Crazy
I awoke to the smell of burning rubber.
I launched out of bed on instinct and shot out of the bedroom, mentally preparing myself for the worst. Oh God, what's happened now? I wondered nervously, as I turned the corner.
I nearly laughed at the ridiculous scene before me.
A pot on the stove was engulfed in flames, while a frazzled looking Sherlock Holmes darted about the ransacked kitchen. The smell of burning was stronger here and I covered my mouth, resisting the urge to gag. I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, but before I could, someone else did. A not so amused, John Watson.
"Sherlock, what the hell is going on here?!" John yelled, seeing the detective immediately when he entered the apartment. His hands were carrying three full grocery bags, and he was wearing a bright red sweater Mrs. Hudson had sown for him as a gift for Christmas. Crushed leaves littered his graying hair, leading me to believe that he had fallen on his trip home. All in all, John Watson looked downright comical.
I snickered, trying to silence the sound with my hands, though I knew John had heard it. He snapped his head to me and huffed in annoyance, before stomping over to where I was. I coughed then tried to conceal the smile on my face. Needless to say, I was unsuccessful.
"Do you think this is funny?" John asked, giving me a stern look. I shook my head, but felt a tickle of a laugh climbing up my throat. Up close, I could see that John had dries bits of dirt in his hair along with the leaves, maximizing my temptation to laugh.
John growled in irritation, turning to look at Sherlock then back to me.
"No wonder you two like each other, you both act like children. And Sherlock, why must you always try to destroy the house when I'm away?" John huffed in exasperation, plopping the groceries onto the floor when he realized there was no room on the table.
"Don't worry John. I have everything under control." Sherlock said, dashing about the kitchen, searching for something. "It was just a little miscalculation. Ugh. How could I have been so stupid!?" Sherlock yelled, gripping his hair in frustration.
I erupted into laughter after seeing the gaping patch of singed hair on his head. Tears ran down my face and I held my side, as John and Sherlock stared at me like I had grown two heads. Which I bet, Sherlock would have liked. Sherlock rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, no doubt, a deduction about my behavior. John turned back to the flaming stovetop and rushed over to extinguish the flame.
"Look at what you've done John. You've ruined the experiment." Sherlock whined, after John had doused the flame in water. John turned to Sherlock with a glare.
"Ruined the experiment? I just saved our lives, Mr. Pyromaniac." John growled, gritting his teeth. I continued with my laughter, the image of Sherlock's hair burned into my brain.
"And what were you burning for this so called 'experiment'?" John asked, glancing into the now blackened, pot. His eyes went wide and he glanced over at me with a strange expression. I stopped laughing long enough to choke out
"What?"
John looked at Sherlock, then back at the pot, before chuckling. He shook his head and clasped Sherlock on the shoulder.
"I'm letting you handle this one Sherlock." He snickered, making his way to the door.
"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked, a glimmer of dare I say, fear in his eyes? The door clicked shut, leaving me and Sherlock alone. I had finally stopped my hysterics and stood straight up, now curious as to what John was looking at.
"Don't you have some idiotic female activities to be performing?" Sherlock asked, trying to block the oven from my view. That made me all the more curious, and a bit suspicious. I crossed my arms over my chest and fixed Sherlock with a stern look.
"Sherlock, move." I demanded, authority in my voice. Sherlock scoffed and didn't move an inch. I sighed deeply before clicking my tongue.
Sherlock, if you do not move I will flush your phone down the toilet." I threatened. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
"I can purchase a new one." He retorted.
"But you won't. You hate change. It would drive you crazy." I smirked, seeing a glimmer of despair in Sherlock's eyes.
"Now move." I commanded, grinding my teeth. To my surprise, Sherlock listened to me, and glided to the side. I stepped forward and peered inside the kitchen utensil.
Once I realized what Sherlock had been hiding, I swiftly turned on my heel to face him.
"Sherlock!" I yelled, seeing the consulting detective dart into the living room. I stomped after him, leaving behind me, the pot in which he had tried to cook my favorite pair of boots.
Author's Note: Song; Crazy, by Cee-Lo Green…. Also I hope you enjoyed!