiment on his own laptop.
"What did you do to it?" John just had to know.
"I'm not entirely sure," Sherlock pursed his lips in annoyance, "It won't turn on properly."
"What experiment did you try on it this time?" John asked, his lips quirking in an amused smile.
This made Sherlock look up and directly at his room mate.
"Why do you think I would experiment on my own laptop?" Sherlock asked incredulously, "It would be easier to experiment on yours" he muttered afterward.
John just rolled his eyes, knowing that there was nothing that he could say that would convince the detective that experimenting on other people's belongings was wrong.
"Well, if you didn't experiment on it, then what happened?" He asked.
Sherlock lowered the screen of the laptop slightly and looked at John over it.
"I was on a website, probably not the most reliable one, following a lead," He explained, "Then suddenly it made a horrible noise and the screen went black." He huffed and then added "And now it won't turn on. "
John had to smile, it was so simple to see what had damaged the genius's laptop.
"You've probably just got a nasty virus on your computer," John laughed, "Take it into a computer shop tomorrow and they should be able to fix it." John stood up and made his way to the kitchen. He wasn't going to get his laptop back tonight, he knew that. So he decided that he may as well relax in front of the telly with a cup of tea instead.
It was about an hour later when Sherlock started muttering under his breath, cursing the laptop. John ignored it, figuring that the device was probably not doing things how the detective expected.
"John, get my phone," Sherlock stated, tapping angrily at the keyboard with one finger.
John looked up, and then at Sherlock, "Where is it?" he asked resignedly. The detective waved a hand in the general direction of his desk, and John got up to retrieve the phone. He handed the mobile to Sherlock, who typed in a number and promptly handed the phone back to John. He put the phone to his ear and waited for the call to go through, not knowing who he was calling.
"Sherlock, what do you want now?" A male voice answered on the other end.
"Umm, hello," John replied, a little bit startled.
"You aren't Sherlock," The man on the other end stated, "How did you get this number?"
"Uuuum, Sherlock typed it in and handed me the phone," John answered truthfully, "Who are you?"
Before another word could be said, Sherlock took the phone from John's hand and hit the speaker button.
"Hello brother," Sherlock said, placing the phone on top of John's laptop, "I am in need of your particular type of assistance."
John looked shocked, "There are more of you?" He sputtered, "There's more than just you and Mycroft?"
"Brilliant observation, John," Sherlock drawled, "This is my little brother." Here he was cut off from saying more by the voice at the other end of the phone.
"Q. I am Q, if you really must know," The voice said through the speaker.
"No," Sherlock corrected, "That's your title. Your name is…"
"SHERLOCK!" the voice shouted through the phone, all Holmesian anger and fury.
"Alright," Sherlock huffed, "I need you to fix my laptop."
There was a sigh on the other end of the phone, and John sat down. He knew that if this went anything like the conversations between Sherlock and his elder brother, he would both want to be sitting down and have his nice cup of tea.
"I don't see why you can't get an ordinary computer shop to have a look at it," Q stated.
"Because it is much easier to get you to do it," Sherlock replied, "Plus, you won't question the content of my laptop."
"Fine," The other Holmes conceded, "Can you turn it on for me then, I have some spare time right at the moment."
"No I can't," Sherlock replied, "It isn't turning on."
"Have you tried charging it then?" The other asked sarcastically.
"Of course I have!" The detective replied, "It isn't flat. It made a strange noise and the screen went black. Now, can you come and fix it?"
"No,not right now," Q replied, "I can't just drop what I'm doing and travel halfway across London because my brother has broken his laptop, again."
"I thought you said you had some spare time," Sherlock replied snarkily.
"I did," His brother replied, "Just not enough to get to Baker street , fix your laptop and be back at work before an agent blows something up, again."
"Could you come when you're free?" John asked politely, recognising the look on Sherlock's face and wanting to avoid a brotherly argument.
"Yes," Q replied, "I can come by tomorrow morning and fix whatever my brother has done to his computer."
"Fine," Sherlock replied, just as John answered, "Thank you."
"Good bye, brother," Sherlock said.
"Oh and John," Q added before Sherlock could disconnect, "Your tea is getting cold."
As the phone beeped to say that the call had disconnected, John looked down at the cup of tea in his hand, halfway to his mouth.
Vaguely he wondered just how many cameras Mycroft Holmes had put in 221B Baker street, and just who had access to those feeds.