Chapter 2 Living Together

Sherlock was never a fan of sharing his space with others. Being a roommate with Sebastian in the university had been bad enough, but living with Mycroft… it was a wonder that none of them had tried to strangle each other in that brief period. If Mycroft hadn't kicked him out first, giving a flimsy excuse of how Sherlock was wasting his money on drugs because he didn't have to worry about rents, Sherlock was sure that he would have stormed out of that place on his own. Possibly leaving a bleeding, unconscious older brother behind.

It was a wonder, therefore, how easy it was for Sherlock to accept his current companion, who was not even physically alive. For one, Sherlock no longer closed his laptop, for the ghost had once complained to him that it was difficult to open it by himself.

(Maybe, it was the fact that he was not alive that made their relationship work. Considering the fact that before him, the skull had the honour of being Sherlock's best companion, it was not that outrageous a claim. That probably spoke volumes of Sherlock's people skills, social life, or whatever, but he had long ago decided not to give a damn about what others thought about him.)

After that brief break-down caused by the realization that ghosts really existed, and the wonderfully mind-clearing dose of caffeine, Sherlock's curiosity had made itself known. He had asked many questions, varying from the ghost's identity to the ability of ghosts, but this ghost seemed to be particularly against straight forward answers. More often than not the irritating Not telling you or Work it out yourself :) would be the returning answer, and Sherlock had never felt such a vehement rage against the innocent emoticon, :).

The only information Sherlock managed to weasel out of the ghost was its name; James. And apparently it preferred to be called Jim. Sherlock decided to call him James, just so he could give back some of the vexation he received from it. Of course, James retaliated by giving him various pet names such as honey, darling, sweetie, and by god, Sherly-kin. Sometimes Sherlock would show indignation at being called as such, but he had already half accepted that as the way things were going to be between them.

My, my, darling, I never thought that you were so popular.

Suddenly Sherlock's laptop came alive by its own volition. It had been a long day since it did that. James never had a set out time to make his existence known. Sometimes he would be quite for days, only sullenly pushing things down occassionally, but sometimes he would never shut up. It seemed like the brooding phase finally stopped and the chatty mood struck James again. Sherlock even felt somewhat glad about that. He was no longer bothered about supernatural phenomenon. Truly, there was no end to human adaptability.

What do you mean?

People came in while you were out, and installed cameras and bugs. You've got yourself a one hell of a stalker. I'm almost jealous, honey.

Sherlock growled low at that, instantly recognizing the culprit. Goddamn Mycroft and his inability to stay out of other people's business. With a movement born out of long practice, Sherlock quickly found out the ones hidden in various places, and gathered up the offending surveillance equipment.

"Mycroft," Sherlock spoke to one of the bugs with the sweetest voice he could manage, "this, is the last warning you would receive. Once more, and she would hear about the incident. And I would not be above screaming into the bug, either. So Get, the fuck, out of my life." With that, Sherlock soundly crunched the thing inside his hand.

Huh, that was almost professional, the way you removed all of them. Not an isolated incident, then?

"Hardly," Sherlock replied tersely. He was so annoyed that he couldn't even bother to type in like he usually did.

So who was it?

"Mycroft, my brother."

Silence. Then,

Ooh, kinky. Have a little thing for incest?

"What? NO!" Sherlock shouted, completely scandalized, and almost gagged at the mental image that those words caused to pop inside his head. Oh god, he would have gladly gauzed out his eyes if it meant that he could wipe clean that particularly nasty piece of image. "He's just trying to stick his nose where it doesn't belong, because he 'cares' about me or some shit like that. More than likely, he's curious about why I suddenly stopped my habit."

Yeah, I wonder about that do. Why did you have to quit? It had been real fun.

That was exactly why Sherlock decided to quit. After he had been assured that he was not hallucinating, Sherlock had gotten back to his beloved cocaine. James had been in his quite mood those days, and nothing interesting had been going on, so Sherlock had thought that it was as good as any time to go back.

Apparently, it hadn't been the smartest thing to with his ghost flatmate. James, who had gotten out of his flunk, had greeted his sober self with never ending 'HAHAHAHAHA' which was more than a little bit creepy. He had also taken great delight in informing him that he was hilarious little babbling mass when he was high as kite. It made Sherlock wary of what he would say in his less than clear-minded state, and in some degree, even feel vulnerable. He had vowed that his only vice would be cigarette and coffee for as long as he got to live with James.

But there was absolutely no need to tell all of this to that irritating ghost. So Sherlock just settled in replying,

"Got bored of it, is all."

Evidently, James seemed to accept this short answer. After all, he got bored as easily and as often as Sherlock did. Sometimes, Sherlock would think about James and his boredom, and what would they have done to each other and the world if they had met when James was actually alive.

Sherlock thought that it would have been the better world.

Oh well then, James typed, penetrating Sherlock's odd contemplating, you've gotta provide me with another entertainment. I'd like to see your brother.

"Mycroft? What for?"

You are pretty much entertaining. Thought that another Holmes would liven up things a bit.

Sherlock didn't agree with that particular sentiment. His brother had usually dampened and ruined Sherlock's life if anything. However, he knew that Mycroft would visit sooner or later – probably far too much sooner than Sherlock liked it to be – because his nosiness would never allow him to stay too far away from Sherlock, especially when his little brother had gone through a curious change. Getting a visit from Mycroft was one of the sadly inevitable things in life.

"You would get your wish soon," so Sherlock carelessly replied with a shrug. James happily gave him his favourite emoticon, :).


AN : Another chapter done! I had to cut it a little short because of my assignments and stuffs, sorry for that, but hopefully next chapter would be a bit longer XD

Thanks to VirendraLione, Aeryn, emazeme for your kind reviews. It made me feel really happy :D

And again, what did you guys think about this chapter? Please say something, it encourages me greatly!