Anote: I am never too sure what people mean by 'crack' fiction, but I think this definitely qualifies.

This is written on the edge of fiction and nonfiction while I was wrestling with this week's chapter, which Sherlock of course is making difficult for me. It's just for fun, so don't get offended my lovely readers. I will delete it out, if anyone has strong objections.

Normal chapter will be posted this weekend using one of these ideas, so look out.

Chapter 11- A piece of fiction

'What do you have there Sherlock?' the doctor asked as the detective laughed in disbelief.

The two men were sitting in their flat, checking their emails before heading out for the morning.

'New story suggestions for our fan fiction are up.'

Interest peaked, the small man climbed to his feet and hurried over.

'John, I think we have to keep a careful eye on this,' Sherlock said in annoyance, 'I am this close to firing the writer.'

'I don't think we can fire her.'

'What? Why not?' the detective, looked up in some surprise.

'Because she's writing these stories for free,' John patiently explained. 'In any case, I think they are great.'

Sherlock snorted as he glared at the other man, 'Of course you would! She worships the ground you walk on!'

John gave him a stern look, 'Don't be so melodramatic. She likes you too. It's not her fault that you are so difficult to write! Let's see what we have here. This is a good one. Look Sherlock! Quite appropriate!'

SHansen: Sherlock messes up yet another date for John, but this time tries to make up for it.

'If you would stop introducing me to these…..WOMEN!' Sherlock reasoned with a sneer as he pointed at the computer screen, 'a humiliating scenario like that would never occur.'

'Sherlock, I HAVE to introduce you because you are my best friend and we LIVE TOGETHER!' John yelled in frustration as he waved his hands around; this topic being canvassed to death on many occasions.

'I do not care to meet any of them,' Sherlock replied dismissively.

'Oh yeah? I think I got that hint when you propped that large no-girls-allowed sign on the coffee table. Look, it's too early for this, let's not argue!'

The men read another suggestion.

Bally: How about they both get sick but they each try to take care of each other?

'Yeah, like that's going to happen,' John remarked with a giggle.

'How do you mean?' Sherlock asked, pinning him with a curious look.

John smiled in bemusement, not sure if Sherlock was asking a serious question or not. 'Taking care of someone sick requires a lot of patience. You wouldn't last a day!'

'Fine,' the detective murmured unexpectedly, as he looked down and away. 'Well I am sure you rather one of your "GIRLFRIENDS" look after you. I probably wouldn't be any good, anyway.'

John caught sight of his hurt expression out of the corner of his eye and sighed. Sherlock was such a manipulative bastard that he really should give lessons.

'I would much rather have you take care of me if I was sick, than anyone else,' John insisted in a monotone voice.

Even though Sherlock sniffed and pointed his aristocratic nose in the air; he smiled, elated that John had said the words, despite the fact that they both knew he was lying through his teeth.

Quickly Sherlock scanned through the rest of the reviews; boredom growing as no further comments were made about his sheer wonderfulness.

John put out his hand to stop him.

'Hmmm…well this one here is interesting. Not a story suggestion but a comment.'

Chastain: John is the best. Maybe we'll get to see more of Captain John Watson instead of sidekick and Mother Hen John Watson?

'A more serious role,' John murmured in a dreamy voice as he stared out the window, '…that would be lovely; quite lovely.'

Sherlock gave him a look of disbelief, 'You don't need a more serious role. The role you have is serious enough or is being kidnapped, poisoned and assaulted, suddenly too tame for you?'

John wasn't looking at him, but Sherlock was dead serious in his remark. Over the months, the small doctor had one too many close calls for his liking!

Hummingbird: Well, all I can say is...Ohh, my sweet, precious boys! *Gobbles them up*

'Definitely, NOT my area! Sherlock shouted, as he sprang out of his chair as if he had been shot in the buttocks, 'I'll just leave you to deal with this.'

'No thanks. I'm coming with you!' John yelled, crashing into a table as he made a grab for his coat.

The two men then turned and thundered down the steps, as if all the hounds of Baskerville were nipping at their heels.