Anyone would tell you that John Watson had the patience of a saint, considering the man he lived with. However, every man has his breaking point.
"You are nothing but a freak, a psychotic freak. Everyone hates you. God knows what you must have done to keep your little pet around." Anderson said.
John bristled at being referred to as Sherlock's "pet". He would have let the comment slide, had it not been for what he saw on Sherlock's face.
Many people who knew Sherlock assumed that he was emotionless, cold, but they never took the time to really know him. However, John was his best friend, so he recognized that Sherlock had emotions, but kept them hidden with walls blocking them. Although, every once a while, a small crack would appear in the wall.
Sherlock winced slightly at Anderson's words. Anyone else would have missed it, but John wasn't anyone. That was what made him walk right up to Anderson and punch him square in the face.
"I'm his friend because I want to be, but a man of your microscopic intellect wouldn't understand." he said, looking down at Anderson. He stalked away, a very surprised Sherlock beside him. As angry as John was, he chuckled as Sherlock spoke beside him.
"I hope that leaves one hell of a bruise."
Author's Note: I guess this one is pre-slash? Suggestions, reviews, and the like are, as always, appreciated :D