"SHERLOCK I NEED TO GET READY FOR MY DATE I HAVE NO TIME FOR YOUR CHILDISH ANTICS BEHAVE AND NO CIGARETTES!"
Sherlock paced around the room restlessly, flicking his lighter on and off. He felt like he was missing something. He had an itch under his skin. His frustrations just kept building and building and he was going absolutely mad.
Victoria chased the man around her room, trying to take the lighter away from him before he caught something on fire, not that Sherlock paid any mind to her at all. She was sure that he wasn't even aware that she was following him.
His brain was going a mile a minute. She could practically see his eyes searching through all his thoughts and the information he had gathered.
Sherlock continued to flick his lighter with his long, nimble fingers. He always looked like he was playing the violin when he used his fingers. He switched the lighter to his other hand and flexed his fingers, the silent violin music stopping momentarily.
Why would a little boy go to the police and lie about being abused by his parents?
Sherlock had seen the parents and it was obvious that they wouldn't do such a thing.
Abuse in the family aside from the parents? No. The boy has no signs of any abuse.
Television and video games influencing his fragile, young mind? No. He lived a sheltered life and went to a private school. He wouldn't have the opportunity.
Would he learn something from a friend? Sherlock had seen the children interacting with each other in Victoria's classroom and...
Victoria has always seemed like the type that would work well with children. She was patient with him. She took care of him. She was so comforting. Even her smell was comforting. She smelled like... Something he couldn't put his finger on. She smelled like a memory, like a river full of flowers in autumn or like-FOCUS!
Children in a classroom. Children in a classroom. What had he seen in the boys classroom? What had he seen in Victoria's classroom?
Her classroom was just like her. Chaotic sunshine and-
That woman was going to be the end of him. He was already having a hard time focusing. Her scent and her warmth were not welcome during his time of weakness.
"THATS ENOUGH SHERLOCK YOU ARE A DANGER TO YOURSELF AND MY FLAT AND I AM NOT ABOUT TO LET YOU BURN EVERYTHING DOWN I AM GOING TO RUN OUT OF TIME SHERLOCK LISTEN TO ME!"
Sherlock could hear her nagging but ignored it. He had more important things to focus on. Important things like lying children and long blonde hair that-
"Oof!" Sherlock let out a grunt as Victoria elbowed his gut while she attempted to snatch the lighter from his hand.
He rose his hand slightly higher than hers, evading her grasp effortlessly.
"Honestly, Victoria, can't you just leave me be!" Sherlock turned on his heel and walked into her living room. "In case you didn't notice, I am trying to think. Or did your less than brilliant mind seem to miss that while you worried about an inanimate object that I have full control over and the date that you have no reason to worry about since it's not honest or worth a thought?"
Victoria rolled her eyes at his temper, "Whether or not you're thinking or in a foul mood or just here to completely drive me insane, ultimately, this is my apartment and I have a strict No Buttheads Allowed policy." She rose her hand and tried to reach for the lighter that he held in a fist risen above his head.
Their chests pressed together, crisp button up against fluffy robe, and they locked eyes.
"If you have a strict No Buttheads Allowed policy, as you say you do, then I don't see how you could enter your own flat," Sherlock said, his tone smooth and unrevealing.
"Sherlock Holmes, you did not just call me a butthead-"
"I'm surprised you were quick enough to catch that."
"-Not in my own flat after you stunk up the place with your butthead."
"I would also like to mention that this isn't the first time that you've called me a butthead-"
"Nor is it the last!"
"-but it is the first time that you have mentioned this so-called policy of yours. Now, you've either been breaking your own rules for me this whole time or lying about at least one thing."
Sherlock twisted his wrist away from her small fingers as the tried to pry open the palm of his hand only to have her twist her wrist with his. He rose up his other hand to switch the lighter into that hand, but Victoria grabbed ahold of his hand and tried to pull it back down.
"You can't do that! It's cheating!" Victoria accused as their keep away game became more aggressive. He pulled his hand away and she tried to grab the hand that held the lighter with both of her hands. He twisted to the side to get away from her and she wrapped one of her legs around one of his, trying to take him to the ground and knowing that the only way to win was to take his height away from him.
They rolled and squirmed on the ground, laughing and crying out as they shouted hollow insults at each other and fought for the lighter.
Sherlock had Victoria's arms pinned to the ground over her head with one of his hands, the other hand hiding behind his back with the lighter. Victoria had a leg wrapped around his waist, trying to knock the lighter out of his hand with her foot.
And that was the position they were found in when John Watson opened the door to Victoria's flat with Charlie in tow.