Dedication:
For my Kiddo (NausS),
This is a small gift for you. I hope you know how grateful I am for the warmth and support your friendship has given me. Without your enthusiasm and constant nudging I wouldn't have felt confident enough to write it. You always make my days brighter. Merci beaucoup, ma Cherie! Love you.
A/N:
Hey guys,
Here I am, once again, with a short fic. This is my first crackfic ever. So, if you enjoy it please leave a review. Your support boosts up my confidence and help me with my writing.
Disclaimer:
The Title: The title of this fic is taken from a sex related Q&A column in an Indian tabloid, Mumbai Mirror. Dr. Mahinder Watsa is the 'Sexpert' of this column. He is a brilliant person and has been working for decades to spread the sexual awareness among the common mass.
The Questions: All the questions asked in this chapter are NOT MINE. They are taken from different websites and papers.
The Answers: All the answers given in this chapter ARE MINE.
Beta: MagdaTheMagpie.
Su is not my beta, she is my best friend. The bestest best friend one can ever have. Thank you, Su, for taking the time and trouble to beta-read it. Love you! *clingy koala hugs*
Special note: This story contains some sex related questions which I stumbled upon a few days ago and laughed my head off. I imagined Sherlock answering them and thus this story came into being. I do not mean any harm to the people who asked them. Hell, there weren't even any name mentioned.
It is a crackfic. I hope this will make you laugh.
Let me know your thoughts.
Sherlock wanted revenge. Well planned, cold blooded revenge. Dark and gory.
John was out with Lestrade again. Despite Sherlock's many ministrations to abort the meeting, John had left him in their cold, empty flat, alone. It wasn't Sherlock's job to light the fireplace; he had already texted John seventeen times to come home and do it, but that daft git hadn't replied yet. Why? Because Sherlock had drugged John for five hours. It was only for five hours, for heaven's sake! It may not have been consensual but still… John was such a drama queen. And cruel. And heartless.
Now, Sherlock wanted revenge.
But how? His eyes flickered through the room in search of a perfect weapon and landed on the ideal one.
The laptop. John's laptop.
It had been days since Sherlock had checked out John's medical blog. He had started this blog right after their case blog. To lend his medical expertise to more people. Hah! As if anyone would consider even checking a GP's blog. John was such a simpleton.
Password: sherlockisagit. Wrong.
ilovesherlock. Wrong.
Hmmmm, getting smarter, aren't we, John?
Password: keeptryingbutthistimeitisunique.
The blog opened in front of Sherlock's eyes. He smirked.
Nothing new had been added since he had checked it last week.
If you have any question, PM me..blah blah blah.
Inbox. Two messages. One read, dated from a few days ago. One unread, dated recently. Hmm. Sherlock clicked the first one.
And immediately choked.
It read-
"I think I've broken my boyfriend's boner. Though he hasn't realized it yet. But I'm afraid that our sex life is over. Please help."
Mycroft's saggy arse! Sherlock read the question, twice.
There was an answer too!
"I don't know how I can be of any help mending your boyfriend's 'broken boner'. Even though it is called a 'boner' in urban slang, it does not actually have bones within it. And I am pretty sure, if the penis was injured in any way, your boyfriend would have been the first one to know. But if you have sex related enquiries, I suggest you consult a sexologist, for I am not one. Thank you."
My sassy idiot, Sherlock smiled affectionately. Then scowled, remembering where and with whom John was right now. Sassy cruel idiot.
Sherlock clicked the unread one. From the same sender. It read-
"You're the doctor, you should answer. Why are you suggesting another doc? Aren't you qualified enough? But you're right. I didn't break his dick. We just had mind blowing sex last night. Thanks!"
Yes, John why are you suggesting another doctor when you can perfectly play the role? Spending time with Gavin and ignoring my texts? It's time to add another feather to John's hat!
Sherlock got up (very reluctantly), to bring his own laptop. It wouldn't be safe to do it from John's laptop. Around twenty minutes later Sherlock's screen sported a new blog-
Science Of Seduction
-By Dr. John H. Watson.
Sexually frustrated? Have questions that are so bizarrely embarrassing that even your keyboard refuses to type them? Want sexual expertise? Ask the Sexpert. Your questions will be answered based on urgency. So, feel free to PM me.
