Day 8 : " No that's impossible how the fuck did you manage to get it to catch fire?!" Firefighter!AU

Own Nothing

"How the fuck did you manage to get it to catch fire?" Darcy shouted as she raced through the apartment to grab the fire extinguisher from underneath the sink and raced back to the living room to spray down the fire. "What the actual fuck man?"

"I was working on that." He stated as he glared at the smoke.

"The fuck you are!" She screamed at her as they smoke wafted up to the ceiling and set off her smoke alarm. "You suck." She glared at him as she tossed the Extinguisher on the floor and grabbed a broom to knock the alarm off. She turned it off finally and turned to glare at her temporary roommate. The papers and scientific supplies behind him covered in foam from the extinguisher. She sighed and walked back to the kitchen to grab a beer. "How long are you dead again?"

He frowned at her from the living room, he couldn't see her anymore because of the wall separating them, but he could tell by her voice that she wasn't happy. "I was under the impression you didn't mind that I was here. You quite like staring at me, preferably without my shirt, judging by the way you blush when I get out of the shower in the mornings."

"Sherlly." Darcy sighed.

"Don't call me that."

Darcy took a drink of her beer to bite back the need to just call him that again. "Sherlock." She started before taking another drink. She stepped into the living room and leaned against the doorway. "I like having you here, it's like old times. But." She stopped and finished off her beer and turned away.

"Finish what you were going to say Darcy." He narrowed his eyes at her. He could pick her apart easier than anyone else. Lives alone, well, no. She lives with him now, for now. She doesn't have any animals, works over 60+ hours a week, hasn't been a date in months. He frowned at that. "Are you upset because you think I'm keeping you from meeting someone?"

She snorted. "We're not psychoanalyzing me." She turned into the kitchen and tossed her beer away and grabbed her purse. "Don't burn the house down." She opened and slammed the door behind her.

"I cannot believe your brother sometimes." Darcy groaned as she sat next to Mycroft in a scarcely lit bar.

"Yes, he does have a way with people." He agreed with her.

"Don't patronize me Mycroft." Darcy sighed. "When you guys said you needed a favor, I did not think it was rooming with Sherlock again. Nor would I ever imagine putting out fires every other day." She sipped her drink and set it back down.

"But he is right, he is keeping you from meeting someone." Mycroft stated as he took a drink of his own beer.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Let me just bring someone back to my place where I am hiding a dead man. So he could A, find out about him and ruin Sherlly's plans. Or B, have Sherlly psychoanalyze the poor man and I'll never get laid." She took a big gulp of her beer then.

Mycroft watched her for a moment before speaking. "He could just be trying to get your attention. My brother, he could be so childish sometimes." He smiled at that.

Darcy stopped in mid-drink and looked at Mycroft from the corner of her eye and sighed. "Mycroft." She set her beer down and stood up from the bar. "I hate you sometimes." She paid for both of their drinks and kissed his cheek. "Fly back safe."

"And I'd up your home insurance my dear." He told her. "Especially the fire, where my is concerned."

She rolled her eyes and walked out of the bar and took a cab back home. She unlocked the front door when she walked into her building and up the flight of stairs. "Sherlly!" Darcy called out as she unlocked her door into her apartment and closed it behind her. She smelt smoke and frown. "Fuck." She dropped her purse and raced into the kitchen for the extinguisher but remembered that it was in the living room. She blinked and came to a stop when she saw Sherlock standing there in front of the stove cooking. "What are you doing?" She asked slowly, as if not to disturb a wild creature.

He rolled his eyes at her. "I'm making you dinner."

"It's eleven at night."

He looked at the time then back at her. "Are you hungry?"

She shrugged and walked over to him to look at the burnt food. "What is it?"

He glared at her and sniffed. "Did you enjoy drinks with Mycroft?"

"He wants me to up my home insurance, especially fire." She smiled up at him.

"There was only three fires since I've been here, hardly seems necessary." Sherlock stated.

"Yea you're…" She stopped. "What do you mean three fires?" She glared up at him.

"Do you want to order Chinese?" He asked her trying to change the subject. "This is inedible."

"Sherlly!" She shouted. "What else did you catch on fire?"