Hello everyone!
As I've already wrote, this is my first and hopefully not last attempt to write a fan fiction,
so please be not surprised if this is a whole lot of crap…because it most certainly is.
Anyway, I hope you won't be totally bored and I'm happy about every review I get.
So enjoy (at least I hope you will) and write a review!
No, really, I mean it, write a review!
REVIEW!
Okay, I'm sounding totally creepy…forget all you read until now and just continue reading like this story wrote an absolutely normal human being…and review!
Alright, I'll just stop now, because this IS insane.
My
"BOOM" Cursing I turned on my back and blinked groggily in the morning sun.
"There we go again" was the first thing I thought as I finally managed to open my eyes completely, knowing that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until I checked on the brilliant madman downstairs, who probably blew up our whole kitchen. Again.
I let out a deep yawn and swung myself out of the cosy, warm bed where I had slept peacefully a few minutes ago, shivering as my bare feet touched the cold wooden floor.
Bleary I shoved on some thick woollen socks and snatched a navy-blue jumper from my wardrobe. I didn't bother to change my long sleeved pyjama trousers with my usually worn jeans because this way it was far more comfortable.
Massaging my bad shoulder I tapped down the stairs into the living room.
Instantly I realised that dark green smoke wafted out of the kitchen, smelling like rotten eggs mixed up with aftershave and olive oil. Not a very appealing scent.
Unbelievingly I glanced around and spotted the cause of this complete disaster, my flatmate, who stood beaming a few feet away from the doorway between kitchen and living room, looking at the smoke the way a mother would at her new born son.
"Sherlock" I growled and eyed the man frustrated, but my friend ignored me completely and continued to mumble chemical formals. Suddenly he shouted out a delighted "Of course!" and quickly made his way back into the kitchen, disappearing in a growing green cloud of chemicals.
I didn't even want to know how unhealthy this stupid fog was and instantly followed the crazy scientist to prevent him from destroying his body any further.
Shortly after I stepped into the other room I saw absolutely nothing but green and the smell was so intensive that I had to stop myself from throwing up. Blindly I stretched my arms in front of me and searched after the world's greatest smartarse, who was still murmuring in the depths of the smoke.
Somehow I managed to find the dark silhouette, grabbed roughly his two upper arms from behind and dragged the surprised detective with me in the living room.
"John!" he snarled angrily and fought against my hands which were still pulling him through the room until I shoved him down on the sofa.
Of course Sherlock didn't give up yet and started to get up again but I swiftly pushed the struggling man back on the cushions.
"Stop it, you won't go in there until the last bit of smoke has vanished" I said calmly, watching as the pale face twisted with annoyance.
"Don't be ridiculous John I have to finish my exper…"
"I really couldn't care less. You forget your experiment and you'll help me to open our totally snowy and frozen window so we can breathe air, how our species is supposed to do, instead of those nasty chemicals of yours"
"Really John you are totally overrea…"
"Sherlock"
My voice was deep, strict and absolutely merciless. Right then I wasn't John the blogger, I was Captain John Watson. And Captain John Watson didn't tolerate any contradiction.
"But…"
"Sherlock"
The light grey eyes stared at me deadly, making it clear that he would happily kill me right now, but at least his mouth stayed shut.
I surveyed the genius who represented my best friend, his helplessly messed, dark hair, his perfectly white skin, the beautiful high cheekbones and of course his eyes, in which there was always a sparkle of intelligence, even yet, as he looked at me with one of his various murdering glares.
I really tried not to grin but it was of no use. A big, warm smile spread over my face and my heart rate increased while a warm feeling washed over my chest.
But to defend myself, Sherlock really looked incredibly adorable right now.
The man himself still looked at me angrily and annoyed, but his features softened a tiny little bit and he frowned lightly, a sign that he was frustrated because he wasn't able to figure something out.
If our flat would be full of people, I would most certainly be the only one to see the shifting in the detective's behaviour, and this thought let my stupid smile grow even wider.
"Come on, Mr-I'm-oh-so-smart. Help me with that bloody window" I sighed and before I could prevent it, offered him my hand.
Sherlock's gaze flickered between my face and my fingers, back and forth, until he surprised me by laying his own hand slowly in mine, seemingly a little bit shocked about this himself.
