Chapter 1

Sherlock lay on the couch. His hands were balled into fists as he stared at the ceiling. "Bored!"

John didn't even look up from what he was reading. "Then do something, Sherlock."

Sherlock jumped off the couch, stepped over the coffee table and paced the room. "There's nothing to do. Everything is so... BORING!"

John sighed. He knew where this was going."Is there nothing on the website to keep you busy?"

Sherlock dismissed this with an impatient wave towards John's laptop. "Not anymore... I've been bored all night. Do something..."

John turned a page, determinedly not looking at Sherlock. "What can I do about it? I'm reading. I'm not in the mood for whiny detectives."

Sherlock slumped down on the floor next to John, almost resting his head in his lap so he could see the page. "What are you reading?"

John moved the magazine slightly, obscurring the contents from Sherlock's view. "A medical article on a problem that I met in the hospital today."

"Tell me!"

"Why? You don't even approve of my job there."

Sherlock got up and started pacing again. "I don't care. Anything is better than this utter mindnumbing boredom!"

John tried to focus on the article and didn't notice Sherlock walking up behind him, before he was leaning down, his mouth right next to John's ear. "Can I borrow your gun?"

John jumped and barely surpressed a yelp. "No, you can't."

"Why not?

John sighed and put his article down. "Because we don't need more holes in the wall. And I'm certainly not helping you in an experiment that involves my gun and getting shot."

"I'm not getting shot!"

"No, probably I would."

"That's not a certainty"

"Sherlock, no." John got up from the chair. "Do you want tea?"

Sherlock slumped down in the chair. "Tea? Boring!"

"Ugh. Then what do you want?"

"I want you to do something interesting. Something unexpected."

John went into the kitchen to put on the kettle. "Well, you should know by now that I'm plain boring, so I'm very sorry."

Sherlock got up and followed him. "No you're not."

John turned his back, so Sherlock couldn't see his smile. There was a pause between them. "You could shoot something."

John turned, his eyebrows raised. "Right," for a moment it looked like he's actually considering it. "Like what?"

"I don't know... Anderson?"

John tried to look disapproving but couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Well..."

"Interested?"

"Almost."

John's face betrayed him and broke into a smile.

Shelock perked up. "I can be your alibi!"

"Yeah, well, as much as he is a pain in the arse, I'd probably better not commit a murder. It wouldn't even help you much, you would know it was me anyway."

"I never said anything about murder. Just shoot him a little."

John chuckled as he poured the tea. ยด"Sure you don't want any?"

Sherlock flopped down on the chair opposite him, legs splayed, robe hanging of one shoulder. He was positively sulking.

"You can shoot people without killing them you know."

John met his eye. "I know that rather well, Sherlock." He pointed to his shoulder.

Sherlock managed to look contrite for all of five seconds. Then he leaned forward. Expectantly. "So you agree?"

John looked resigned. "No," he seemed to be considering something. "I'll do something unexpected in a minute. Let me drink my tea first. You can try to deduce what I'm going to do, meanwhile."

Sherlock pulled his chair closer to the table, so he could rest his elbows on the table, while he studied John intently. After precisely 45 seconds he looked pointedly at his watch. John continued to calmly drink his tea.

Sherlock groaned impatiently.

Finally John looked up. "Deduced anything yet?"

Sherlock sounded hopeful. "You are going to... shoot Anderson's car?"

John got up and went over to stand by the kitchen sink. "It's nothing to do with Anderson. And it doesn't involve getting out, I can tell you that. Far too lazy tonight."

Sherlock stared at him from across the table. "Ok... so ... you're going to be... incredibly BORING!"

John's smile was enigmatic. "I think it will be unexpected." He drank the last of his tea and put the mug in the sink. Sherlock didn't know where this is going. He pulled at his lower lip. John gestured at him. "Come here."

Uncertain but curious, Sherlock moved closer.

John reached out, wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and enveloped him in a tight hug, face buried in his shoulder. Sherlock froze. John closed his eyes and breathed in Sherlock's scent.

"Ehm, John?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

John's voice was muffled against Sherlock's shoulder. "Hugging you."

