A Small Adventure, a sherlock fanfic

[A/N This came to me after I got a text from Redbox and replied as Sherlock. The whole convo between Sherlock and the Redbox messages took place between me and it. I was bored at school and got a text from them and figured, Why not? As I was trying not to crack up while texting it, I had the idwad to turn it into a fic. This is my first official fic. I have one other that's technically my first but it's not done yet. Constructive critiscim welcomed! Comment and review please :)8]

Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock. Wish I did but it belongs to the BBC, Gatiss and Moffat. I also don't own Quantom Of solace. Or redbox. Dont really know what 's supposed to go in the disclaimer. I DON'T OWN ANYTHING. This is just for fun. Not for money.

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since Sherlock had a proper case. Yes, there'd been that one with the dead husband who, though extraordinarily healthy, had suffered a stroke. Sherlock had been able to figure out that the man was having an affair. The latest of several by the state of his wardrobe. His wife of thirty years had figured it out as well and sought revenge. He was dead the next morning. Mindbogglingly boring. Now he was in 221B trying to pass the time. John was in the middle of getting rid of his experiments at the moment. He had said that Sherlock was not allowed to touch anything until

"You've left the flat and gotten some fresh air. Those chemicals are extremely hazardous and you shouldn't spend all your time breathing them in." John was in the middle of pouring another beaker of foul smelling chemicals down the drain.

"Jesus Sherlock where do you even get these?" Sherlock stared blankly at the yellow smiley face spray painted on the wall, his fingers in their usual prayer pose under his chin.

"I have my resources John. My homeless network are good for lots of things and Molly is always more than happy to help." John sighed as he placed the now empty beaker on the counter top.

"Where are they?" Sherlock's concentrated gaze flickered over to John before he half smirked.

"I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about."

John went to the fridge and reached to open it before stopping. "Do I really want to know? You know what, yeah I do. I ought to know what dead thing was touching my food before I eat it."

He stared at the bag filled with fungus infected and blister covered thumbs for a full minute before grabbing a garbage bag, reaching in, and pulling them out.

"This is going in the bin right now. I'm off to get some milk, tea, jam and biscuits. Don't blow up the flat while I'm gone." John held the plastic bag as far away from his body humanly possible as he marched out the door. Sherlock waited until he heard the door downstairs shut to see if John had gotten rid of everything. Sadly, this time he had been very thorough.

"GOD! Why does everyone have to be so stupid? They don't understand how infuriating 'normal things' are. Why would I want to go outside? I have no case now so there is absolutely no reason for me to get fresh air." He glared out the window at the ordinary people running about London. As people walked up and down Baker street he deduced them.

"Abusive relationship. No confidence. Thinking of suicide but does not want to lose who she is because her boyfriend is a complete arse. Holds strong moral values and has very close friends and family who constantly worry over her. She'll be fine." He kept working his deduction skills for about 4 minutes 52 seconds but he wasn't counting. A buzz from his phone interrupted his train of thought. Sherlock shot up and ran to the phone hoping to the God he didn't believe in that it was Lestrade in need of help with a new case. He frowned as he looked at the number on screen.

New message from:

727272

He scrolled to the open button and clicked as he ran to the couch and laid down in one quick fluent motion.

Reply Y to sign-up for Redbox mobile alerts. Youll receive monthly freebies & Redbox news! Up to 2 msg/wk. Msg&data rates aply. Txt HELP 4info, Stop 2end

Sherlock's frown deepened. Who was this? Why were they bothering him? He shrugged. "Anything to rid me of this boredom I suppose." His fingers danced over the key pad as he typed his response.

Dull. -SH

He stared at the phone waiting for the response of this mystery person with very bad grammar. Sherlock made a mental note to comment on that after further investigation of who this was. Just then his phone vibrated again.

We have received your message, but we're not sure what you're trying to do; please reply with a valid keyword. Txt STOP to end. Txt HELP for help.

