Fluff & Stuff

Illusions

John sat on his armchair reading the newspaper, taking his first sip of his tea. He was patiently waiting for a stubborn Sherlock to get out of the bedroom and drink tea with him. Sherlock had not been able to solve the last case as easily as the rest because of her own lack of knowledge of astronomy. Naturally, John had teased her and she was slightly angry at John and refused to speak to him. For the time being at least.

John heard footsteps come from the bedroom and looked up from his paper. The teacup in his hand fell to the floor, the newspaper falling to the floor.

"Be quiet or I'll have my sniper shoot a perfect hole in your head." A thickly Irish voice said, the eyes of the beholder mischievous as he walked casually to Sherlock's armchair and sat down.

"What are you doing here?" John asked, his body stiff. James Moriarty sighed.

"I was bored. Helloooo." He said, dragging out the 'o' lazily. He grabbed what was supposed to be Sherlock's teacup and sniffed it, cringing almost unnoticeably before placing the teacup back down. "You angels entertain me. I love playing with your little brains."

John clenched his jaw, biting back an insult as he watched Moriarty get up from his place in Sherlock's armchair and crouch in front of John.

"I could punch you." John remarked through gritted teeth. Jim smiled widely and grabbed John's chin in his hand. He pulled on John's cheeks, as if he was inspecting John's eyes.

"Ah, but you won't." Jim said cockily before slapping John hard across his face. John's head swiveled to the side, eyes wide in shock.

"Because you've-" Jim grabbed John's chin again, inspecting his eyes once again before slapping him again twice.

John shook his head, the image of James Moriarty merging into one more familiar and much more comfortable.

"-Gone soft." He was slapped once again and he squeezed his eyes shut, the stinging sensation on his cheek becoming much more prominent.

When he opened his eyes again, James Moriarty was gone and was replaced by a very concerned looking Sherlock Holmes.

"Speak to me, John." Sherlock demanded desperately.

"Sherlock?" John asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion. Sherlock's eyes lit up as she gave John a faint smile.

"Welcome back." Sherlock said. John glanced around the room, noticing everything was perfectly fine and there was no sign of the consulting criminal.

John raised a hand up to rub his own cheek, pouting at the stinging sensation."What happened?"

"You were drugged."

"The tea?" John asked, receiving a nod in return. John made a noise of realization as he remembered the unusual after taste. "Figures."

"Whoever it was, most likely Moriarty, used Ayahuasca, which is a hallucinogenic brew made from one of several Amazonian plants containing DMT along with a vine containing a natural alkaloid that prevents the normal breakdown of DMT in the digestive track ." Sherlock said matter of factly. John made a noise of approval, a grin playing at his lips. Sherlock stood up from her crouched position, walking to the kitchen to see the supply in the cupboards to confirm her deductions.

"You got all of that from just a sniff?"

"I'm just that good." Sherlock said cockily, sending a wink in John's direction.