Blinking I pulled him up to his feet, relishing the tingling sensation of our skin to skin contact. After he stood in front of me, the brunette quickly pulled his hand away like he was burned and went to the window which was completely covered in snow.
I needed a few seconds to think clearly again and then helped my friend with pushing the stupid thing open, causing a little avalanche to fall down on baker street, and a couple of startled passengers cried out. I shouted a short apology, deeply inhaling the clear, fresh December air.
Behind me I could hear my flatmate stomping around and shortly after that the sound of a masterly played violin washed through our flat while green smoke slowly made his way out of the open window. I closed my eyes and sighed contently, enjoying the music and the presence of the man who managed to produce this unbelievingly calmly melody.
Exactly one hour later the air was cleaned of all kinds of chemicals, the window was closed again and a cosy fire cracked happily in the fire place. I sat in my arm chair, reading and drinking a hot cup of tea and Sherlock bustled around in the kitchen, conducting his next experiment, as suddenly the doorbell rang.
I looked up and met the others eyes, we shared an exciting grin and as fast as human possible Sherlock stormed downstairs to let our new client come in. Contently I closed my book and got up to put the cattle on, making our new guest a nice cuppa.
As I came back into the living room Sherlock already paced in front of the sofa where a blond woman sat. A young woman. A young, attractive woman with long, blonde hair, huge blue eyes and an incredibly short dress which didn't leave much room for imagination. She cried and sniffed heartbreakingly while telling the concentrated detective of her vanished brother.
I went to her with a sympathetic, warm smile, kneeled down and placed carefully the tea in her manicured hands. Simply then I realised that she stopped talking. Frowning I looked up, just to back away a little because of her closeness. She stared at me with so much fascination and hunger; I kept my gaze on the floor because it was this uncomfortable.
"What, then? Hurry up, you're boring me alr…"
Sherlock stopped in the mid of the sentence and his pacing stilled in an instant. I looked up from my shoes and watched my flatmate who stared at the blonde with slightly narrowed eyes.
I decided that this would be a perfect moment to stand up and finish my own cup of tea, but as I came to my feet a thin hand sneaked around my wrist and hold me back.
"Ahm…" I said startled and tried to get myself out of her grip, but she didn't react.
"Please stay with me" she whispered at the edge of tears, and even if I knew I might curse myself for this later, I finally gave in and let the woman pull me next to her on the sofa.
Sherlock still hadn't moved an inch but his stare had shifted from her face down to her hand, which still clasped at me for dear life. I wasn't able to read his face which wore an expression I had never seen before. But one thing was sure; it wasn't a very friendly one.
"Continue" the baritone voice growled and the blonde did what she was asked but while explaining what happened, her hand wandered from my arm to my leg, where it stilled on the middle of my upper thigh.
I rolled my eyes, a little bit disgusted by her behaviour, and put her hand away to make a point. But she was having none of it.
"Oh, don't be so shy" she said teasingly and moved closer, so her and my side were tightly pressed together.
"Look…"
"Samantha"
She leaned in my personal space and I backed away.
"Samantha, I'm sorry but I'm not interested" I managed to say until she placed a finger over my lips, making herself comfortable on my shoulder.
Desperately I looked up to find some help in my friend, my eyes widening slightly at the sight which greeted me.
Sherlock looked…dangerous. His hands were balled into fists, his face was even paler that usual, his eyes, normally cold and uncaring, showed so much distain and hatred that it looked absolutely scary.
Shortly his gaze wavered to my pleading one and suddenly he was in front of me, bending down to Samantha and staring her in the face. I was surprised that she wasn't dead in an instant.
"Leave" the detective hissed, his voice low and warningly.
"Jealous?" she asked sweetly and winked. Actually winked at him.
Sherlock's nostrils blew wide in rage and I tried one last time to get away of this obviously mad woman, who gripped at me tighter, pressing her long nails deep in my bad shoulder.
I gritted my teeth as hot pain flashed through my whole left arm, swallowing down a suffering grown.
Sherlock felt the shift in my posture and turned his head to see if it was his fault that I tensed up this rapidly. But when our eyes met the detective stilled in his movements. His eyes became dark as his gaze flickered to my shoulder where Samantha's hand clangs into my jumper.
