"The Big Switch-a-roo."
Chapter 1
"It all started with a bet..."
It all started on a typical normal day of one crime fighting dynamic duo, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, in a typical normal everyday fashion.
The tall dark haired detective was laying slouched on his couch having a silent conversation with his skull about god knows what, Ms. Hudson was upstairs watching a soap-opera that Sherlock spoiled for her a week ago, and the good doctor was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to finally sing the 'Aria of boiled water'.
Or, in other words, the day was progressing fairly normally until Sherlock got bored.
"Bored!" He lamented, wherever it was to Skully or John is up to interpretation, while glaring at the sealing.
"Read a book!" John called back to his flat-mate, the tone of his voice betraying his annoyance at the detective's childish actions.
To his surprise he can actually hear Sherlock get up, stomp over to the bookshelf and pull out one of the think tomes of dictionaries that he had stuffed there.
He must be really bored then. The army doctor thought to himself just as the kettle decided the water was hot enough for tea. Not a minute later, the book the younger Holmes tried to read, smacked against the wall with a loud 'thud', making John spill a bit of the hot liquid over his fingers.
"Boring!" He bellowed this time, repeating his stomping cycle back to the couch and dropping into it like a sack of potatoes, which is actually quite amazing considering his nearly non-existent weight.
"Then get a real job!" John hissed glaring at the wall that separated him from his best friend, while also rubbing the burning sensation away with his left hand. "And pick up that book!"
"As a what? A waiter?" The overgrown, infuriating yet brilliant, toddler had the nerve to ask while deliberately ignoring the order to clean up the mess he made.
"At least it would have a steady income and a schedule which would limit your 'I'm-so-bored' time." The blogger muttered under his breath as he placed the two cup on a tray, and began carrying it over to the living room. "Unlike what you're doing now."
Sherlock snorted at that.
"Forgive me for being dependent on the creativity of modern day criminals, John." He added sarcastically, glaring at the blond doctor from his spot on the couch. "Maybe I should send a 'please-use-your-brain-more-while-you-murder-and-steal' cards to all the local crime bosses, to up the level of their competence?"
His companion reacted with placing the tray on the tea-table with a bit more force than necessary.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, oh-so-great-Holmes, but, the way I see it, you wouldn't have such a problem, if you weren't so unbelievingly picky about the cases you've been taking!" Clearly Watson has had enough of being the only grown-up in this apartment that brings regular paychecks.
"If I wasn't picky, as you call it, we would be stuck chasing purse-stealers and finding lost puppies in dark alleys." Sherlock deadpans.
"Okay, fine!" John threw his hands up in frustration. "Maybe taking every single case the Yard could offer wasn't such a good idea, I'll grant you that." He then poked his finger in the detective's bony chest. "But that doesn't mean you can stop searching for a different job to work in between cases!"
"And what, pray tell, would your perfect job for me be, then?" Sharp blue eyes glared at the smaller man from between chocolate locks. "Go ahead." He challenged. "List them out for me, I dare you."
John huffed, his face reddening.
"Oh I'm sure there is a multitude of other things you could be doing." The doctor snarled back. "Like, why don't you go working for the government like your brother?"
Another snort escaped Sherly's mouth.
"As a pencil-pusher?" He looked at John with a disgusted look on his face. "I'd die of boredom the minute I'd walk through the doorframes of my office."
"Mycroft works for the Government." Watson repeated himself through gritted teeth. "And he's just as, if not more so, smart as you are." The blond surgeon actually grinned seeing the detective's eyes narrow at the mention of his sibling. "We saw him just yesterday, Sherlock and he didn't look dead to me."
The younger Holmes snarled and turned away.
"I'm not as boring as Mycroft is." He muttered in Skully's direction. "As he allows himself to be."
"No." John shook his head. "You're just not as mature as he is." He then fixated his blue eyes challengingly at the back of his flat-mate's head. "It's not the fact that his job is boring or uninteresting, that keeps you away from it, Sherlock. It's because it involves rules, schedules and consequences, things you never lived by nor respected, that you won't even touch it with a stick, if you had the choice. No." The doctor said sternly and Sherlock's mouth snapped shut, cutting of anything he was about to say in his own defense. "Don't try to say that your actions have actual cocequences, Sherlock, because we both know that Mycroft takes care of those as well, along with your half of the rent and all the damage control."
Seeing that he now had Sherlock's full attention, he took a deep breath before saying:
"And I am willing to bet that you wouldn't last a month, if you swapped places with him."
Silence rang through the apparent.
It lasted a whole minute before the younger of the Holmes siblings suddenly got up, grabbed John's phone that laid on the coffee table, and retreated to the kitchen, probably to make a phone call to a certain Civil Servant.
Noticing that, so far everything has been going according the plan, the army doctor allowed his tense body to rest on his armchair, silently rejoicing at his victory.
It wasn't until he caught the words 'Can you switch jobs with me, brother-dear?' that he realized that, perhaps he didn't think this plan through…
AN: Hi! It's me again, with another 'Sherlock' story! :D Fans of 'Catcroft' and 'Coming of the Ice King' shouldn't worry, chapters to those respective stories are being polished and shouldn't take long ;). This idea just wouldn't let me focus on anything unless I write it down *sights* being me is hard -_-