A/N: Another 221b. Because if you've handled as many guns and heard as many gun safety lectures as I have, you'd want to slap Sherlock too. Seriously, there're some kind-of-important brains inside that head of his. And, also, really, where is John getting his ammo from? They seem to have an endless supply. Mycroft, maybe?

S A F E T Y * O F F

Sherlock was brilliant, most of the time. In any subject related to crime, Sherlock had encyclopedic knowledge stored away. In most areas of athletic skill, Sherlock excelled. John had witnessed him succeed at parkour, fencing, hand-to-hand combat, and even ice skating. He frequently caught things out of mid-air without looking, and John had never once seen him throw something and miss. Even with John's pistol, his aim was flawless.

That didn't mean he wasn't an idiot.

With the threat of Moriarty looming, John found himself carrying his pistol on a nearly daily basis. This had the benefit of keeping Sherlock from playing with it whenever he got bored. (Honestly, ammunition wasn't easy to come by. Unless Sherlock stopped wasting bullets on the walls, he wouldn't have any left for criminals!) John wasn't bothered by carrying a loaded weapon in populated areas. He knew his Browning well, and he was almost more relaxed with the familiar one kilogram weight tucked into the back of his pants. Sherlock, however, really couldn't be trusted with a weapon. The idiot had apparently deleted everything on gun safety.

"Now, Sherlock, the first thing to keep in mind when handling a gun is to always assume it's loaded. Even if you know it's empty, you should never do something like, say, scratching your head with the barrel…"