"You know what, love?"
Jim threw down his pen in irritation, scowling as a thin stream of ink spurted out like fresh blood.
Sherlock smiled, amused, passing his husband a tissue.
"What, Jim?" The Irishman rubbed his forehead in annoyance. "That Olivia Collins!" Sherlock nodded sagely. "Ah, yes. What's she done now?"
"Urgh!" Jim made a vague swatting gesture. "She's just so infuriating! She's written a page of this... Utter drivel! She's supposed to be analysing Shakespeare's genius, not telling me exactly how she would have gone about writing the plays herself! She's ruined Romeo and Juliet! Just look!"
Sherlock scanned the wrinkled sheet of paper, covered in scrawling biro and Jim's careful scarlet annotations.
"'I think Romeo and Tybalt should have got together, because Juliet was an utter drip who did nothing to help herself'?" Sherlock read out with a snigger.
"It's not funny, you bastard! That play is a masterpiece, Collins has destroyed it for me forever!" Jim sighed dramatically, staring at the red ink on his fingers in distaste.
Sherlock bit his lip to stifle a laugh. "Sorry, darling. I know Shakespeare means a lot to you..." Jim pouted. "Yes, well..." "And I agree with you that this Collins girl may be secretly Satan..."
The English teacher grinned. "Yeah, she is! She asked if I was even qualified to teach English, 'cause I'm Irish! And she refuses to spell 'definitely' right; she uses 'defiantly'. Every single time! She knows they're different things, she's just doing it to piss me off!"
Sherlock smiled indulgently, passing Jim a mug of coffee.
"Why don't you give her an F and be done with it?"
Jim took a long slurp of his drink. "Fine..." He sulked.
Sherlock smirked.
"And perhaps I can ask my chemistry class to help prepare an... accident, shall we say?"