How Sage Became a Holmes//book the first (A Sherlock BBC Fanfiction)

"Bored!" Drama and Puzzles

Now this I was present for: (I leave as soon as the action starts. *eye roll* You'll find out why soon enough.)
I was in the kitchen at the flat doing dishes (even though I'm not their housekeeper) with my earbuds in. John had gone out, and Sherlock was lounging in his chair, probably lost deep in his mind palace. Without any warning, two gunshots rang out. I ripped out my earbuds, and spun around to see Sherlock sprawled low in his chair with his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, a pistol in his hand.
"Sherlock Holmes, what the hell?!?" I shrieked. He gave no answer, simply pointed his pistol towards the smiley face he'd spray painted on the wall (Mrs. Hudson had given him hell for that) and without even looking in that direction – fired two shots at it. I put my hands over my ears as he turned his head to look at the face, firing a third. As he fired a fourth time, John came running up the stairs with his fingers in his ears. He stopped on the landing, and gave the same reaction I did.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Bored." Sherlock replied sulkily. John squinted in disbelief.
"What?"
"Bored!" Sherlock yelled. He sprung from his chair, John and I immediately recoiled and covered our ears again. "Bored! Bored!" Gee, he was like a high maintenance -really angry- puppy dog or something. That knew how to use a gun.
John hurried into the room and Sherlock continued to glare at the smiley face, but allowed John to snatch the pistol from his hand. "Don't know what's got into the criminal classes. Good job I'm not one of them."
"So you take it out on the wall." I said, my hands on my hips, as Sherlock stepped up to stand on the sofa, running his fingers over the bullet holes in the wall.
"Ah, the wall had it coming." He replied. He turned sideways and dramatically flopped down onto the sofa on his back, his head landing on a cushion at one end and his feet digging into the arm of the sofa at the other.
"What about that Russian case?" John inquired.
"Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time."
"Ah, shame!" Said John sarcastically.
"I see you've written up the taxi driver case. 'A Study in Pink.' Nice." Sherlock changed the subject.
"Mm, I read it too!" I put in.
"Did you like it?" John asked.
"Erm, no." Said Sherlock.
"Yeah, I loved it!" I said, rolling my eyes at Sherlock's response. John smiled at me, before questioning Sherlock.
"Why not? I thought you'd be flattered." Sherlock glared at him.
"Flattered?" He spat. "Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things." He rattled off, quoting John's blog.
"Now hang on a minute. I didn't mean that in a..."
"Oh, you meant 'spectacularly ignorant' in a nice way!?" Interrupted Sherlock. The two proceeded to bicker for a good 5 minutes about Sherlock's intelligence and his occasional lack of general knowledge. They were both really agitated, and to be perfectly honest, their quarrels really are amusing. John finally stood up and walked towards the living room door
"Where are you going?" I asked, poking my head out from the kitchen.
"Out. I need some air." He said tightly. I shrugged.
"You really must of pushed his buttons." I said to Sherlock. He grunted in response and rolled over on the sofa to face away from me. Mrs. Hudson came in with some shopping bags, which I took from her and set on the counter. Sherlock turned his head enough to acknowledge her existence, but then looked away again.
"Have the boys had a little domestic?" She asked. I smirked.
"Yep." Sherlock stood up off the sofa and took the shortest route to his destination, walking over the coffee table and going to the left-hand window.
"Look at that." He said, scanning the street. "Quiet, calm, peaceful." He grimaced."Isn't it hateful?"
"Oh, I'm sure something'll turn up, Sherlock. A nice murder for you three to work on - that'll cheer you up." Mrs. Hudson said, attempt to console him.
"Can't come too soon." I remarked. Trust me, dealing with bored Sherlock is just as bad as being bored Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson patted me on the shoulder as she walked towards the door, but stopped when she saw the bullet holes in the wall. "What've you done to my bloody wall?!" I glanced at Sherlock just in time to see him smirk as he seemed to admire his handiwork.
"I'm putting this on your rent, young man!" She said angrily, going back down the stairs.
"Well Sage, how about some tea?" He said pleasantly, starting to stride towards the kitchen, just as a massive explosion went off in the street across from us. The windows blew in and the blast hurled us both to the floor.