Again thank you to all the lovely reviews. I don't deserve you guys so hugs all round. This chapter is pure fluff, fluffy fluff fluff fluff and frothier then a cappuccino, enjoy.

I is for Ikea

'Would you like the good news or the bad news?' Sherlock addressed John one day.

'Good news' he hoped this would soften the blow for the eventual 'I've accidentally started a nuclear war or I may have made our flat uninhabitable' or whatever else constituted as bad news in the Sherlock Holmes handbook.

'Well the good news is that I love you, very very much'

'And the bad news?'

'Well. In order to solve the case, a very tricky and complicated case I might add, I may have blown up our bookshelf'


It was his day off and John could think of a million things he would rather be doing then traipsing round Ikea looking for a new bookshelf. The last one currently lying in a million pieces in their wheelie bin. Walking round the minimalist designs with other bored looking members of the public, whose other halves had promised them they just needed some new spoons but where now mentally replacing all their furniture. He couldn't believe he was missing the cricket for this.

'Why is everything so Swedish?'

'Sherlock it's Ikea, of course everything is Swedish'

'Why does everything have to have a name? It's furniture'

'I don't know Sherlock'

'Tan line around the ring finger, that man is recently divorced, kitting out his new bachelor pad I reckon' John just wanted to buy a new bookshelf and get out of their, but Sherlock was seeing this as an opportunity to hone his particular skill.

Something told John this was going to be the start of a really long day.


'Sherlock put that book down'

'Let me finish this paragraph'

'But it's in Swedish' Sherlock responded with an 'I fail to see your point' expression.

'You can read Swedish, of course you can' John muttered to himself.

Walking past the bed's John should have sensed what was coming, he was an army boy after all, he mentally scolded himself for being so easy to surprise. Sherlock pushed his body weight against John's through his hip, the man was a lot stronger then he looked. John landed on one of the bed's and Sherlock began to tickle him.

'Sherlock, no get of' Sherlock being a 6ft something toddler, thought that using the display beds to tickle John was perfectly acceptable behaviour. John wriggled but Sherlock pinned him in place by straddling his hips. John kept trying to escape those hands. John managed to grab Sherlock's hands and clasp them together then rolled them over so he was now on top of Sherlock, he couldn't resist crushing his lips to Sherlock's, then pulling away when his brain suddenly remembered where he was. Staring down at Sherlock his body responded to how it usually did when Sherlock was underneath him on a bed, shit, it was all right for Sherlock, he could hide his under that long coat, John couldn't. He jumped up off the bed before things got any worse, which of course, they did. There was a loud cracking sound from the bed, which Sherlock scoffed at

'Look how flimsy the beds are, we would break this within minutes' He had sex on the brain now and since he was becoming more and more sexually adventurous with each passing day, John decided not to risk being ravaged in public on a display bed by the world's only consulting detective. He would never live it down, Lestrade still hadn't forgotten the shag they had at in his office which Sherlock had insisted was locked but not certainly was not.

'Bookshelves, now'

They finally left Ikea with a modest black bookshel, no frills, just a simple bookcase that would fit in with the rest of the decor in their flat. Sherlock frowned when he saw the brown box.

'You mean we have to assemble it ourselves?'

'Yes Sherlock'


When they finally got back to 221B John had already used up all his energy on the shopping trip, so he quite fancied a cup of tea and a sit down, Sherlock however insisted on assembling it right there and then, he tore open the box like a child on Christmas morning, then set about trying to assemble it.

'Sherlock we need to read the instructions' John insisted

'Boring'

John ignored him and grabbed the leaflet that had been discarded by his lover.

'Fine I will supervise' He tried to tell Sherlock what to do, which but went where, but it fell on deaf ears.

'You are doing it wrong' John was fast losing his patience.

'No I am not' Sherlock pouted

'Yes you are that shelf is upside down' John waved an arm but Sherlock gave a casual shrug of the shoulders.

'Design flaw, I corrected it, it's much better this way'

'Fine' John had already decided none of his stuff was going on this bookshelf, nothing breakable anyway.

'Insert rod a into slot b'

'Now now John, I'm trying to assemble our new bookshelf don't be so kinky'

'It's what it says in the instructions'

'Really? My god those Swedes'

'You have a screw loose'

'Really John that is not very nice. You are supposed to be my boyfriend'

'I meant the bookcase Sherlock, though now that you mention it' John was cut off from finishing by one very stern look.

'Do you think Mycroft is spying on us?'

'Yes, and a fat lot of good he is, he could at least offer to help us'

'I think we are today's entertainment'

They continued to bicker and argue, John wondered if assembling flat pack furniture was a leading cause of divorce. Maybe they should sue.

The sun was setting when the bookcase was finally complete. Sherlock looked so smug as if he has just painted the Sistine Chapel rather than some Ikea furniture.

'Skull takes pride of place' Sherlock insisted, then the rest of the case was filled with books and medical journals and other paraphernalia.


To his great surprise the bookshelf stayed up, it was surprisingly sturdy and well built considering it had been put up by Sherlock. A month later John came back from another hard day's work at the surgery.

'Ah John, er there has been a slight disaster, only I was doing an experiment and over estimated the amount of gun powder needed '

'Oh no, the bookshelf'

'Oh no John the bookshelf is fine' John breathed a sigh of relief, but something else caught his eye.

'Sherlock what the fuck have you done to our coffee table'

And back to Ikea they went.