The Great Game (Sherlock Holmes x OC)

After a long day at Scotland Yard, Anita finally arrived at 221 Baker Street. After Anita payed the cabbie, she turned and saw that John had also just arrived. She jogged lightly to fall in line with him.

"Hello John," Anita greeted as he opened the front door and the pair walked in.

"Hey Anita. You just got off work?" he asked. The two of them started up the stairs.

"Yeah, it was a long da-" Anita responded but was quickly cut off.

Bang! Bang!

John and Anita shared a look before running up the rest of the stairs. Once they reached the apartment, they saw Sherlock slumped over in his chair. A pistol was dangling lazily in his hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" John questioned, angrily.

"Bored," Sherlock responded, sulkily.

"What?" John asked him.

"Bored!" Sherlock shouted back and he sprung up from his chair and switched the pistol to his right hand and fired away.

"Bored!"

Bang!

"Bored!"

Bang!

Anita and John recoiled and covered their ears while he shot away at the wall. Soon after he started he stopped. Anita rushed into the room and ripped the gun out his hands, slipping out the clip. She narrowed her eyes at him, and Sherlock smiled sarcastically at her. She mumbled a long list of profanities at him, which he promptly ignored.

"Don't know what's got into the criminal classes. Good job I'm not one of them," Sherlock sneered as he then walked over to the sofa.

"So you take it out on Mrs. Hudson's wall?" Anita argued as she put the pistol into a small safe on the dining table as Sherlock ran his finger along the painted smiley face on the wall. John was still at the door, looking between the duo.

"Ah, the wall had it coming," Sherlock answered nonchalantly. He turned sideways and flopped onto the sofa on his back.

"What about the Russian case?" John asked, taking his coat off and Anita followed suit. Though she kept hers in her arms, not expecting to stay long. To be honest, she just wanted to go home and take a shower and watch a sappy stupid Rom-Com.

"Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time," Sherlock replied.

"Ah, shame!" Anita jokes, sitting down on the arm of Sherlock's chair. John walked into the kitchen and went to open the fridge.

"Anything in? I'm starving," he asked as he opened the door to see a severed head. He promptly slammed the door shut and shook his head. He opened the fridge door once more, to make sure he wasn't just imagining it. But he wasn't, there was a real human head in the fridge.

"A severed head!" John shouted from the kitchen. Anita leaned back a bit to try and get a better view of John, who was still in the kitchen.

"Just tea for me, thanks," Sherlock answered, calmly. Anita sighed and slid all of the way into Sherlock's chair, knowing John and Sherlock were about to fight like five year olds.

"No, there's a head in the fridge!" John exclaimed.

"Yes."

"A bloody head!" John yelled as he walked back into the living room.

"Well, where else was I supposed to put it? You don't mind, do you?" Sherlock explained, looking over at John. John held his hands out despairing and looked back at the fridge.