Sherlock went through his mind palace. He remembered hearing John mention Redbox at some point. He mentally walked over to the room entitled, 'THINGS JOHN SAYS AND REFERS TO LATER. REMEMBER THEM SO HE DOESN'T GET MAD LIKE LAST TIME.' Sherlock winced at the memory of getting punched in the abdomen when he told John that he deleted most of what he said on a daily basis. That was in the beginning however. Now he hung onto John's every word as if his life depended on it. Surprisingly, it did many times. So often had John's words saved his life. Little tings that used to hardly matter now stored away solely because of one man. Sherlock smiled when he found the conversation about Redbox.

"Oh come on Sherlock! They have all the most recent movies on dvd for a quid!" Sherlock stared at John as if he had just said that he had just eaten fish fingers and custard.

"John why would I want to spend money on a movie that has an easily see able plot, no character development and is tasteless in more ways than one?" John closed his eyes and gripped the Tesco bags in his hands.

"Because it's a normal thing to do and a nice way to spend the night." He took a deep breath and proceeded to walk to the flat. Sherlock turned back to the infernal red machine after John turned the corner. He took a deep breath similar to John's and swallowed his pride. He picked out Quantum Of Solace. He fished for his credit card and paid. Pulling out the card and the movie, he set off in a sprint towards Baker street.

Sherlock continued to smile as he remembered the rest of the night with John, Bond, jam, biscuits and tea. It had been a great night. But it didn't change Sherlock's opinion of the Box. Whenever he went to Tesco with John, he would make sure they didn't pass the thing on their way home. He looked down at his phone and answered the thing at the other end of the line.

Why would I want to spend my time mindlessly watching rubbish television and movies? Dull. -SH

In under a minute another message flashed on the screen. Sherlock expected it to be Redbox again. This message however, was far more interesting.

I have a triple homicide case here. I've been trying to keep it from you but we can't seem to find anything. I'll give you the case details when you get to St. Barts. Too busy to text you the detail right now. The bodies are there. -GL

Sherlock smiled as he quickly texted back.

I'll be there soon. Waiting for John to come back. Make sure Anderson isn't on the case. -SH

His phone vibrated once again with a text from Redbox. Sherlock rolled his eyes and opened it.

We have received your message, but we're not sure what you're trying to do; please reply with a valid keyword. Txt STOP to end. Txt HELP for help.

Sherlock scrutinized the text. He responded back huffily,

Stop. I don't need you constantly text me. I have more important things to deal with. Lestrade just texted me with a triple homicide. Goodbye. -SH

Just as he was about to put his phone down and get ready, it vibrated again.

You will receive no further alerts from REDBOXALERTS, sorry to see you go. For help, reply HELP. For more info, visit /727272. Msg&data rates may apply.

Sherlock growled at the message.

Don't care. -SH

Sherlock once again going to get ready when the phone vibrated.

We have received your message, but we're not sure what you're trying to do; please reply with a valid keyword. Txt STOP to end. Txt HELP for help.

Sherlock took the same deep breath he copied from John that first time they encountered Redbox. He typed as calmly as he could. It was still viscious.

Stop! God you're being as intolerable as Anderson. If that's even possible. -SH

He awaited the next text as he tried to calm himself down, hoping that the constant noise of the a vibrating phone would end soon. He flinched as the phone vibrated again.

Ur now unsubscribed from Redbox marketing alerts & will no longer receive messages or chrgs, sorry to see you go. More at /727272.

Sherlock, being Sherlock, wanted to end a victor. He texted back something that would surly upset the other person to no end.

You're. Use proper English. -SH

Sherlock dropped his phone on the couch and turned to go to his room. He needed to be ready when John got home so they could go see the bodies. He was stopped by the vibration that came from his phone again. His triumphant smiled quickly left when he saw the text.

We have received your message, but we're not sure what you're trying to do; please reply with a valid keyword. Txt STOP to end. Txt HELP for help.

