Good news: ANOTHER CHAPTER! :D:D

Bad news: I'm disappearing for a week :( stupid surprise family weddings

So this is going to be my last update until sometime next Sunday :'(

It's wednesday now. And if this were me, I'm pretty sure I would have moved out straight after finding the head. Although with Benedict Cumberbatch there, maybe not...

Please enjoy!

oOo

Wednesday -

Ok. Ok. Don't worry, don't fret and don't appear anxious. Step through the door, carefully, check the ceiling. Good, no knives. Check the fridge. Good, still only a head in there. Ok, it's fine, everything's fine, everything is totally safe and fine...

John jumped out of his skin when a sickening crack sounded from the window. He shot a look towards the source of the sound – which could only be described as a gunshot – and watched as Sherlock fired yet another bullet into the wall.

Glancing at said wall now, John's mind went round in circles as he tried to comprehend all of this.

Not only was Sherlock shooting his gun into the wall, he was shooting, with perfect accuracy, a smiley face. A bloody smiley face!

Bang!

"Evening John. How was work?"

Bang!

Snapping, John bounded across the room and snatched the gun out of his hand.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?".

Sherlock looked between John and the wall with a confused frown, "What does it look like?".

Muttering, John put the gun back on the table, "Leave the gun, and the wall, alone Sherlock. Take your boredom out on something else, like a case for instance! Or maybe you could use it to drive a complete tidy up of this room, it's like a hurricane hit!". John was going to go on, but the Consulting Detective had already walked past him, striding towards the stairs before leaping up them two at a time.

Two minutes later, John heard Sherlock's bedroom door bang shut.

He sighed, looking around. How had he gotten into this again? Oh yeah, because he's a easily excited fool who misses the thrill of war.

Mumbling to himself, John shoved some of the mess aside, trying to make it look slightly clearer. He then approached the windows, making to close the curtains when his eyes fell on a clear box sitting on the windowsill. He peered closer, not believing what he was seeing, and then stumbled backwards when he saw that it definitely was.

Clearing his throat, he stepped away a few more steps before shouting, pouring every ounce of anger into his tone, "Sherlock! Is that a TARANTULA!".

There was a pause from upstairs, before a muffled voice answered back loudly but calmly.

"No"

There was another moment of silence, in which John rolled his eyes. And then,

"Wait, A tarantula? How many are there?".

John looked around sarcastically, before glancing back at the box, shaking his head, Why the hell did he have a tarantula in the bloody living room?. He cupped his hands around his mouth, "There's one you idiot! Did you not even look at what you were bringing in here!".

"Ah". It was indistinguishably Sherlock's tone of consideration and realisation.

There was another pause, and John suddenly felt a pit of dread filling in his stomach, Sherlock's next words already coming into his head. And sure enough, there they were, spoken out loud through the ceiling,

"John, I'd watch where you're stepping".

oOo

:D This was my favourite one to write so far :D I hope you have enjoyed it as much as me!

Review, pretty, pretty, pretty please (with a million cherries and your preferred sauce). Oh and I'll bring you back a souvinier :D

Also I'd like to say HUGE THANK YOUS to my lovely super amazing reviewers (and all you readers who DON'T review) and I am hugging you ALL right now :D:D see you in a week!