She woke up to her phone going off.
Kirk to Enterprise. Kirk to Enterprise?
She yelped as she woke up, startling the dog that had fallen asleep in her room.
She brushed out the tiredness from her eyes. A quick check of the clock showed it was close to nine AM.
Danielle groaned, flopping back against the bed.
Someone had better be dying
If so, then it'd better be Sherlock texting me.
Danielle moved her hand towards her phone. She was met with a loud clattering of noise. Yep. It fell to the floor.
She answered the phone to find instead of Sherlock a text from Felix. Apparently, he had something to say. Danielle hadn't heard him leave the night before but she reckoned he had classes to attend, so that made sense.
Another text came in.
'Did you know you're in a blog?'
==NKMHLY==
Someone knocked on the door.
Danielle jumped, clutching her phone to her chest. After pausing a minute to breath, she went to check who was there. She peeled through the eyehole. She was feeling justifiably paranoid. It didn't help that she had just texted Sherlock and John, thus seemingly like a poorly timed joke from the universe.
She looked in the peephole, ignoring her own mind. It kept putting up 'what if' ideas that just didn't need to exist. What if it was General Shen? What if it was a ninja that wanted vengeance for the arrests? What if it was someone new that saw Danielle's texts to them then decided to kill her to eliminate any possible witnesses to a crime? What if it was someone holding a gun? What if...what if...what if?
Her overactive imagination was proven at the other side. It was only Jim.
With a relieved exhale, Danielle unlocked the door. She opened the door to greet him with an at-ease smile. She couldn't believe her mind had thought there was danger, it was always so active after a bad night. "Hi Jim."
"Hi." Jim waved his fingers at Danielle, making her smile wide. Jim always had just the right joke to make stuff funny, to make Danielle more at ease. That had been one of the big reasons for letting him move in so fast. "Sorry, just wanted to drop these off." He handed over a sheet of paper.
Danielle accepted it. The document was just a formality, full of references for Jim including the last place he lived and where he worked.
"You work at Bart's?" Danielle read.
" position opened up after I arrived." Jim replied with an eager smile. "Met a girl there too."
"Oh! How lucky!" Danielle praised. "You should bring her by! If it's serious, I mean."
"It's really serious." Jim nodded, with a fake dramatic voice.
The two said their goodbyes. As Danielle closed and locked the door, her phone chirped. It was John's personalized ringtone, a TARDIS noise cause he was a doctor. 'Out at work' the text read.
Danielle blew out a sigh. She figured Sherlock wouldn't be dragging them out on any cases-
Her phone chirped the TARDIS noise again.
'Sherlock's on a case. Handling it alone- insisted it wasn't that big.'
Danielle appreciated the forethought in that. Still, she had less than happy feelings about John texting her. Especially after she read some of the blog...
Her phone chirped a different ringtone. Sherlock's, of course. This time it was the pink panther theme tune, cause she thought it would annoy him the most.
'In Belarus. It's a 3. I'll return by nightfall. SH'
Danielle settled with the fact she would have a lazy day. She went about morning chores, before settling by the TV to catch up on her new favorite procedural shows. Erika was more than happy to have a cuddle, while Nightwing took a nap on Danielle's legs.
==NKMHLY==
Gunshots disturbed the peaceful evening air.
Danielle yelped- nearly shrieking as she fell off the couch. Her cat reacted with the same nonchalance of an animal that actively chose not to care. Erika didn't. Her loud barking startled Danielle all over again.
Pushing herself to her feet, Danielle grunted in annoyance. She was thankfully dressed as she stormed out.
Mrs Hudson's door was open. A pressing concern for another day.
She climbed up the stairs to hear John already going off on Sherlock. "-the hell are you doing?!"
"What is attacking?!" Danielle yelped, not seeing any foes or villains or ninjas. Honestly, it was disappointing. Annoying too- but mostly disappointing. She wanted to have an easy day, but if it was going to be interrupted by anything let it be exciting.
Why was Sherlock holding a gun?
