"SHERLOCK! WHY ARE THERE TOES IN THE CHEESE DRAWER!? I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU TO LEAVE MY CHEESES ALONE!"
To say that John Watson was pissed would be like saying that Sherlock Holmes can be a bit of a nuisance. The worst of each other my arse. An unintelligible shout came from the living room setting off warning bells in John's brain. What the hell is he up to now?
"-amn machine!" Sherlock, or a wire covered likeness of him, was sitting on the couch next to what looked like the mangled remains of John's laptop. "I do not like Mycroft and have no intention of following through in such an abhorrent plan."
No sooner had the gangly man uttered the vehement sentence than a rather loud beep sounded out of the machine. Utterly bewildered, John stepped through the doorway before his flat mate could start shouting more abuse at the… whatever it was.
"Sherlock," he began in a strained tone, "Is that my laptop?"
"John, impeccable timing, you can help me get out of these wires."
"Sherlock."
"What is it John, don't be dull."
"Is that my laptop?"
"What? No, it's a truth detector."
"Made out of my laptop."
"Yes." Well at least that explained the beeping.
"And why did you make my laptop into a truth detector?"
"The current ones are so easy to trick, if I hadn't been around do you realize how simple it would have been fo-"
"No," John cut him off and reached up to rub his temples "why did you make my laptop into a truth detector. You could have mutilated your own."
"Yours was closer." The loud machine behind him belayed his words.
"Oh, really?" a smirk played at the edges of johns lips.
"Yes, really," the consulting detective sniped back, "the ruddy machine has a
glitch."
Beeeep.
"Somehow I really doubt that." John was already hatching a plan to leave him in there indefinitely as punishment for the laptop… and the toes.
"Oh please, stop being so dramatic."
He raised an eyebrow at that, "I'm dramatic?"
"Just help get me out of these wires."
"I don't think I will."
"Jooohn-"The great child sounded like he was about to start bloody whining!
"No, no you don't" He interjected, "Why did you really use my laptop?
There was a pause then a crackle and Sherlock jumping slightly and wincing as if in pain.
"What was that?" John asked with slight concern.
"A program I added that would shock the person being interviewed if they refused to answer a question."
John just started at him for a moment, how could someone so intelligent get himself into such a strange trap? "And you thought it was a good idea to try it on yourself?"
"I thought about trying it on you."
The silence was deafening… well then, might as well take advantage of this.
"And why did you really use my laptop?"
"John, is this rea-"
"Yes, why did you use my laptop?"
"Well I wasn't going to ruin mine, now was I?" He huffed. "Now will you please get me out of here."
"Not yet." John smirks. "What exactly is your rivalry you and Mycroft?"
Sherlock rolls his eyes, "This is childish."
John simply raises his eyebrows.
"We're brothers John. He feels neglected, I hated his shadow, we simply choose to show off rather than pull hair."
John thinks on that for a moment before plowing on. "Were you in love with the woman?"
The pile of wire starts and John thinks he can just make out a widening of icy eyes. "No…" There is no beep.
"Then why did you save her?"
"Sentiment."
"Sentiment?"
"Yes."
"But not love. Lust, then?" The ex-soldier tries to search for a reason that would make sense to him.
"No." Sherlock huffs, "are you done yet?"
"Have you ever been in love then?"
The pile shifts uncomfortably, "Is this really necessary, John?"
"Sher-"
"Yes, yes I have. Are you satisfied?"
The pang in John's chest is both unexpected and unwelcome.
"Have I met her?"
Sherlock waits too long to answer and the machine shocks him again. John is about to answer but Sherlock answers before he can.
"I would imagine that you know them quite intimately." He mutters so quietly that at first John isn't sure he actually heard him.
John stands still for a moment, thinking, who could Sherlock fallen in love with. Certainly not Molly, she'd bore him too quickly, and he seriously doubted that Sherlock gave any of his exes a second glance. The pain in his chest was getting close to unbearable, he should probably have that checked out.
"Is it a man, then?"
"Yes." Damn his chest.
"So, cheating on your work?"
"Well, he is actually a rather big part of it."
Neither of them can look the other in the eye. John in something that feels too close to disappointment for his liking and Sherlock in whatever drives Sherlock to avoid someone's eyes. A man involved in his work? Maybe Greg. After all John knew him pretty well since they stared their weekly pub visits and he is definitely part of his work with the police. And he is most definitely involved in Sherlock's work… Heck, he's the one who gives him the work!
"How do I get you out of those wires?" He asks awkwardly.
Sherlock studies him for a moment and begins instructing him on the best way to allow escape without ruining the device. It takes forty minutes, two tea brakes, and a plethora of curses but eventually John and Sherlock are resting on the couch next to each other.
"I do hope that my confession won't change anything between us." Sherlock finally breaks the silence.
"I don't know why it would." He replies more tersely than he meant to.
"Well, it does tend to happen when one is confessed to."
"Sherlock, you're my frie-" He begins to spout of platitudes before Sherlock's words catch up to him. "Hang on, confessed to?" He asks dumbly.
The madman beside him shifts to look at him slowly, "Who else could I possibly have been talking about?" he asks, sounding completely flabbergasted that John could have so completely missed the point of his questioning.
"Well, I mean, Greg fit the criteria."
Both men stared at each other in mutual astonishment.
"Then your disappointment wasn't because I had feelings for you that you couldn't return due to some delusion of heterosexuality?" Sherlock finally burst out and John couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"No, you silly git, and what do you mean delusions of heterosexuality?"
"Oh, please, it's quite obvious that you are bisexual at the least and had never branched out due to tradition and childhood morals."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes."
"And you are ok with the sentimentality of all this."
"Not at all, but it's hardly in my control at this point now is it?"
"I suppose not." He replied with a goofy smile. "Now about those toes, they really have to go."
"Absolutely not! I am trying to find out the effect of certain bacteria on the decomposition of human flesh."
"In my cheese drawer!"
"I require certain conditions to work with."
"My cheese, Sherlock!"
They continued bickering for some time, and in some ways everything was the same and yet completely different. Later, when John was trying to fall asleep to the wailing of Sherlock's "thinking instrument" as he had so dubbed the violin, he thought over the afternoon and noticed that he couldn't stop smiling.