Discovered (Johnlock Fanfiction)

Chapter One

A/N: Just a friendly reminder I am still hopelessly American, so please correct my rubbish attempts to seem British, sorry.

"Just get the damn milk, Sherlock!" John spat at me, fuming. Apparently I don't get the milk too much, and he wanted me to go out and get it today.

"What makes today different from any other day I didn't get the milk? Because that happens a lot. Every time, actually." I honestly couldn't understand why he was being so loud. I never got the milk; I probably never would.

"Well, maybe today I'm tired of having to do everything around here!" John was practically shouting at me. "You never clean, you never get the groceries or anything that we need, hell I even wash your clothes for you! This has got to stop, starting with getting the milk. Go."

I know that little speech of sorts was supposed to get me to get up, but all it accomplished was getting me to start laughing. It started off as an inaudible chuckle and a slight smile, and grew until I was cackling, fighting for breath and clutching my chest. Apparently, John wasn't as amused as I was.

"What the hell, Sherlock!" John was furious. "Stop that damned laughing and get the hell up!" Still burdened with uncontrollable laughing, I only shook my head.

I took a few moments to compose myself, and once I could talk again I said, still breathing heavily, "I'm not getting the milk. You can be as pissy as you want, but I don't want to go out, so I'm staying here. Have a nice time." I gave John a smug grin before getting up and walking into my room. After I closed the door, I heard John muttering to himself; I could only hear when he occasionally shouted words or phrases. He was obviously pissed off.

"Of course...Mister Perfect...murder case...not getting it next time..." I heard John slam the door on his way out of the flat.

Normally, I'm always this rude to John, but something felt weird about today. I felt almost bad that I made John so mad, but I didn't know why. It felt strange, having thoughts of repentance, but I dismissed it.

I waited a minute after he left to make sure he didn't forget anything to come back out of my room and plop myself right back where I was on my chair. Since John was angry, he would be walking, so I calculated that it would take him about 8 minutes to get to the shop, 14.5 minutes to purchase the milk and any other groceries we may need, and 8.5 minutes to return home with said groceries. I checked the time, and with my remaining 29 minutes I went into my Mind Palace, making sure I kept track of the time.

I traipsed around the vast corridors of my Mind Palace, turning into the one labelled People Information. I walked right past the Work Colleagues room before stopping in my tracks and returning. I had all of the files on the people I most dealt with at Scotland Yard, including Anderson. There were some intriguing files in there...maybe I could take a look at them.

One file and ten minutes later, I walked out of the room, chortling. Continuing down the hall, I passed many rooms, from my family to John's friends. The last and biggest room in the corridor had the name John Watson written in gold letters similar to that of the 221B on the door to our flat. Walking inside, I noticed that the handle was beginning to get worn from going in and out so often. I went in there almost daily, always filing new information on him, his facial expressions, his emotions. Because I lived with him, I needed to take note of everything he did, so I knew how to deduce him more in depth than others. I walked to the biggest filing cabinet and opened the draw labelled Angry. Inside, I added a note about his sensitivity to milk. I had neglected to note this previously, but that was because I hadn't cared until a short while ago. 

After I finished, I continued to look through the abundance of papers I had on John, paying special attention on how to apologize and look sincere about it, until I realized he would be home soon. I left my Mind Palace quickly and checked the time. He should have been home around five minutes ago, but I didn't worry. I didn't take into account the fact that he may have taken a diversion to the park to kick something when he was angry, or gotten into another row with a chip and pin machine. I decided that I was going to make him some tea when he got back. I stood and walked into the kitchen. I got the kettle out and found some tea in the cupboard and set them on the counter. It was at that moment that I realized that I hadn't the faintest idea how to make tea. I always had a cup in the mornings thanks to Mrs. Hudson, but any other time I had it I went out to restaurants or John made it.

Quickly, I fetched John's laptop, which was closer, and opened it. His password was always so simple; I guessed it on the first try. Once I unlocked the laptop, I looked up on the Internet how to make tea. The top result told me that I had to boil water first, so I filled the teapot with water and began to boil it. While I waited, I checked the time. John was ten minutes late. Having a row with a chip and pin machine would take him less time, because he would just get even more angry and walk out without the milk. He could also have run into someone on the way, like Mike or Molly. I decided I would text them both, to see if they held him up.

Have you seen John? -SH

I sent the texts, and in another ten minutes, both of them told me that they hadn't seen him, and John was still not home. As a last resort, I decided to text Mycroft to see if he talked to John or knew where he was.

Where's John? -SH

Mycroft replied almost instantly.

His phone is still at your flat, he must have left without it. I'll check the cameras to see where he went. -MH

His phone was still here? I looked around, and saw it sitting on the arm of his chair. I went over and picked it up, looking through his recent texts to see if he's made plans. Nothing. With a sigh, I put John's phone back down, and just before I picked my own back up, I got a call. It was from Mycroft.

"What is it, Mycroft? Why are you calling me? Is it John?" Confusion and a hint of worry swept over me as I realized that Mycroft would only call me if something was wrong with John.

"It's John. He was abducted. Get to the Yard now. I've alerted Greg and he will show you the footage." I didn't have the slightest idea who Greg was, nor did I care. I could always ask Graham when I got to the Yard. I pocketed my phone quickly and bolted out of the door, grabbing my coat and putting it on as I rushed out of the flat. I ran up to the side of a street and hailed a taxi, telling him if he went fast I'd pay him extra. Ignoring the cabby's comments and attempts at conversation, I whipped out my phone and sent a text to Mrs Hudson.

Had to leave for a case, I left a teapot on the heat, can you take it off? -SH

The cab arrived at the Yard, and I left quickly, throwing money at the cabby before rushing inside. I ran into Lestrade's office and asked, "Where's John?"

A/N: So, there's chapter one! I hope you guys enjoyed this, and due to the fact that I'm currently sick in bed, You may even get a second chapter today! Thanks guys!