Sherlock checked the whole thing to make sure it sounded like John, and finally logged out. He picked up his violin. John would be home any minute now.
When Sherlock finished the score, two arms wrapped around him from behind and he felt a kiss on his nape. John apologized for not replying. Sherlock felt a pang of guilt for creating the blog without John's knowledge.
But-
John- the sexpert!
The temptation was stronger than the guilt.
[][][][]
It took three days for the first message to arrive.
"I've been sleeping with my girlfriend for three weeks now. Last week she felt nauseous and threw up a lot. We went to a doctor and she said my gf's four months pregnant. Why is my sperm so powerful? What should I do?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes and promptly checked whether John was still in the kitchen before replying.
"It is not your sperm's potency that is in question here. Find your girlfriend's ex. You can make him pay for the pregnancy. Or you can murder him. If you do, please make sure it is a good murder."
He changed the page just in time for John to appear behind him, with his tea. He kissed Sherlock's temple.
Mmmm. My John.
[][][][]
The next day there were two messages-
"My neighbor is in my backyard, trying to have sex with one of the plastic garden gnomes. What should I do?"
"Provide him with a real one. Or ask him to buy his own plastic gnome."
Sherlock was tempted to tell the sender off in his own Sherlockian way, but John- the sexpert wouldn't ever think of doing that. So, he moved onto the next.
"How to masturbate successfully?"
"Google is not a wallpaper. Use it."
Sherlock was having second thoughts. This was not something he aimed for his life.
[][][][]
Ding.
They were in the middle of a crime scene.
Ding.
Sherlock was deducing about the dead body.
Ding.
John was yelling at him for pushing an old lady because she was standing too close to John.
Ding.
"For fuck's sake, who's texting you like crazy?"
"No one."
"Sherlock?"
"Don't 'Sherlock' me."
"Then, care to tell me who's so desperate to talk to you?"
"Mycroft."
"Nope. 'cause now he texts me if you ignore him. Try again."
"Gustav."
"Who the hell is that?"
"Lestrade, of course!"
"You- nevermind, never-"
Ding.
"Either turn the silent mode on or I'm gonna throw it away. And you better not cheat on me, Sherlock Holmes."
"That's atrocious!"
Ding.
John gave him a pointed look before turning away.
"Damn the notification alerts," Sherlock muttered under his breath turning off the text alert sounds.
[][][][]
"I'm married, in my early thirties. Our sex life is very satisfactory. But recently, my wife forces me to wear lingerie and tie my hair whenever we have sex. Why does she do that? Is it normal? What should I do?"
"I am not your wife, hence I cannot tell you her motive behind forcing you to wear female under garments. If both of you enjoy it, then it is normal as once a wise man said, normal is boring. If you do not want to wear them, tell your wife so. If she still forces you, you might want to consider divorcing her."
"My girlfriend is 32. She was bleeding when we had sex last night. She is in the middle of her period. Is it normal? Or does that mean she is pregnant?"
"Oh horror! Bleeding during periods? Unthinkable! Maybe she was pregnant and you just killed the baby. And now the innocent's blood is on your penis. Do your research about periods."
"My clitada hurts?!"
"Define 'clitada'. And are you posing a question or exclaiming? Please, decide first, then bother others."
"Are you willing to have sex with one of your patients, Doctor? I'm 22, with a perfect hourglass figure. And very veeeeeeery naughty in bed. PM me back ;* "
"If you are a patient and carry some interesting diseases (which I'm certain you do), then you indeed will be very appealing for me in bed. A morgue bed, to be precise. In a body bag. And I have a genius, extraordinary boyfriend who does not consider the bed as a kindergarten playground."
"Will peeing in a girl's butt present any serious health problem?"
"If you do not have a toilet where you live, use a public urinal."
"What would most likely happen if I stick a curling iron up my butt hole?"
"It will most likely curl your anus and fry your brain. I'd say good riddance."
[][][][]
Sherlock didn't know anything anymore. This was not supposed to happen. It was meant to embarrass John. But instead, he was being the Sexpert now! Who were these people? Was Mycroft cloning Anderson secretly? Good grief! No, he had to tell John, as soon as possible.
Sherlock, the sexpert? No way in hell.
[][][][]