A/N: Heh I'm not very good at long stories about humans, so I'll just be posting a few drabbles now and then. Almost summer time yay.
"SHERLOCK!" John yelled at the top of his lungs. Damnit. Why couldn't that man listen to him for once?
The door slammed and he heard the pounding of long feet down the stairs.
John sighed. Sherlock had just rushed out of the house...again. And this time he had left John tied to a chair as an 'experiment.' He had been testing whether a victim of military backing could get out of this sticky situation. It had to do with a crime. Well, he soo found he couldn't. Wriggling experimentally back and forth, he sighed again. Bored. Great. Now he knew how Sherlock felt all the time.
"Mrs. Hudson!" he yelled loudly, but she was downstairs as always and rather hard of hearing. He had a lunch appointment with Mike Stamford and he had no intention of standing or so to speak, sitting, him up.
Maybe five or ten minutes had passed and he sighed for the umpteenth time. He was facing a wall pretty much. Nothing interesting to look at except Sherlock's books, the smiley face of bullets he had put in the wall when he was bored, and the skull he often talked to. He couldn't guess why on earth Sherlock talked to a skull, but then again he didn't have a lot of friends. Wonder why...
A little over twenty more minutes passed and he groaned. He didn't like being tied to the chair AT ALL and when Sherlock came home, he was going to get a good tongue-lashing from him. He would bang his head against the wall out of sheer frustation, but he wasn't close enough for that. That reminded him of the skull again and he looked it over skeptically. It wasn't so unusual. He couldn't imagine Sherlock ever talking to a toy as a kid. In fact, he couldn't really imagine him playing at all. He was bored out of his mind. What was so great about talking to a skull?
"...Hello?" he tentatively said to the skull. It did nothing. Merely sitting there and staring at him with empty eyes.
"So...how are you doing?" he watched the skull skeptically. Maybe it would stand up and do the polka. Rolling his eyes, he gave up. He really didn't see the fun in this.
"Why hello John. I'm doing fine. So nice of you to ask," the skull said and John stared at it in shock. What. The. Hell. Either he was going crazy or the skull had just talked to him.
"Umm...have you been able to do this long?" he stammered, staring with wide eyes at it. What do you say to a skull?
"Of course," was its short answer.
"Why haven't you ever talked to me before?" he asked, feeling more brave. How on earth could a skull talk? And why now?
"You never talked to me before," was its obvious answer.
"Well, I'm talking to you now I guess," he replied, still feeling flummoxed and half-insane by now.
"Yes, that's a good start in our relationship," the skull continued conversationally.
"R-Relation-what?!" his mind simply went blank.
"Yes, I've loved you for quite some time now," the skull continued its rather deep flat voice.
He just stared at the skull. And the skull stared back.
After a long pause, there was a sound of a doorknob turning. Facing away from the door, Watson had no idea who it was. If they hadn't knocked, they were probably there to kill either him or Sherlock.
"Hello?" he queried.
"Surprised to see me John?" It was Sherlock. Good.
"Sherlock, you are in so much trouble now! I have missed my very important lunch date, you TIED ME TO A FLIPPING CHAIR, and by the way, your skull talked to me," he rambled in a long sentence. He was really pissed right now, but more confused as to what had just happened earlier, and a little scared.
"John, are you feeling okay? Skulls can't talk," Sherlock looked at him in a slightly confused and humorous cross, before walking over and untying John.
He stretched his arms a little and then frowned. He was fairly sure he was not crazy. Besides, Sherlock had that look on his face and when he did, John knew he was up to something.
Striding over to the skull he said, "You can talk now." Sherlock stared at him as if he had lost his mind. And maybe he had. "Hello?" he knocked on the cranium a few times with his knuckles. To his surprise, instead of a hollow echo, he heard a dull thunk.
"John..." Sherlock started, but John had his back to him and was curious.
"What the...?" he stared at a small black thing. What was it? It looked like his cell-phone, only smaller and chunkier.
"John," Sherlock repeated.
"God damnit WHAT?" John practically yelled.
Sherlock pulled out a similar device to the one under the skull. Grinning broadly, he said, "I've loved you for quite some time now. Want to go out tonight?"
John just stared at Sherlock. First, he just stared at Sherlock and then he turned red. That was the idiot's idea for a joke? To ask him out on a first date through a human skull? He realized these were small police walkie talkies. "SHERLOCK!"
Sherlock gave a barely contained giggle and raced off with his long legs into his room. John raced after him, yelling the whole time.