The next thing I felt was a disappearing weight from my side and the blonde let out a protesting screech as Sherlock dragged her carelessly down the stairs, slamming the door after he most probably threw her out on the street, accompanied with all kinds of insulting deductions. Then there was Silent.
I knew I was far too tense but just couldn't bring myself to relax. The throbbing pain in my shoulder was still there, causing unpleasant memories to come back. Memories of hot sand, blood, screams, death. I wasn't at 221b Baker Street anymore, I was in Afghanistan, watching my friend die next to me and then…
Then a long, skinny hand touched my cheek. The memory faded, instead there were two, grey-blue eyes which stared at me with an odd look, as if he was actually worried. This was of course a complete ridiculous thought, because the world's only consulting detective didn't worry about anyone. At least he told me this fact by every opportunity he got, scoffing like feelings were the worst and most dangerous illness in the whole universe. To him, they probably were.
"John"
I winced and blinked, pulling myself out of my muddled thoughts and back into reality, where Sherlock stood in front of me, holding out a cup with a hot, black liquid in it which smelled like my favourite earl grey. Well, maybe I was still dreaming.
Slowly I took the streaming mug and eyed it suspiciously. "What is this?"
Sherlock snorted and crossed his arms.
"Tea, of course, what else would it be?"
"Yeah but…"
I gesticulated helplessly and continued staring at my flatmate, whose eyebrows rose impatiently.
"But you never make tea" I finally burst out, not knowing what else to say.
"Obviously I do, so drink it before it gets cold" he spat, turned around and threw himself gracelessly on his armchair.
I hummed something unintelligently and started to sip the hot tea, trying to taste something else than the usual earl grey, some chemicals or some other strange things. Well, old habits die hard.
"John, I give you my word that there is nothing more in it but ordinary tea, with a little splash of milk so stop behaving like you could fall dead any second"
I bit my lip, ashamed about my lack of trust in my best friend but really, it wasn't entirely my fault. Quietly I drank my black tea and there and then shot short glances to the pale figure, which lay unmoving crosswise over his arm chair, totally lost in his thoughts.
After the last drop disappeared in my mouth I stood up, ignoring the pain which shot through my shoulder caused by the sudden movement, and strolled into the kitchen, placing my cup next to the sink.
Then I walked back through the doorway and sat down in my arm chair, facing Sherlock with a look of curiosity. A couple of minutes later, the man in question stirred, mirrored my position and turned his face toward me, frowning annoyed because of my stare.
"What" he snapped while tapping with his fingertips rapidly on the armrest. I raised an eye brow. Was he…nervous?
I shook my head and shifted a bit forward so my shoulder didn't touch the chair.
"Previously, what was that?"
"I don't know what you're talking about"
The brunette looked at me coldly but his increasing tapping gave him away. Sighing I rolled my eyes, pondering how I could explain myself without sounding too strange.
"Well, you behaved odd, somehow. I mean, even odder than usual. You stared at her like you wanted to throw her out of the window"
"That most certainly would have been fun" he muttered and my eyebrows shot up again. "WHAT John? There was absolutely nothing strange in the way I've acted, she was stupid so I got her to leave"
"Got her to leave?" I spluttered amused and Sherlock pulled a pout.
"You nearly dragged her out of the street"
"And?" he snapped, voice dripping with poison and anger.
"I just wanted to know why. Her case didn't sound too bad"
The sentence was spoken calmly but inside I grew more and more worried. This was definitely not normal Sherlock-behaviour.
"She was stupid, I already said that, keep up it's boring to repeat myself"
"But she didn't say any…"
"Don't play dumb John, it doesn't suit you"
Exhausted I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Look, I really have no idea what you're talking about"
"I know, so leave it" the man opposite me barked, eyes sparkling with frustration.
"No Sherlock, I won't leave it. Yes, she was a bit odd, and…"
"ODD?"
"…and intrusive but…"
" .SIVE?"
"…but her case was at least an eight so I don't see why…"
"A nine" he corrected and I blinked confused.
"What?"
