Crushed
Disclaimer - For my entertainment only, I don't own them.
Summary - Of all the ridiculous games.
A/N - It's midnight, I'm tired, and it's all Forensiphile's fault.
She was doing it again. Right in front of him. Just laying on the couch, carrying on with it as if she didn't know it drove him crazy.
"Watson, I beg of you. Will you please put that away? I'm trying to discuss this case with you." He was sitting across the room in a chair, bent at the waist, staring at her with an almost hurt expression. She didn't see it. She didn't see anything but what was right in front of her.
"Hm?" She didn't even look up. "Hang on, Sherlock, I'm almost finished." She lied. He could always tell when she was lying. He could always tell when anybody was lying.
"You do realize that I know you're not telling the truth, right? WATSON! Look at me!" He was getting angry, this was the worst it had ever been.
"Sheesh, Sherlock, I'm right here...no need to yell." She finally looked up at him, if only for a second. "I just have to clear away two more jellies and then I'll be ready to help." Nonsensical.
Standing, he dropped the case files he was holding loudly on the floor.
"This has gone on long enough, Watson. You will hand over that phone or I will take it from you." He said it so forcefully that she finally took her eyes off the screen long enough to take note of his posture and expression.
"You can't be serious, Sherlock. It's just a game!" She laughed as she spoke, clearly trying to convince herself just as much she was him.
"Yes, well, you've done nothing but play this 'game' for three days straight! Clyde misses you; I had to clean his terrarium by myself yesterday." He sounded almost hurt.
"Now hand me your phone, Watson." He took a step toward her, arm extended. She reacted to this movement by curling up into the fetal position, arms tucked into her stomach with her phone clutched tightly in her right hand.
"I don't try to take away your locks!" She said, shocked at his persistence.
"That is not at all the same thing and you know it. This is an addiction, Watson, and as a Sober Companion, albeit a former one, you should know the consequences of such. This is not healthy and I will not permit it to continue under my roof." Watson didn't like that he was making a good point, or that he was threatening her.
He took another step forward, she jumped off the couch and took off toward the stairs, phone still clutched tightly in her hand. He rolled his eyes and took off after her.
"Sherlock, I am an adult and this is just a game. It's not hurting anybody and I'm almost finished with the last level anyway." She reasoned from the bottom step, her left foot reaching behind her for the next step, in case he decided to make a move toward her.
"That is exactly what an addict would say! I should know. There are always going to be more levels, Watson, you are never going to truly 'Crush' the candy. It will crush you, in the end. Now, hand me your phone." He pleaded, real concern mixed with a slightly playful tone.
"No." And with that, Watson attempted to jump up the stairs backwards right when Sherlock took a step towards her; she fell, he tripped over her now flailing legs, and they both fell up the stairs; Sherlock caught himself with his hands on either side of Watson's waist, her back on the stairs, phone dropped and forgotten.
"I'm quite certain we can find something far more entertaining than crushing a few pieces of candy to occupy our time." His proximity made it impossible to disagree.
-fin