Sherlock: Bored With You

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Request for @_greek_fire_

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"Relax your hand, you don't want to pull the trigger before your ready," chuckled Sherlock nervously.

You took in a deep breath, but it was hard to relax with his hand resting lightly on yours and his breath so close to your ear. Not that you cared though. Your feelings for Sherlock Holmes had disapparated years ago, like they weren't even there in the first place.

"Now when you're ready just-"

BANG. The gunshot fired through the air and left a ringing in your ears. Sherlock, after ducking wildly out of the way, began cursing at you under his breath and wondering why he had ever let you near a gun, but you on the other hand, you felt great.

"Bored!" you yelled happily, smiling cheekily at Sherlock. The detective was just about to reply something cheeky back when the front door opened and in walked the newlyweds.

"Mary! John!" you yelled happily, dropping the gun immediately and running up to hug them. Your brother and his amazing wife (you still didn't know how he had gotten such a good catch) had finally returned from their honeymoon. You were just about to ask them about it when you were interrupted by a voice from behind.

"(Y/n), ever heard of a thing called the 'safety'? It's what you put the gun on so that it's safe to hold," Sherlock said, dramatizing his movements as he flipped it to safety. "I could have shot myself, or someone else, on accident."

"Details," you said boredly, waving him off. He let out an irritated sigh and you snickered to yourself.

"Well, how was it?" you asked.

They began telling you and your heart sunk a little. You were happy for them, truly, but you couldn't help but feel a little pinch at the thought that you may be forever alone and never get to experience a honeymoon. You were too lost in thought as John gave Sherlock a look and asked to speak with him in the kitchen, and Mary followed them as well. Suddenly you snapped back to reality, realizing you were alone in the living room. A glimpse of my future possibly? you joked to yourself. Well, back to work.

You grabbed the gun from the table, unclipped the safety, and began a procession of gunshots around the wall while annoyingly sing-yelling "Bored!" in an opera voice after each one. While you were reloading, you heard whisper yelling coming from the kitchen. You cocked back the gun and headed in there to see what all the fuss was about.

"What's going on?" you asked.

The three turned to you, startled looks on their faces like they had all just been caught in an act of indecency. Sherlock's face was worst of all though. It was like his cheekbones were casting off red rays of embarrassment and his mouth was in a fit of making gibberish that no one could hear.

"Why do you guys look like you just killed someone?"

"Date me."

You for sure thought that you were going into cardiac arrest or that you were experiencing another episode of sleep paralysis. No way you just heard "date me" come out of Sherlock Holmes mouth. You panicked. "Shoot you? " you asked, hoping that this is what he had said instead. You would gladly shoot him right now, because somehow he had allowed that cage of butterflies you had locked away so long ago to escape into your stomach once again.

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