I think I need some help... if anyone could order me a Sherlock and Watson and send them to me I'm pretty sure that I'll recover and will be happy again in no time :P

Enjoy... I'm strange and this is stranger lol




A Pink Apron? Part 1



(John's POV)

I think he grows tired of us you know? Of people and life in general. I mean, there are days when he'll barely string two words together and when he does they're normally part of some hare-brained plan he has about some new and questionable experiment he's planning on bloody doing!

I don't know whether or not he sees it but I do worry about him; boy do I worry. He's a fully grown man whose hand-to-hand combat skills are brilliant and his aim with a Browning is rival to mine, but you can't leave him alone in a room because he'll do something that'll cause an explosion; trust me on that one, and he can't be left to his own devices because he'll most likely die of malnutrition; once again trust me on that one.

It's beyond confounding then when he walked up to me just after I'd got back from the surgery, wearing a pink apron, and happily declared that dinner was ready. Dinner? Him? Wait, a pink apron?

Who is he and where is the real highly-functioning sociopath I've come to partially know and completely love?

It's beyond inconceivable but here he is waiting room me to sit down before he'll sit at the dining table; not the little-desky thing in the sitting area, but the actual dinner table. I'm starting to get worried now.

I don't know if this is one of Sherlock's sick and twisted experiment to test my responses or if he's genuinely trying to be nice to me; or it could be that the nicotine patches have finally sent him to high heaven and he's completely stoned? It could be any of those I suppose; he is Sherlock after all.

But I still can't get my head around the pink apron, and I don't know whether or not that's a good or bad thing.

"Sherlock?" I ask rather timidly although I'll never admit that since I'm an ex-soldier and all; you shouldn't be timid and afraid of a civilian. Well, unless they're as certifiable as Sherlock and can fire a gun at the wall in the shape of an almost perfect smiley face without even looking properly.

"Yes John!" Sherlock exclaims and now I'm really really scared; he's not looking at me with his look of 'must-I-answer-your-mundane-questions-from-your-insignificant-mind?' but it's more a look of polite, and maybe a little bit too intense, curiosity that he's giving me that's making me want to be on the other side of the room.

But I'm an ex-soldier so I won't make a tactical retreat just yet, I'll let my natural curiosity get the better of me; damn my curiosity!

"Um, not to sound ungrateful or anything but... what the hell is all of this?" I say hurriedly looking between my fidgeting hand on the table top and Sherlock's falling face. Oh damn it, I've hurt him.

I can see him hesitating now, it's fleeting and most people wouldn't have noticed it but I'm not most people; no, I'm the person who's just hurt his feelings because my brain functions on a level way lower down than Sherlock's does. Damnit to hell!

"I-" Sherlock hesitates again and I can now distinctly see the change in him; he's closing off his feelings now and I just know that he's going to answer with some intentionally insensitive and dismissive remark, "I was curious as to see the reaction someone as oblivious as you would have to the sight of myself preparing dinner; however you were late so I had to serve it instead of simply prepare it," slight barb there; not my fault I had a patient that wouldn't take no for an answer, literally.

That's Sherlock isn't it, and now he's going to stand up, take off that bloody apron, drag me up and kiss me-

Wait. No. I don't think he's going to go that far, and he doesn't which sort of disappoints me really. He walks off into the sitting area and throws himself onto the sofa, facing away from me. Childish? Definitely. Does it show how much I've hurt him? Yes.

There's no-one else like Sherlock Holmes and I don't think I'd ever want a cheap imitation of such a great man; he's one of a kind and I don't care if it makes me sound like a star-struck little fan-girl (or is it fan-man?) because I love him.

I love Sherlock Holmes. And I've just hurt his feelings because I'm average and boring.

Damn it to hell!




I do believe I'll be doing another section to this (maybe as Sherlock) and for some reason I keep on spelling Sherlock as Sherlcok (hehe).

I don't own these guys (if I did then every fan would love me because I'd do EVERYTHING the BBC only hints at... ;p)

Please review.