"The case, it was a nine"
I shook my head, completely lost. "But why didn't you take it? You can't tell me it was because of her lack in intelligence"
"Of course not, don't be stupid"
"But…" I said, absolutely not understanding my incredibly madman. My? MY? Oh bugger, scratch that. NOW!
"Really John, do you HEAR what you are saying?"
"What?" I asked, confused, silently cursing myself for starting this absurd conversation.
"She practically undressed you with her eyes!"
I blinked and stared, not able to show a different reaction to this baffling statement.
"And?" I somehow managed to ask slowly, not sure if I had heard right.
"It was distracting"
Well, that was certainly not what I had expected. My mouth opened and closed like a dying fish while Sherlock stared furiously at my still hurting left shoulder.
"Sherlock…a-are you jealous?" I stuttered, not believing that these words were actually leaving my mouth.
The man in question scoffed but his tapping stilled.
"Why would I be that?"
"I don't know" I admitted, still shell shocked.
"But…" I added carefully. "If, theoretically of course, you WOULD be, it really is unnecessary"
"I know, don't state the obvious"
"Right" I sighed, driving my hand through my ruffled hair.
Just as I thought the strange conversation had found its end I heard a quiet muttered "Stupid emotions"
I eyed Sherlock, not sure if I imagined things.
"Come again?"
My voice was far more excited than it should be for my taste.
"EMOTIONS, John! They are absolutely useless, and I hate them with everything I'm capable and they still manage to sneak their way in my thoughts. I could have taken the case, it would at least occupy me for a while, but NO, this women, this pitiful excuse for a human being, this brainless, stupid creature had to look at you like she wanted to eat you alive and then, then she actually DARED to touch you and did the most stupid thing she had ever done in her unimportant and hopefully short life, she had hurt you and don't try to deny it because I am NOT blind and I SAW it in your eyes, the pain she caused to your shoulder with her disgusting manicured fingers was there as clear as the day and I swear if you weren't there I maybe had done something a bit not good because how DARED she to, to get away with THAT" Sherlock spat out, talking so fast I had difficulties to follow his angry rumblings and as he finished he had jumped to his feet, breathing heavily through his nose, fists clenched at his sides.
I watched as the detective slowly realised what he had said in his fury and how all colour leaved his face while he stared at me with shocked, wide eyes.
Carefully I raised myself of the arm chair, looking at my friend with an unreadable expression. And then I smiled.
I smiled so widely my cheeks hurt but I continued to grin fondly at the man in front of me, who still looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
"That, Sherlock…"
I stepped closer so we were just about two inches away from each other.
"That was the sweetest thing I have ever got to hear from somebody"
The now light blue eyes blinked at me baffled, and a deep shade of red covered his cheeks, making him look like a full grown tomato.
My heart swelled in affection for the brilliant genius and I just had to get closer, so our noses were nearly touching.
"Good, because I certainly will never, never say something like that again" the deep baritone voice mumbled and caused pleasant shivers to run down my back.
"I take this as a challenge" I whispered, my heart pounding so fast that my chest felt like it would explode any moment now.
"Good" Sherlock murmured and leaned forward to close the distance between us.
The world stopped existing.
His soft, oh they were so soft, lips were firmly pressed against mine and I knew I would gladly shot myself in the shoulder a second time, just to feel this again. My hands wandered to the long, pale neck and thin but well-built arms sneaked possessively around my upper body, pulling me closer so we were pressed together, chest to chest and then he opened his mouth slowly and suddenly there was a tongue which brushed delicately against my lips and oh holly Lord!
And there we were, snogging each other senseless in the middle of our shared living room and if this wasn't the best day I've ever had I'll wear pink dresses for the rest of my life!
Soon we both realised that there was far too much clothing between us and clumsily we got rid of all the annoying fabric, while trying to get to Sherlock's bedroom with never letting go of each other.
Of course this was rather difficult and we managed it through half of the living room until my impatient friend and now probably partner, lover, boyfriend, madman, whatever shoved me on the couch and managed to still pay attention to my shoulder as he quickly followed, knocking the air out of my lungs. Unnecessary to mention, that I really didn't care.
A few hours full of sweat, moaning and other, very pleasant things later, we lay together on the couch.
Our positions had shifted so that I was the one who was on top of Sherlock, snuggling my face under the detective's chin, long, pale fingers caressing my bad shoulder, which already felt much better to me.
