Hello and welcome back everyone! I have received some very interesting and ingenious prompts. I am working through them and, as A Game of Flirting is nearly finished, I can work on them more :D Now, this one is a prompt from the always wonderful MorbidbyDefault. With this one, I wanted to do something a little…different, something unexpected and it got me thinking in the classic 'Sherlock-thinking-pose'. It was actually my brother who gave me the idea. He said 'how are you going to write a fan fiction about computers and keep it interesting?' I never even thought about THAT. xx Gotta love my nerd! Anyway, I hope you like this 'different' idea ;)… xx

Prompt - Windows

221B Baker Street wasn't exactly equipped with the most advanced technology in the world, it had what was necessary and that seemed to satisfy its occupants. John Watson owned a laptop which suited his work and blogging needs. Sherlock Holmes would hack into every now and again - no matter how many times John changed his password he still found a way into it - and e-mail various people, including the Inspector, his mother and, much to John's annoyance, Molly Hooper, his flatmate's 'pathologist'. John wouldn't mind as such, if Sherlock would delete these e-mails after he sent them. But noooo…he just has to leave them right there for John to casually read. He should have known what he was in for as he read Molly's username as RidingCropKitty79. Seriously, what is wrong with them? I think I preferred it when she was more direct. There was something catchy about HornyHooper3. He had returned from work one evening and found Sherlock sat at the laptop, his hands propped under his chin, frowning at the computer screen. It was an all too familiar sight for John, who wasn't expecting it back tonight. He was just thankful he had confiscated the webcam…

John sank into the sofa and switched the TV on, ignoring the irritated groan from Sherlock. Every now and again, John heard the distinctive sound of tapping, followed by a single click and an exaggerated sigh after the inbox alert sounded. John wished he would go over there already and leave him in peace. It seems he had gotten his wish, for Sherlock stood up and strode into his room, emerging a moment later, something that looked like a bottle tucked into his jacket. He stopped before the door, pulling on his coat, casting a quick glance towards John.

"I'm going out. No need to wait up…if things go to plan I will not be sleeping tonight. In fact-"

"Yeah, thanks Sherlock, jeez."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at his friend, who was currently experiencing a 'dry spell'. John hadn't exactly told him this and he smiled to himself as he left the flat. John looked over at his laptop before shaking his head and turning back to the TV. He couldn't stop himself as he walked over to the laptop, sitting down and seeing Sherlock hadn't even logged out. John frowned as he saw the first email was from Mycroft.

UmbrellaBoy11: Firstly, I do not appreciate you changing my username at every opportunity. It is not considered mature, Sherlock. Secondly, you cannot ignore me forever, you know. It is no fault of mine of your lack of discretion. Personally, I do not care where you and your *ahem* 'friend' carry out your 'activities'. My only concern is for Molly. After all, it is only a matter of time before your newly discovered 'primal desires' have grown tiresome. Anyway, the information you informed me about the Tyler Harrison murder was invaluable. I thank you, brother.

John scowled at this message, clicking back furiously on the tab. So, he solved the Tyler Harrison murder, did he? I wonder when he was going to tell me that. I've been elbow deep in old medical files for the past three nights. Grumbling, John sighed as he opened a minimised browser. It was an online chat room…one connecting TheConsultingDetective and RidingCropKitty79. Every part was telling him this was a bad idea, but this was the only time he got to spy on his friend. Gritting his teeth, he scrolled to the top of the page. Oh, why am I even doing this? He breathed a sigh of relief when he read the first few lines. Maybe they're behaving themselves.

RidingCropKitty79: Sherlock? Is that you?

TheConsultingDetective: Yes.

RidingCropKitty79: Oh, how are you?

TheConsultingDetective: Fine.

RidingCropKitty79: What are you doing?

TheConsultingDetective: Talking to you on John's laptop.

RidingCropKitty79: Oh, for God's sake, Sherlock.

TheConsultingDetective: What?

RidingCropKitty79: Well, are we just going to sit here having the world's most boring conversation or are you going to get over here and show me why my username is so?

TheConsultingDetective: That is tempting…

RidingCropKitty79: You want more temptation…

TheConsultingDetective: No. I do not think it necessary.

RidingCropKitty79: Then what is it?

TheConsultingDetective: Mycroft.

RidingCropKitty79: I'm not inviting him over.

TheConsultingDetective: Jokes never have been your strongest asset.

RidingCropKitty79: Look, I've had a long, hard day and I just want to relax. You gonna help or not?

John hoped beyond hope they had moved past the 'long and hard' innuendo. He couldn't count the number of times he had come across this in one of their escapades…

TheConsultingDetective: Of course. If you've had a long, hard day, I suggest a hot bath and some chocolate.

RidingCropKitty79: Now who's making jokes.

TheConsultingDetective: I do not think it wise.

RidingCropKitty79: I understand. Did I mention the heating system is broken again? Yeah, happened this morning. I'm just sitting here, hot, sticky and sweaty and stroking this riding crop I found. It's getting pretty hot over here…my work clothes are certainly not suitable. There's a problem, though. It cannot seem to get them off on my own. What should I do?

Their conversation seemed to have ended here and John assumed this was where Sherlock had left to go 'assist' Molly. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. It was getting late and he had work in the morning. John was just getting ready to shut the laptop down when he noticed a flashing icon at the bottom of the screen. It was the signal for a video message. John, thinking it was from Mycroft or Mummy Holmes, he opened it without thought. Oh, what a mistake that was…

John had never been grateful the sound on his laptop didn't work until now, for he was sure it wouldn't have been pleasant. In this video, Sherlock's hands were on Molly's hips smoothing soft circles, whilst gripping tightly. He was resting his head against her chest as he kissed her neck and down her front. Molly's head was thrown back and her hands were gripping his hair tightly, pulling it hard as she began to move vigorously. John buried his face in his hands and tried to close the box. His eyes wandered to a red button in the top corner and he gaped in horror. The recording button. It was live. This is all I need. This is all I fucking need. Mr. Sexually Repressed rubbing it in my face… John gave up trying to close it and instead slammed the laptop closed and trudged to his bedroom.

It was in that moment; John decided he really hated technology.

I really hope you liked that one. Thank you so much to MorbidbyDefault for the prompt and thank you to you guys for reading this…probably awful story, lol! xx Stay tuned and I'll be back soon xx