Lost Scenes

"Sherlock, what the hell do you think you're playing at?" John asked, rushing down the stairs to the living room, where Sherlock lounged on the couch, a devilish look in his eyes.

"Mmm?"

"Mrs. Hudson would have a fit if you exploded anything in here and I'll kill you if you do." John threatened.

"Oh, come now, John," Sherlock said with a touch of innocence. "Am I really capable of such a thing?"

John snorted. "Just keep your hands off of my beer, okay? If you're going to wreck anything, make sure it's nothing of mine."

"Fine," Sherlock said, smiling complacently.

"Great," John said with a nod. "I'm going out. I want to rent some James Bond for us to watch. Stay put," he ordered. "I don't want you running off on some case that I know you don't have. We're watching these films," he said firmly.

"Okay." There was a dramatic sigh as Sherlock reclined on the couch, tucking his arm behind his head. "Are you sure you trust me to stay here alone in the flat? I could cause damage."

John paused in putting his coat on and gave his flatmate a suspicious stare. He chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Right," he said after a moment. "You're coming with me. It would do you good to get out anyway."

"What? No!" Sherlock protested. "I don't want to go anywhere!"

"Come on," John insisted. He grabbed Sherlock's coat from a chair and tossed it to the other man. "Get your coat on. We're going."

"I'm not dressed," Sherlock argued, looking down at his pyjama bottoms and t-shirt.

"Whatever, just keep your coat buttoned up," John told him. He had a firm, not-to-be-argued-with look in his face, so Sherlock grudgingly stood and shrugged his coat on.

"Fine," he sulked. John grabbed his shoulder and pushed him out the door and down the stairs.

By time they reached the video store, Sherlock had finished pouting and had stopped his complaints that this was cutting into his research time ("Research for what?" was John's reply, to which Sherlock had no answer) and that he needed to be at home practicing his violin ("You did that last night, at two in the morning, and this will just take a minute"). In fact, by the time they stepped inside, he'd become quite…giddy. John stared in wonder as Sherlock excitedly bounded over to a display showcasing some newly released action films.

"Look at this, John," he cried eagerly. John cringed at the loud volume of his voice, glancing around at the other people quietly browsing the store, and hurried over. "This looks good," Sherlock said, interest bubbling in his voice, as he held out a case picturing a large explosion.

"Uh-huh…" John nodded slightly. "Erm, I'm going to go find our movies. Just stay here and look at these. No need to go running around the rest of the shop. Don't disturb anyone," he instructed particularly firmly.

"Right," Sherlock said happily, picking up another film, this one displaying an intense looking male and a scantily clad female running from zombies. It looked, John thought, eying the woman, much more interesting than the first Sherlock had looked at...

John was engrossed in choosing just which Bond films he would show to Sherlock, when a loud giggle pierced the silence. His eyes immediately flicked up, scanning the store for his friend. He found Sherlock quickly, the tall man in a black coat easy to pick out. He had not, as John had told him, stayed with the action display but had appeared to have wandered over to the romantic comedy section. He was reading the back of a film with apparent glee. As John watched, another loud giggle escaped from Sherlock's lips. He quickly abandoned James Bond and hustled over.

"Sherlock," he hissed, "what're you doing?"

"Hmmm?" Sherlock asked, looking up from the DVD. "Oh, hello John," he grinned. "You have you hear this." He held up the case. "He's got to write a hit to perform with this pop star, so he gets her," he tapped the face of the actress, "to help him. And they fall in love," Sherlock finished sappily, batting his eyelashes. He giggled again. "It's so ridiculous, John! Can we get it?"

"What? No!" John said sharply. "Now, you pipe down and behave yourself. I'm going back over there to finish looking." Sherlock shrugged innocently and set the movie back. John gave him a final stern look and left him.

Minutes later, he was running back across the store to pull Sherlock away from a middle aged woman who was shouting at him. The consulting detective, it had seemed, had gotten down on his knees to look at the bottom shelf of the adventure classics and had been crawling down the aisle to look at them all, when he ran into the woman. Instead of crawling around her or, hmm, maybe getting up, he had shoved at her feet and told her to get out of the way. It had started a shouting match, ending with several kicks and shoves. John had gotten there just as Sherlock was tugging violently at the hem of her coat, trying to drag her out of his path.

"You've got to stop this!" John had lectured, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, pulling him to his feet and down out of the aisle. He dumped Sherlock with the horror films, instructed him to stay there and be good, and hurried back across the store to finish making his choices as fast as he possibly could.

He had crossed his fingers and hoped for the rest of their time in the shop to be uneventful. Crossed his fingers and hoped, but hadn't really expected it. How could he, sensibly?

He heard the raucous laughter first, looking up to see that Sherlock had made his way to the comedies and was having the time of his life looking at one of them. He quickened his pace in choosing his films, determined to get over there before Sherlock did any real damage. In his speed, he stopped looking up to check on his friend. The next thing he heard was the alarm going off in the store and the cashier shouting at someone to stop. He looked up to see the man running after Sherlock, just managing to catch him outside the door where a crowd of people had slowed the consulting detective, and dragging him back inside.

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"I mean, listen to this: 'He knows no fear. He knows no danger. He knows…nothing! When the priceless Crown Jewels are stolen…'" John listened to Sherlock read the whole thing as he nervously chewed the nail of his thumb. "It sounds brilliant!" Sherlock finished with satisfaction. "Stupid, but classic."

"So, you decided you had to pinch it?" John snapped.

"What? Well, yes," Sherlock replied.

"Sherlock," John began impatiently as they rounded the corner, "I had to lie to them in there."

"Quite quick thinking," Sherlock commended him, still engrossed with the film in his hands. "Telling them I was slightly mental and about to go on medication."

"Yeah, well you did a pretty good job convincing them," John commented sourly. "I've never seen you behave so poorly. You were like a young child on caffeine pills or something." John glanced sharply at his friend, new questions in his mind. (Questions like Have I seen any needles around the flat recently?) "I'm never taking you anywhere again."

"But think of what I could have done to the flat if you'd left me," Sherlock reminded him cheerfully. "Look at this picture, pretending his hand's a gun." He chuckled happily, leaving John wondering how much of a lie he had really told back in the shop.

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When they reached 221B, Sherlock bounded up the stairs with his DVD, which John had ended up renting along with the Bond films, and over to the tv. "Sherlock," John complained as he entered the room, "I don't want to watch this crap. We were going to watch Bond."

"No, this'll be really good!"

"How d'you know? You've never seen it." John was irritated. He had not just lied and ended up paying for an extra film, that he didn't want, just to let Sherlock have his own way. "I don't want to watch bloody Rowan Atkinson run around trying to be clever." He quite liked Rowan Atkinson actually, but he wasn't in the mood for him.

"C'mon," Sherlock wheedled. "If we watch this, I'll sit through all three of those Bond films you got."

"Without messing about on your laptop or trying to read through them? Complete concentration? No texting?"

Sherlock considered, then nodded. "Yeah okay." John sighed and sat down. He sat through the whole film, only getting up once to get a beer (and a dirty look from Sherlock, who giggled and chattered all through it). As soon as the credits finished, he leapt up.

"Right!" He cried. Finally. "James Bond."