"You were jealous, weren't you?" I asked, smiling as I felt his arms pressing me a bit closer to his chest.
"I think possessive would be a better term" he answered, burring his nose in my hair.
I hummed happily and closed my eyes again, arranging the blanket a bit which covered our very naked bodies, in term Misses Hudson would choose this moment to look after them. That would really be a bit more than not good.
Then I suddenly thought of something.
Frowning I rose my head a bit from its position so I could met the beautiful eyes of my, yes now I can say it, my Sherlock. My Sherlock. MY Sherlock! Oh god I'm getting completely insane.
"You know, you don't have to do this" I said quietly, watching as the others eyebrows shot up questioningly.
I swallowed hard but I knew I had to do this.
"This whole relationship stuff. I mean, you always said that you don't do feelings and, well I don't want you to do something you aren't completely sure o…"
"Stop. Instantly"
I opened my mouth to protest but was silenced with a pair of lips.
"I said stop it, you're being ridiculous" Sherlock said after he pulled back again, leaving me struggling to control my breathing. How the hell did he do that?
I bit my lip and avoided his all-seeing eyes.
"Look at me John"
As I didn't react, two fingers grabbed my chin and softly raised my head so I faced him again.
"I don't say that this will be easy, because it really won't be, for both of us. But I want this. It's none of my experiments, I really, utterly WANT this, and you are not allowed to doubt it, ever"
He said it all with a calm, soft voice and after he finished I swiftly pressed our lips together again. Really, I could do this for the rest of my life.
A cough pulled us back into reality and, blushing a deep red we turned to the door, just to tense up immediately.
Samantha shifted uncomfortably under our stares.
"If you don't leave in an instant I swear I won't contain myself" Sherlock hissed and I shot him a warning look.
"I just wanted to apology" she said accusingly and took a step back.
I shared a confused look with Sherlock and the woman took that as a sign to continue.
"Really I didn't want to cause you any harm John, but…he gave me SO much money!"
Wait, what? I looked at her completely shocked and turned my head around to ask my (my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my…I should really stop with that) detective what the hell she was talking about but was silenced by an absolutely murderous glare. And then I knew.
"MYCROFT" Sherlock shouted furiously and I sighed.
"Well, sorry I'm better leaving" Samantha stuttered embarrassed and quickly disappeared as Sherlock started with a row of very creative curses against his brother while snatching his phone from the armrest.
I silently rolled my eyes and snuggled a bit closer to him, knowing that this phone call would take its time.
Exactly three seconds after he dialled ( yes, I counted) there was a smug greeting and Sherlock started to give his brother a peace of his mind.
"MYCROFT, if you don't INSTANTLY, and I MEAN RIGHT NOW stop to interfere with my life I swear I will THROTTLE you with one of your BLOODY CHOCOLATE CAKES which I KNOW you hide in your bedroom drawer. How DARE you to actually BRIBE a crazy woman to practically ATTAC John just to realize one of your stupid childhood dreams and play the DAMNED MATCHMAKER for me! If you EVER dare to show your LAZY ASS in our flat again I will stuff your SHITTY UMBRELLA DOWN YOUR THROAT and KICK YOU OUT OF THE BLOODY WINDOW"
With that he hang up and the phone was flying behind the couch.
I wasn't able to contain myself and started giggling madly, shaking the whole furniture with silent laughers, Sherlock silently glaring at me.
The next thing I knew was his lips on my own, starting an angry and damn hot kiss which made me smile amused against his mouth.
"And you didn't realise that she was just faking?"
"My mind was a bit occupied" he breathed and bit in my neck.
"With being possessive?" I asked teasingly and sucked at his lower lip.
"Shut up" he grumbled while doing things with his tongue which shouldn't even be possible and stilled my upcoming snicker.
And I knew, Mycroft may be a real prig, but right now I was incredibly thankful. Maybe I should send him a chocolate cake…as Sherlock started to place kisses along my spine I finally lost the track of my thoughts.
Congratulations, you haven't fallen asleep! ;D
Thank you so much for reading this, and please, if you want to, review, if not…I wouldn't be surprised after my weird and senseless prattling.