Off Limits - S.H.

The Great Game - Part 1

Y/N and John were chatting idly about their last case. The twins had bumped into each other just outside of 221b, both coming home from work. Y/N opened the door, and she and John froze as the sound of gunshots rang out. Instincts kicking in, John pushed past his sister, running up the stairs to see Sherlock sitting in his armchair, gun in hand.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He yelled as Y/N came up behind him, still cautious.

"Bored," Sherlock grumbled.

"What?" John questioned more quietly, squinting in disbelief.

"Bored!" Sherlock said loudly, springing up from his chair. John and Y/N recoiled, covering their ears as the detective fired at the smiley face painted on the wall. "Bored!" He exclaimed again, swinging his arm around and shooting at the wall from behind his back. "Bored!" John hurried into the room, snatching the pistol from Sherlock's hand. "Don't know what's got into the criminal classes." He sulked, walking towards the sofa.

"Well, good thing you're not one of them." Y/N entered the flat warily. John slid the clip out of the gun, locking it in the safe on the dining table. "Why take it out on the wall?"

"Oh, the wall had it coming." Sherlock sighed, tracing his fingers across the painted smile before dramatically flopping down on the sofa.

"What about that Russian case?" John questioned, removing his coat.

Sherlock pushed with his feet to shove himself into a more upright position. "Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time."

"Oh, shame." John quipped sarcastically, exchanging glances with his sister. He walked into the kitchen, throwing his arms up in despair at the mess on the table.

Y/N headed towards the lanky man lying on the sofa. "Oi. Square up." Sherlock pulled his legs up so she could sit, immediately draping them over hers as she sat down. Y/N glared at him, but he just smiled innocently. She rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed despite the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Turning her head away, she rested her hands by Sherlock's knees, absently fiddling with the fabric of his pyjama trousers.

"A severed head!" John called out suddenly from the kitchen.

"Just tea for me, thanks," Sherlock said, causing Y/N to giggle. His smile widened as he heard her laugh, deciding that was his new favourite sound.

John walked back into the living room. "No, there's a head in the fridge."

"Yes."

"A bloody head!"

"Well, where else was I supposed to put it?" Sherlock said stroppily, looking around at John. "You don't mind, do you?"

"So, what's the experiment this time?" Y/N asked. John glanced despairingly between his sister and best friend.

"Measuring the coagulation of saliva after death." He replied before vaguely gesturing towards the open laptop on the table as he addressed John. "I see you've written up the taxi driver case."

John threw one last glance at the fridge before sitting down in Sherlock's armchair. "Uh, yes."

"I liked it. 'A Study in Pink'." Y/N chuckled. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

John sent his sister a smile, turning to Sherlock who had picked up a magazine from the coffee table. "Did you like it?"

"Erm, no."

"Why not? I thought you'd be flattered."

"Flattered?" Sherlock lowered the magazine, glaring at John. "'Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things.'"