My first Sherlock fic And I am pretty proud of it.
Name: Anderson ruins everyone's fun.
Author: Mrs-Moriarty
Rating: 13+ (Adult themes but you don't see anything but still not suitable for the kiddiewinks)
Summary: Why does Anderson have to spoil everything for everyone?
Disclaimer: Sherlock (BBC) and all its characters don't belong to me. Neither does Benedict and Martin but I wish they did 3
Anyway hope you enjoy
Anderson really doesn't like Sherlock. Never has, never will. So how could he miss the chance to mess with Sherlock even more by picking away at him slowly into submission? He was of course very pleased when Lestrade suggested a drugs bust at the freaks house. Anderson volunteered. Oh he was going to have so much fun tonight, it's like Christmas came early.
At the moment, he was searching in the packed out kitchen along with a few other members of Scotland Yard, until Sherlock blew a massive hissy fit at Lestrade for setting up a drugs bust just to 'bully him'. But Anderson was desperate to find something recreational in this house, just so he can have the pleasure of seeing Sherlock carried off and locked away in a cell where he belongs.
There are prisons for a reason, and it's for keeping psychopaths ('High functioning sociopath' as Sherlock had corrected him, it's the same thing anyway) like him away from inflicting damage on society.
Sherlock clenching his fists so hard, his knuckles turned an even paler white and his fingernails punctured the skin of his palms. Still glaring at Lestrade angrily as the people around him scuttled along, following orders.
What morons, there all stupid, the lot of them.
Watson moved closer by his side. Sherlock, feeling his warm radiating heat, relaxed a little, letting his hands drop and turned to face his flatmate who was staying particularly calm in this situation. John flickered Sherlock a smile, and all the anger in him seemed to fade. Sherlock gave John a smirk back and raised him eyebrows in the 'I got an idea that may involve you and a lot of danger' way that he always gave when they were on the start of a particularly hard case.
Sherlock cleared his throat, grabbing the inspector's attention.
"If you would please excuse me, I have a very important experiment I need to carry out, upstairs. Right. Now." He spoke in a more calming, maybe even a bit exaggerated.
"I will be needing your assistance though John if you don't mind." Turning back to the doctor, who was giving him a quizzical look.
Then his brain clicked. Oh.
"Oh yeah, of course, very important." John replied with a hint of sarcasm.
Lestrade, who was draped lazily over one of the armchair, stood up to the height of Sherlock and sharpened his gaze.
"If you must." Lestrade dismissed the two of his presence as they hurried upstairs with loud clumping footsteps.
It had been a couple of minutes since the 'partners in crime' had disappeared upstairs, they were still searching and Lestrade was getting tired of Sherlock's silly games.
He heard the muffled sound of running water and the shower doors colliding with each other coming from upstairs.
This was no time for fooling about, he better be finished soon with his experiment (or whatever he was doing) or he was going to get very impatient.
Another three minutes later, he heard the obscure sounds of voices; he wasn't able to make out any words, but their tones were worn and he had picked out a lot of moaning and heavy breathing.
A loud whimpering cry, which he recognised as Watson's, reverberated through the room.
Poor John, Lestrade thought to himself, whatever's happening up there, its not doing him any favours. Maybe he should intervene, but he was sure they knew what they were doing.
Anderson had stopped searching at this point and looked disgustingly at the ceiling where the sounds were being heard. They couldn't be…could they? A sickening feeling, pooled in the pit of his stomach. Everyone else was unaware to what was happening except him. He felt very proud of himself for that split second.
The unusual noises had been carrying on for ten minutes now and the drug squad were still busy below. Lestrade was getting sick of waiting; he was a very impatient man.
He got out of the arm he had comfortably set himself into and was about to walk upstairs when he stopped mid-step at the development of the sounds coming from above.
The voices were now joined by a steady rhythmic hammering that vibrated throughout the whole building and into the floor.
For Anderson, this confirmed his fears but was surprised to see Lestrade still looking clueless at the ceiling. The noises became louder and the rhythm of the hammering rose in tempo.
Oh my GOD! Anderson thought, covering his face with his hand in shame. Anderson was about to lose his mind!
This had to stop!
"Are you blind!" Anderson alleged angrily, this caught Lestrades attention. Still clueless.
He huffed and stomped his way into the kitchen and toward the sink, the DI followed behind, intrigued. Anderson turned to the inspector and while raising one eyebrow, he reached for the cold water handle and slowly turned it to full blast. Water shot out violently from the tap, covering the surrounding sink in a fine film of water.
It was only seconds later that his plan had taken action. The two distinct shouts of Sherlock and John were heard coming from the room above, Lestrade twisted his head toward the noise.
"AHH, COLD!"
The inspector turned his head back to Anderson who was supporting a proud smile.
"I told you so." He said smugly
Why did Anderson have to ruin everyone's fun?
A/N: Had lots of fun writing this, I have a lot of revision to do which leaves me little time to write. Anyways, everyone who comments and reviews gets a free virtual hug!