Sherlock fic requests: 2
This one is for cosmic_rainbows.
Request: I really want to read about Bond night! XD I actually don't slash these two *ducks* (I have others, just not these two), so would just want a funny, friend-shippy, at-first-Sherlock -hates-it-on-principal-but-then-gets-into-it type thing. He'd be acting a bit like a child/diva/irritating prick at first, and John would want to throw things at him. Actually, I'd quite like to see Sherlock get hit in the face by a cushion, lol. And he should also be in his PJs...
Bond Night
John came home carrying an HMV bag. Sherlock glanced up at him, then back at the paper. He was still in his pyjamas, and John wondered if he had bothered moving all day. The stack of the Saturday newspapers had been well read, he could tell, pages furled, supplements scattered on the floor around his flatmate.
"Amazon is usually cheaper," he said.
"Yes, but I wanted the DVDs now." John took the James Bond Ultimate Sean Connery Collection out of the bag and began peeling off the protective cellophane. "Anyway, it was on sale." He shook the case loose. "Do you want to - "
"No."
"You haven't heard what I was going to say yet!"
"You were going to ask me if I wanted to watch several hours of inane popular culture as some kind of male bonding ritual." Sherlock turned the page of his newspaper. "People did it all the time at university. Waste of time."
"I bought Revels."
Sherlock looked over the top of The Telegraph.
"Really?"
*
"This is ridiculous. What sort of secret agent introduces himself by his real name?"
"I don't know," said John, his patience beginning to wear thin an hour into Dr No. "What sort of consulting detective has a website with his name and phone number on it?"
Sherlock gave him a supercilious look and then looked back at the TV.
"Trying to use a spider bite to kill someone is a stupidly ineffective delivery method," Sherlock noted, and John threw a cushion at his head. "Ow! Why did you do that?"
"Because you're being annoying," said John. "And you ate all the Revels."
"I still don't see why someone doesn't just shoot Bond," said Sherlock, but he rummaged for the Revels bag and held it out to John. "Look, there's one left."
"One," said John drily. "How very kind." But he took the bag anyway, and Sherlock didn't make any more deprecating comments for fifteen minutes. Most people wouldn't really see that as a concession, but then, most people didn't really know Sherlock.
John ate his solitary Revel, and smiled to himself as Bond seduced Miss Taro and Sherlock observed that honeytraps were a very unreliable way of cornering suspects. He was enjoying their male-bonding-waste-of-time, and he thought Sherlock might be too. That was if John didn't kill him by the end of Goldfinger.
Request: I really want to read about Bond night! XD I actually don't slash these two *ducks* (I have others, just not these two), so would just want a funny, friend-shippy, at-first-Sherlock -hates-it-on-principal-but-then-gets-into-it type thing. He'd be acting a bit like a child/diva/irritating prick at first, and John would want to throw things at him. Actually, I'd quite like to see Sherlock get hit in the face by a cushion, lol. And he should also be in his PJs...
Bond Night
John came home carrying an HMV bag. Sherlock glanced up at him, then back at the paper. He was still in his pyjamas, and John wondered if he had bothered moving all day. The stack of the Saturday newspapers had been well read, he could tell, pages furled, supplements scattered on the floor around his flatmate.
"Amazon is usually cheaper," he said.
"Yes, but I wanted the DVDs now." John took the James Bond Ultimate Sean Connery Collection out of the bag and began peeling off the protective cellophane. "Anyway, it was on sale." He shook the case loose. "Do you want to - "
"No."
"You haven't heard what I was going to say yet!"
"You were going to ask me if I wanted to watch several hours of inane popular culture as some kind of male bonding ritual." Sherlock turned the page of his newspaper. "People did it all the time at university. Waste of time."
"I bought Revels."
Sherlock looked over the top of The Telegraph.
"Really?"
*
"This is ridiculous. What sort of secret agent introduces himself by his real name?"
"I don't know," said John, his patience beginning to wear thin an hour into Dr No. "What sort of consulting detective has a website with his name and phone number on it?"
Sherlock gave him a supercilious look and then looked back at the TV.
"Trying to use a spider bite to kill someone is a stupidly ineffective delivery method," Sherlock noted, and John threw a cushion at his head. "Ow! Why did you do that?"
"Because you're being annoying," said John. "And you ate all the Revels."
"I still don't see why someone doesn't just shoot Bond," said Sherlock, but he rummaged for the Revels bag and held it out to John. "Look, there's one left."
"One," said John drily. "How very kind." But he took the bag anyway, and Sherlock didn't make any more deprecating comments for fifteen minutes. Most people wouldn't really see that as a concession, but then, most people didn't really know Sherlock.
John ate his solitary Revel, and smiled to himself as Bond seduced Miss Taro and Sherlock observed that honeytraps were a very unreliable way of cornering suspects. He was enjoying their male-bonding-waste-of-time, and he thought Sherlock might be too. That was if John didn't kill him by the end of Goldfinger.