"Bored." Sherlock replied, petulant like a needy child. Or Erika, whenever she was in trouble as a pup but wanted attention. Danielle had been made immune to that look.
"What?" John gawked.
"You're joking." Danielle asked, incredulous.
Where did Sherlock get a gun?!
Hold on is that JOHN'S GUN?!
"Bored!" Sherlock yelled. He shot up from the chair, holding up the gun.
Danielle hit the dirt.
(The flat wasn't actually dirt, but knowing Sherlock there might be dirt here for tests on his science blog)
"No-" John warned.
Sherlock aimed the gun at the wall.
Danielle pressed her palms to her hands.
The gun went off twice.
Danielle wanted to kill him.
She wasn't having flashbacks.
Nope.
She wasn't remembering the last time she heard gunfire while covering her ears.
Or had it been her eyes? Both?
Fuck she didn't know
She was just scared
Danielle took in a deep breath.
"Bored! Bored!" Sherlock complained.
The gunshot stops. Danielle glanced up, squinting one eye open. She saw John wrench the gun away from a pouting Sherlock. Danielle looked to what Sherlock had been shooting at- to see the torn up wall for Mrs Hudson. All that was there was a painted smiley face.
She was definitely killing him.
Sherlock walked over Danielle to reach the couch. She pushed herself to her knees, staring ahead to wonder just what the actually fuck had just happened.
Ignoring the impulse to curl back up
She wasn't in a museum.
She didn't need to look out for Soo Lin.
She could breathe.
She was okay. She was on Baker Street.
Danielle stood up, stumbling until she landed into Sherlock's previous seat. All the while, trying very hard not to imagine killing Sherlock. Maybe with that skull on the mantle? It would be creative...
"Don't know what's got into the criminal classes. Good job I'm not one of them." Sherlock complained.
"So you take it out on the wall." John scolded, as he got about putting his gun away.
Sherlock poked the bullet holes he'd made. "Ah, the wall had it coming." He flopped down onto the couch.
"God I can't imagine you as it." Danielle ran her hands over her face. A criminal but like Sherlock Holmes...how disquieting. "No you can't be one. Then you'll be proving those detectives right."
Sherlock hummed in thought. "I suppose that's true...I can't be proving them right."
"What about that Russian case?" John prompted.
"Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time." Sherlock dismissed.
"Ah, shame." John snarked. He walked off into the very messy kitchen.
Danielle winced in sympathy. If she wasn't certain half the things there would kill her, she would help John clean.
"Anything in? I'm starving." John opened the fridge. "Oh, f-"
Danielle shrieked. She jumped back on her seat, clutching the arm. She had caught sight of it before John closed it.
A fucking head
"It's a head." John snapped. "A severed head!"
"Just tea for me, thanks." Sherlock ordered dryly.
Danielle glared at him. "You prick!"
"There's a head in the fridge." John scolded him. The doctor stormed back into the living room to better glare at his flatmate.
"Yes." Sherlock replied.
"A bloody head!"
"It looked like a zombie head!" Danielle yelled.
"Well, where else was I supposed to put it?" Sherlock asked, in a fit already. As if he had been more offended. "You don't mind, do you?"
Danielle fought the thought of how exactly she would kill Sherlock Holmes. She didn't want to see a dead head. Those chemicals would help- no no no no. No murder, Danielle. Murder bad.
"I got it from Bart's morgue." Sherlock explained.
'Like you would've taken it from anyone else?!'
"I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death."
'Why?! Why would anyone do this?!'
"I see you've written up the taxi driver case." Sherlock noted.
Danielle blushed, curling her knee up onto the seat. She held it to her chest. She hoped to hide the embarrassed blush on her face.
"Uh, yes." John agreed. He sat in his usual chair, eyeing Sherlock cautiously. He no doubt was waiting for Sherlock to give out complaints.
"'A Study in Pink'. Nice." Sherlock praised.
...that was it?
Well...not that Sherlock has any reason to be complaining right now...but that was it?
"Well, you know, pink lady, pink case, pink phone – there was a lot of pink. Did you like it?" John asked. He glanced at Danielle. "Did- did you read it? My blog?"
