Chapter 2
There's nothing to do
"Lestrade seemed pleased that this one was over with." John said placing his coat neatly over a chair and heading straight for the fridge. He placed his hand upon the fridge door and turned to face Sherlock who was lying on the sofa…bored already that he had no case to work on. "You did get rid of that head didn't you, from out of the fridge?" He hesitated waiting for Sherlock's answer. He heard his flatmate sigh before giving him the answer.
"Don't worry it's perfectly safe." Sherlock said sighing at John- he often got on his nerves sometimes.
"Great." John swung open the fridge and grabbed the cheese, he hadn't had anything to eat all day, Sherlock had dragged him out of bed and made him catch a taxi to Scotland Yard and inform Lestrade on events from the previous case. "Do you want any dinner?" He offered calling into the living room. Sherlock didn't so much as sigh, he shut his eyes slowly as if shutting himself out from the world (and shutting himself out from John's constant un-wanted chatter.) Waiting with the bread in his hand, John tilted his head towards the living room and eyed Sherlock who lay motionless on the sofa. "I take that as no then."
John slouched into the opposite sofa and tucked into his cheese on toast whilst Sherlock loaded his gun in silence. "What are you doing that for now?" He asked Sherlock as he watched his hands dance around the gun like lightening. Sherlock looked up sharply and pulled a face.
"Bored." He made the word last long and then he turned his attention back to loading the gun.
"Oh no, don't you be taking it out on the wall- we've already got to pay extra for the last time you did it!" John scolded as he remembered running up the stairs to 221B to the sound of gun shots. Mrs Hudson was not too pleased.
"There's nothing to do around here!" Sherlock growled slamming his fist against the sofa and rolling his eyes. John was used this kind of behaviour from him now and so he chose to ignore him. "Look at you, sitting there without a care in the world, your little brain ticking away, well mine is not that easy to entertain, it's rotting John it's rotting! I need another case, can I use your phone to call Lestrade?" His words were so forced and irritated that John shook his head and pushed his phone deeper into his pocket. Sherlock had to learn that he was no longer going to be a push over.
"Did you disinfect the fridge after you disposed the head?" He asked with panic. Sherlock's face was emotionless.
"No, why?" He replied innocently. John's face went white as he spat out his food and glared at Sherlock.
"Blooming hell Sherlock!"