Summary: John Watson has to deal with an extremely bored consulting detective how wreaks havoc not only at 221B Bakerstreet but wherever else he can. Friendship and Discipline.
Disclaimer: No, sadly, it is not mine.
„Sherlock, I brought… what are you doing with my computer?"
"I needed to check something and my computer was… oh, look he's right over there." Sherlock grinned innocently and pointed at his own laptop not two feet away.
John put the bags down and strode over to Sherlock. He closed his laptop with more force than necessary, nearly crushing Sherlock's fingers. The consulting detective glared at him and flopped onto the couch.
"We've been over this, Sherlock. You are not allowed to use my computer without asking for it first." John opened the laptop again and began writing the newest entry for his blog.
"You didn't answer your phone."
John sighted exasperatedly and fished his mobile out of his pocket. He checked his missed calls while Sherlock was looking at him in anticipation. "You never called me."
If possible Sherlock's grin widened even more. "I didn't say I did, but I bet you didn't answer either."
John rolled his eyes and decided to ignore the consulting detective. They hadn't had a case in a few days and Sherlock was positively giddy with boredom. Nothing good could come from interacting with him if he was in that mood.
A few minutes passed in silence before Sherlock spoke up again. "Why are you texting Mycroft about me?"
John didn't even look up from his work. "Hm?"
"Here. 'How he's doing? He's bored.' You sent that. 'You didn't leave the flat immediately and found a safe place to stay for a few days?' That was Mycroft. You texted him a smiley, John, a smiley. Is my boredom just fun to you? Don't you see that I suffer?"
"How do you… hey!" Sherlock was currently holding John's phone hostage. The doctor was a hundred percent sure that Sherlock hadn't moved from the couch but he had somehow acquired the phone. John snatched it back. "Would you please leave my stuff alone?" He rubbed his temples tiredly. Sherlock was clearly not the only one who had to suffer when he was bored.
Sherlock huffed. "Fine. If my presence here isn't welcome I will find something else to do!" He brushed John on his way out.
John muttered "Thank god" as he watched Sherlock entering the kitchen. He enjoyed the few short minutes of peace that followed before he was reached by a nauseating smell. "Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?"
He heard Sherlock yell "Nothing!" followed by a coughing fit. Dark smoke came from the kitchen a few seconds later.
John entered the kitchen against his better judgment. Sherlock had apparently put something in the microwave that shouldn't have been in there. He observed the consulting detective take something out with a pair of tweezers that was colored exactly the same way as the shirt John was currently wearing.
"Did you cut that out of my shirt?" John prayed that the answer was no, but what hope was there?
"Maybe?" Sherlock put the fabric into the sink and turned the water on.
John examined his shirt and found the missing bit of fabric on the back. "What the hell is wrong with you, Sherlock?" He grabbed his arm and dragged him forcefully into the living room. "You can't use me as your personal guinea pig when you are bored."
"Hey, you nearly never wear that shirt. I choose it because you only wear it at home, never when going out. Why should a small bit of missing fabric distress you?" Sherlock yanked his arm free and rubbed the spot where John had grabbed him. He sometimes forgot how strong the former army doctor was.
John exhaled very slowly. He pointed at the door to Sherlock's room. "Get in there!"
Sherlocks eyes narrowed. "You can't send me to my room. I'm not a child!"
"You behave like one. If you can't learn to behave like an adult when you're bored do whatever you have to do in your room!" John put special emphasis on the last three words.
The two men continued to glare at each other, they kept glaring…. and glaring… Sherlock frowned at John, swirled around and retreated to his room. He closed the door with a loud bang.
John smiled when he heard a muffled voice through the door: "You sound like Mycroft!"
"Don't talk. I don't want to hear or see you again before you've calmed down! Is that understood?" John didn't rightly expect an answer.
John worked in silence for the next two hours. He was quite surprised that he hadn't heard from Sherlock during that time and decided to pay him a visit. He was however greeted with an empty room and an open window. "I am so going to kill him!" He grabbed his phone to call the wayward consulting detective when a different caller ID was shown, Lestrade.
"Greg? Hi. He did what? Where is he? Yes thank you, I'll be there in a bit."
A/N.: Now, what do you think? Looking forward to another chapter? I am looking forward to your review. If you don't know what to write, just write 'awesome story'. If you want to tell me more, I always appreciate it when people tell me what they liked most and where they see potential for improvement.