So this is my first Sherlock Holmes story. The only reason this was born was because I had writer's block while working on chapter three of The Melodramas of Life and thought a temporary dive into another fandom would help. Oh, and yes, this is slash. It say's in my profile that I would be writing slash.

Disclaimer: As I've mentioned various times before, I'm only thirteen and there's no way I'm awesome enough to own this. I can only hope for RDJ for my birthday (which just so happens to be in a few months!)

Anyways... Enjoy! :D


Watson's fury could only grow as Holmes gazed up at him with innocent eyes. Once again, the scrawny detective had managed to kill his dog with one of his experiments and it was beginning to get annoyingly tedious. He could feel his blood pressure rising to dangerous levels and a vein was throbbing somewhere near his temple. He swore he was going to murder Holmes if one of his many misadventures didn't get him first.

"It appears that Gladstone has managed to find my special chemical. But I'm sure He'll be fine, these are relatively harmless." Holmes said this with eloquence of someone commenting on the weather.

"And exactly how do you know they're 'relatively harmless'?" Watson asked, though he had a close idea as to Holmes' knowledge of the 'relative harmlessness of certain liquids/objects.

At his question, Sherlock took a slight step back and said, "From your expression I deduce you are already privy to this information."

Watson snapped. He had it and with half a mind to wrap his hands around Sherlock's neck, he lunged towards the smaller man who in turn side-stepped him. However, before Holmes could make his next move, Watson grabbed his wrist, pulled him closer, and began to furiously shake him.

"Damn it, Holmes! Not only do you kill my dog every few hours, but you also steal my clothes, keep me awake in the night playing the violin, shoot holes into the walls, making me worry by putting yourself in mortal danger, proceed to do the same thing to me, and God dammit Holmes I've yet to figure out why I put up with all this nonsense!" Watson took a deep breath and released a slightly dizzy Holmes, but continued to glare at him.

"Why, my dear Watson, your reason for tolerance is quite obvious." Then, with a straight face, Holmes fluttered his lashes at him and said in a high-pitched voice (supposedly to sound like a woman), "You love me to much to leave me."

Watson's heavy glare darkened before becoming a reluctant grin.

"Fine, you got me." And with that they went to look for a time machine to go to the future and inform Tony Stark and Steve Rogers of the reason they put up with each other.


So that's my first Sherlock Holmes story. Meh I guess it's okay. And I know how weird and random the last part is but I felt it nessecary. I'm going to finish Rebel Fire now. It's an awesome book about Shirly's adventures when he's fourteen. The second in a series by Andrew Lane. Did I mention how awesome it is? Ya...

I don't really care if you review this one, but it would be appriciated.