This is based on Alice in Wonderland, but more modern.
Give this story a chance and review please.
Spoilers for all episodes, but The reichenbach fall
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The three shots fired out in the apartment of 221b Baker Street at around ten o'clock on a Sunday night in January. Despite the cold outside, it was nice, warm and snug inside. The world was calm and peaceful. This was the very reason the great consulting detective was firing at the wall. 'Calm' and 'peaceful' was considered 'dull' and boring'.
This is where our story begins, on that cold Sunday night in January at around ten o'clock, and it all starts with a bloody headache...
John groaned in protest as the shots rang out. Lying flat on his back in his bedroom his headache worsened at the loud noises. Could his flatmate give him a nigh off, just once? No, he couldn't.
The army doctor heaved himself off his bed and staggered towards his door. Opening it, he then leaned his head against the doorframe as he heard his friend saying 'bored' repeatedly. John walked down the stairs and into the living room just after another three shots rang out.
"Can you please stop shooting the bloody wall Sherlock?" John shouted, snatching the gun out of the detective's hand. Sherlock, who had been enjoying himself shooting at a picture of his brother – Mycroft – now stood on the table gun-less. He was in his pyjamas and wearing his blue dressing gown and was bare footed.
"I wasn't bored whilst I was shooting Mycroft," Sherlock said plainly, giving his flatmate a small glare before picking up his violin. John winced as a soft melody filled the air.
"No! Put it down," John shouted, snatching the precious instrument and placing it on the table. "Shouldn't you be working on a case?" John snapped – he really wasn't in a good mood.
"I'm taking a break... Like you said too. Anyhow, it's a four patch problem and you've taken my nicotine patches away, remember!" Sherlock shouted back. Clearly, he was frustrated about the fact that he couldn't figure out his case.
One frustrated Sherlock, one annoyed John...
One recipe for disaster.
"Well sorry for trying to stop you from damaging yourself!" John snapped.
"I don't need you to stop me from hurting myself... You're worse than Mycroft when we were both younger," Sherlock grumbled under his breath. He dramatically flopped onto the sofa. He curled up into a ball and faced the back of the sofa. John wasted no time in grabbing his coat from the armchair and putting it on.
"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked, looking over his shoulder and watching John walk out the room.
"Getting some air. I've got a bloody headache," he shouted back at his flatmate as he slammed the front door shut.
John made his way down the empty street. He'd been walking for nearly five minutes now and was desperately trying to keep what warmth he had inside him. He clung to himself, teeth chattering. He should have wrapped up.
Then magically, but unluckily for John, it began to snow.
The army doctor cursed as the white flakes began to fall. His head had become worse, turning from a headache to a migraine. As he looked up, he stopped. Sighing, he started to walk towards the figure up ahead.
Anthea – or so he had been told that was her name – was standing just up the street. She was always very annoying and always texting on her mobile. What does Mycroft want now? John thought as he walked towards her. Anthea always collected him when that man needed him for something.
However, as John drew closer, he noticed that she wasn't wearing... 'Normal' clothes. Stopping, he rubbed his eyes just to make sure he wasn't seeing thins. On her feet she had white high heel shoes and thin white leggings covered her tights. She also wore a white leotard, but with a soft fluffy looking skirt. However, none of this seemed too out of the ordinary, compared to what was on her head. What was upon her head, were rabbit ears. It was crazy, but, they actually looked as if they were part of her.
She turned and smiled at him.
"Time to leave,
Fall down the hole,
On this cold eve,
To help the Hatter,
Save the White Queen,
You may not been keen,
Nevertheless, no one ever is, when it comes to the Mad Hatter..."She shouted down the street to him. Before John could say a word, she turned round and jogged down the alleyway that she had been standing by. Regardless of how bad his head had now become, John ran after her. He tried not to skid on the snow that was quickly layering on the ground.
Looking down the alleyway in bewilderment, he saw Anthea giggle and tap her wrist twice – telling him to be careful of the time – just before she hopped into a Taylor wheelie bin. She left the lid open. John jogged after her.
However, very comically, John slipped on something and went head first into the bin. He didn't hit the bottom of the bin though; he just kept on falling...
What do we all think?
In the next chapter: John falls and has to drink the wine and take a pill.
Review please!