Still wanting to win, he quickly typed in his response

You're quite stupid aren't you? Maybe even more so than Anderson. Obviously you have the capabilty to speak and type proper English as you typed rather well in the beginning of the text. Yet at the end you chose to write txt instead of text. I'll text stop inorder to end this nonsense. Lose this number and don't text me back. -SH

The next three texts sent Sherlock over the edge. They were all the same.

We have received your message, but we're not sure what you're trying to do; please reply with a valid keyword. Txt STOP to end. Txt HELP for help.

Sherlock went ballistic as he texted back.

Alright! What is wrong with you? STOP. TEXTING. ME. I will hunt you down and take off your thumbs if you don't stop. John confiscated my thumbs because I set his bed on fire. He just doesn't understand that it's an experiment. Stop being so thick. Stop texting me.

Sherlock glared at the phone in his hand. He was breathing heavily due to the angry pacing he was doing whilst writing the text. It was then that he realised that in his fit of anger he forgot to add -SH at the end of his message. His phone vibrated twice this time. Both relayed the last message from rebox. Sherlock yelled at the top of his lungs as he typed.

STOP

He pressed send and was immediately greeted by another text from Redbox.

Ur now unsubscribed from Redbox marketing alerts & will no longer receive messages or chrgs, sorry to see you go. More at /727272.

Upon seeing this Sherlock promptly threw his phone across the room, narrowly missing John as he entered their flat with a Tesco bag in hand.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here? I heard you downstairs and thought you were in trouble. Are you okay?" John put the bag down by the door and ran over to Sherlock who stood shaking in the middle of the room.

"JOHN WE ARE NEVER. I REPEAT, NEVER GOING TO GET A MOVIE FROM REDBOX AGAIN." John stood next to Sherlock completely baffled. Pent up with anger, Shelock kicked the couch and grabbed the union Jack pillow which had found its way to John's chair. He yelled into it letting out his stress and anger. John walked over to the phone and proceeded to read the conversation which took place while he was shopping. He read and re-read it. When he was done, he looked up at Sherlock who was staring angrily at the phone. In that moment he burst into laughter.

"OH GOD SHERLOCK! AND I THOUGHT I WAS BAD. YOU CAN NOT HOLD HAVING A ROW WITH A CHIP AND PIN MACHINE OVER ME ANYMORE!" He clutched his stomach as another fit of laughter hit him.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock stood up and snatched the phone from John's hand. "This person is an imbecile. All they do is retort the same exact thing every time and its frustrating!" John got very serious as Sherlock spoke but couldn't help it and burst out into laughter again.

"What's so funny John? This is many things. It's annoying. No. far more than annoying. It's terrible, it's repetitious, it's extremely dull and it's annoying me to no end. I don't see how this can possibly be in any way funny." John sighed as he wiped the tears that began to form in his eyes.

"Oh Sherlock. There's no person on the other end. It's an automated answering service that only responds to certain words. If it sees anything else, it will relay that message that seems to be here...quite a lot." Realization dawned on Sherlock's face. He eyes went wide and his flushed in embarrassment. He turned walked to his room in a briskly pace speaking behind him the whole time

. "Right well now that's settled. Lestrade said he has a new case for me. Triple homicide. The bodies are at Barts. Put the groceries away and be ready. I'll be down in 5 minutes then we're off. He shut the door behind him and John smiled. He picked up the Tesco bag and began to out away the groceries. In exactly 5 minutes Sherlock was out of his room and impeccably dressed. He had his purple button down shirt on and tight black trousers. He grabbed his scarf, folded it, and tossed it around his neck, pulling one end through the hoop end. He put on his coat and turned up the collar as he always does.

"Ready?" John looked him and smiled.

"Always. You know that your little incident is going on my blog right?" Sherlock quietly growled.

"I don't think that's really necessary." John chuckled as they walked out into the brisk London streets. Sherlock hailed a cab.

"Fine I won't put it on but you have to promise me that you won't delete it." Sherlock smiled thinly. "Never."

A cab quickly pulled up. The Consulting Detective and The Blogger stepped in and continued on to the their adventure together. All of which will never be deleted no matter how small.