Intervention

It was bad. He had taken up smoking again. I told him over and over again that he had to stop but he never listened. The flat started to smell like smoke that would never go away. Sometimes I would wake up to him smoking AND wearing nicotine patches! It had to stop.

"Hi, Mycroft it's John and I need your help..." I called Mycroft when Sherlock was out with Molly doing some absurd experiment. Mycroft had agreed to send someone to rid our flat of cigarettes so I waited. The person arrived and immediately found four packs outside our flat.

"Serious problem." he stated as he continued to rummage and find more and more packs.

"You could say that." I replied and helped him try to find all of Sherlock's stash. It took several hours but after a while we became fairly certain that we had found ALL of the cartons, and nicotine patches. I thanked the man for his help and waited for Sherlock to get home and unleash his wrath.

"Why the bloody hell would you do such a thing!?" he screamed when he entered the room. His eyes darted frantically around the room in search of any spot we had missed, but apparently we hadn't.

"Why? And you think I'm stupid, OUR FLAT SMELLS LIKE SMOKE!" I screamed "You are always in some kind of trance! You are being totally insane, and I am not going to let you kill yourself by letting you become a chainsmoker who wears 5 nicotine patches while smoking!" I stormed out of the room and into my own. I needed to calm down.

The next day Sherlock played his bloody violin so loud that the store below us called the police. When Lestrade showed up and told us we needed to keep the racket down I told him why Sherlock was being so... insane. He understood and went in by Sherlock.

"If I get one more call about you and your bloody violin I will confiscate it from you and break it!" he threatened. Sherlock wasn't listening but did tone it down a few decibels.

When Sherlock was done with his violin he moved to the kitchen to "experiment"  which usually meant "I'm going to blow stuff up for a while, so don't bother me." He not only blew stuff up but burnt his hand. He actually called out to me and I had to wrap it up so he could continue his annoy John experiment.

Two agonizing weeks is how long I had to put up with him. For the first week he was angry, shouted, hit things, blew things up and played his violin. During some of the next week he begged me to give him just a patch, to which I refused. Now though he just sits in a chair facing the wall and says nothing. I tried everything from cases to blogging to cheer him up but all he did was ignore me until I just couldn't stand it.

I walked up behind the chair he was sitting in and knelt down to be level with his ear.

"If you're looking for drugs I know one you've never tried." I whispered into his ear. He perked up a little at the sound of my voice and bit.

"What?" he asked, he sounded intrigued but wanted me to think he was bored.

"Me." I whispered as I gently kissed him on the neck. With this he shot out of his seat like a rocket, surprising me so that I jumped back. He rounded the chair, came up behind me and kissed me, pushing me into the chair until his whole body was pressed against me.

We then, without saying a word, moved slowly, still kissing, to his room and shut the door. We were still kissing as we removed each other's clothes. When  Sherlock had gotten all of mine off he shoved me onto the bed, paused and dashed out the door. I lay there feeling completely exposed, wanting to cover myself. He finally appeared in the doorway, totally naked and with one hand behind his back. As he approached me he revealed his riding crop.

"Now I'm ready."