"Oh"

They just stood there for a while.

"You wanted something unexpected."

Sherlock didn't answer. John started getting nervous. "Should I let go?"

Sherlock considered it. "Ehm... not yet."

John smiled and stayed where he was.

Sherlock broke the silence. "This is kind of nice."

"Yeah."

Sherlock considered all this new data. "So, you do this a lot?"

John frowned. "Then it wouldn't be very unexpected, would it?"

"Well, not with me... I mean, do you do this sort of thing a lot... with ... others?"

John surpressed a smile. "Not really. You scared away all my girlfriends and even then we hardly ever got to just a hug like this. It's nice."

"Very." Sherlock put his arms around John experimentally. John smiled again and pressed his nose against Sherlock's neck. They staid like this for a long time. Again it was Sherlock who broke the silence.

"Doesn't it get boring though... I mean after a while?"

John shrugged. "I don't think so, though you probably will get bored. I'm relieved that that implies you're not bored right now, though."

"You're right. I'm not. This is... interesting."

"Well. Mission accomplished." He squeezed Sherlock a little.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"What if I'm getting a little bit bored again?"

"Well. Either you find something to make it more interesting again, or I let go and you start nagging again."

"I'm not really in a nagging mood anymore..." Then he added: "It's your fault, you know."

"What is?" John looked up at Sherlock, arms still around him.

"I was having a real good tantrum going there, and you went and took all the fun out of it."

John giggled. "I'm very sorry. No, actually I'm not."

Sherlock tickled him. Just a little.

"Stop that." John giggled again.

"Hmmm. Things just got interesting. How about this?" Sherlock moved his hands, and tickled in a new spot.

Suddenly John grabbed Sherlock's hands and held them away from his body. Sherlock struggled. "Hey!"

"No tickling."

"Why not? It's interesting. You make really funny noices."

"If you keep doing that I'll find out whether you are ticklish."

Sherlock tried to look superior, but it wasn't really working in this position. "I'm not!"

"I don't believe you."

"It's just transport."

John grinned, wickedly. "Ticklish transport."

Sherlock tried to wrestle free. But it was no use. John's grip was too strong. "Oh, don't even think about it!"

"By the way, if it's just transport... I thought you rather liked the hug?"

Sherlock's tried to look offended, but failed miserably. "So... My mode of transportation, likes to be hugged... Big deal."

John grinned. "Nice explanation." He shifted and was suddenly holding both Sherlock's wrists in one hand. He quickly moved the other to tickle him.

Sherlock squirmed. "Stop that!"

"See?"

Sherlock gave him his best glare, while at the same time looking a bit desperate. "Stop that. I'm not kidding!"

John stopped, and without thinking leant in and kissed Sherlock's cheek. Then he pulled back, mortified.

"Oh - wow - I'm sorry." He quickly let go of Sherlock's hands.

Sherlock just looked stunned.

Now it was John who was squirming. "Erm. I'll... just... erm, go."

Sherlock touched his fingers to his cheek. John looked up, surprised. Then he quickly looked away again. John turned away and walked to the living room. Sherlock slumped down on a kitchen chair, his hand still on his cheek.

"John?"

John was feeling a bit miserable, but stopped halfway through the living room. "Yes?"

"I'm not bored anymore."

"Oh. That's - good."

"Yes... I suppose it is."

John turned around so he could look at Sherlock. "Right."

"John?"

"What?"

"Should we talk about this?"

"About what?"

Sherlock gestured vaguely at John, the kitchen, everything. "This?" He tried again: "Tickling?"

John sighed. "I don't know. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

"I don't know, either. It depends on what you want to say, I guess."

Sherlock ran a hand through his hair. "The thing is... and please please do not tell anyone I ever said this... I don't know what to say... I'm... I guess I am a little bit confused... You confused me, John"

John almost smiled. "How?"

"You surprised me..."

"That's what you wanted, right. So there isn't so much to talk about."

"Guess not... good job... I suppose."

John turned away again, but he didn't walk away. The silence seemed to stretch forever.

Then:

"John... I'm bored!"

(We'll continue working on this story, so please let us know what you think.)