Danielle refused to answer.
"She read it, didn't like it." Sherlock grabbed a magazine from his coffee table. "Neither did I."
"Why not? I thought you'd be flattered." John wondered.
Flattered?! Danielle mentally yelled.
Sherlock seemed just as offended. "Flattered?" He held up a finger, as if pointing at the screen he was reading off. "'Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things.'"
"Now hang on a minute. I didn't mean that in a-" John began.
Sherlock, as usual, gave no chance for someone to defend themself. "Oh, you meant 'spectacularly ignorant' in a nice way. Look, it doesn't matter to me who's Prime Minister-"
John sighed. "I know-"
"-or who's sleeping with who-"
"Whether the Earth goes round the Sun-"
Danielle did smile at that. She dropped it quickly before John saw.
"Not that again. It's not important." Sherlock dismissed.
"Not impor-It's primary school stuff. How can you not know that?" John asked, incredulous. "Moreover why don't you like it?"
Danielle bit down on the inside of her cheek.
"I believe it was-"
"Sherlock shut up." Danielle snapped, not even bothering to glare his way. It wouldn't make him feel guilty at all.
Sherlock huffed. "No need to feel hurt, Danielle, I'm sure John meant it as a compliment when he said 'she was as nervous and jittery as a frightened child, it made me wonder why I had brought her with me. She had been just as worried about Sherlock, practically crying in the seat beside me, which explains it. I wonder if she's always this excitable.'"
Danielle bit back her snap of wanting to stab out Sherlock's eyes with a spoon. One the rusty ones that he kept in the kitchen, cause he definitely kept a few in there. Maybe to test the effects of heroin on a corpse, or whatever. See if he likes that.
John, on the other hand, seemed to see the picture he had inadvertently painted. "Okay. That sounds bad-"
"My brother read it first. Said his flatmate showed it to him, he wondered if the 'Nolan' was related to him." Danielle supplied, trying to keep her face unresponsive.
John winced.
Danielle was silently pleased. She hadn't wanted to say anything, it had felt too awkward to bring up. Why would she bring up John insulting her online? Looking back at that time, his point of view made sense.
That didn't make it hurt any less.
"I deleted it." Sherlock blurted out. John and Danielle glanced back at him. "The universe. I deleted it."
"'Deleted it'?" John repeated.
"Listen." Sherlock sat up, glaring fiercely at John like he would lash out to attack at any moment. He pointed at his forehead. "This is my hard drive, and it only makes sense to put things in there that are useful...really useful. Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish, and that makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters. Do you see?"
Oi! I find the information on the origins of Floo Powder VERY IMPORTANT!
It's made from a green plant, you know? A lot like how actually cocaine is made. Felix didn't like it when I made a joke about Floo Powder being wizard cocaine.
I don't see the problem
They both take you to a magical place.
"But it's the solar system!" John argued after a beat.
"Oh, hell! What does that matter?! So we go round the Sun! If we went round the Moon, or round and round the garden like a teddy bear it wouldn't make any difference. All that matters to me is the work. Without that, my brain rots." Sherlock ranted. "Put that in your blog. Or better still, stop inflicting your opinions on the world."
He slapped the magazine down on the table. Further being petulant, he turned over on the couch with a dramatic flourish of his dressing gown to have his back against them.
John opened his mouth. He shook his head, looking away from Sherlock. This left him to be looking at Danielle. She stiffened, uncomfortable. "Danielle-" He began.
"No thank you." She replied. She didn't want his apology, or any apology. It wouldn't feel real right now. He probably hadn't even wanted her to read the post. It was probably an invasion of privacy. So she wasn't even meant to read the blog. A cosmic fluke, leading to an awkward exchange.
John tried again. He turned away from Danielle, his eyes landing on Sherlock again. Something must have come over him when he saw his flatmate. He stood up from his chair, going to the door.
"John?" Danielle prompted.
"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked, glancing over his shoulder to John.
John picked up his jacket, throwing it on. "Out. I need some air." He went to storm out. He nearly barreled over Mrs Hudson. "'Scuse me, Mrs-"
"Oh, sorry, love!" Mrs Hudson apologized.
"Sorry." John apologized back, before storming out from 221b.
Danielle couldn't believe it.
She hadn't thought the gunshots would've led to John storming off. It made more sense if Sherlock and Danielle left with him, chasing after a case.
"Ooh-ooh!" Mrs Hudson walked into the flat. She was holding shopping bags.
Danielle shot up from her seat, eager to have something fill this terrible stillness. She walked over, taking one of the bigger bags.
"Oh thank you, dear." Mrs Hudson smiled.
Danielle smiled back, walking the bag to the kitchen.
"Have you three had a little domestic?" Mrs Hudson asked Sherlock.
Sherlock's answer was to stand up, and look dramatically out the window.
Danielle put the bag down on the least disgusting space. She thought about sorting all this out- how would she get around the rotting head in the fridge? How would she keep Mrs Hudson from seeing it, the older landlady didn't need to see that.
"Ooh, it's a bit nippy out there. He should have wrapped himself up a bit more." Mrs Hudson chided.
"Look at that, Mrs Hudson." He remarked. Danielle was unpacking the groceries. She pointedly ignored the stench of whatever he was cooking on the kitchen island. "Quiet, calm, peaceful." He sighed, disgusted. "Isn't it hateful?"
Mrs Hudson passed a second bag to Danielle. She smiled, before beginning to unpack that too. Mrs Hudson plucked out a receipt, walking it over to Sherlock.
"Oh, I'm sure something'll turn up, Sherlock. A nice murder– that'll cheer you up." Mrs Hudson assured.
"Can't come too soon." Sherlock replied, looking wistfully out the window.
Danielle smiled, shaking her head. She started putting things into the cupboards first.
"Hey. What've you done to my bloody wall?!"
Danielle snorted before she could stop herself. Commpunence! She cried out in her mind.
Across the room, Sherlock glanced her way with a quirked smile.
"I'm putting this on your rent, young man!" Mrs Hudson warmed before storming out the flat.
Danielle laughed when the door slammed shut. She turned to the living room. Sherlock was now standing in the middle of his flat. He was smiling at her, the proud little smile like he had just solved a murder.
"You're having fun." Sherlock noted.
"Yes, yes I am." It was freeing to laugh at something- anything. She hadn't realized she'd been a pent up ball of fear and anxiety until she laughed. Until she let herself laugh.
Sherlock mused.
Danielle laughed again. She walked closer, pointing a thumb to the kitchen. "What did you want with the frozens? I can't put them close to the head."
Sherlock smiled at her. She liked that smile. It wasn't his 'there's a murder' smile, or the one about getting a case. This was the smile she'd seen after John had shot someone, this little seen inside joke smile. Something fond and good that Sherlock had on his face, making one wonder how anyone can think he's a freak or a murderer when he has kind smiles like that.
She was the one of the few seeing it.
Because of a head in the fridge.
That got Danielle. She laughed again. She had just asked how to avoid putting food near a rotting head. How many other people got to say that? This life was insane and for all she was scared of it she loved it.
Sherlock was still smiling. "Oh just leave it out. The head will only be here tonight."
"Sherlock the stuff will rot if left out overnight-" Danielle explained while laughing.
Her joke was cut off by a huge explosion across the street. The windows of 221 blew out. Sherlock moved before Danielle could even scream, tackling her to the floor to avoid debris. He shielded Danielle with his taller frame. She clung to him, now terrified out of her mind.
==NKMHLY==
AN: I'm not actively trying to be mean. It just comes out like this. Can I truly be blamed?
...okay stop laughing. I know it's all me. I just love doing it.
Thanks to Twylaheart, villite, DawnoftheShadows, Yukatana, and Bluegirl-334, for favoriting
Thanks to Sci-fi and Magic, Twylaheart, Momochan77, Yukatana, Bluegirl-334, and TheDragonFace, for following