Cheerleader (story 2)

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by qwritesthings

by qwritesthings

"You're a bloody psychopath!" Mycroft Holmes hissed at me. I threw another handful of flour at him, smirking at his reaction.
"No," I retorted, clearing my throat. "I'm a high functioning Sociopath! Do your research!" I mimicked Sherlock's voice almost perfectly (or as perfectly as someone with a higher pitched voice could). I heard a chuckle from behind me and I could swear my face burned one thousand different shades of red. I thought Mycroft's head was going to explode. I cackled, taunting the older Holmes brother was one of my favourite pastimes, which, in hindsight (which is always pretty much 20 20) probably wasn't so smart since he was the British Government.
"So are you going to apologise?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and winding up to throw another flour bomb.
"Fine, fine. I'm sorry, you and Sherlock make a wonderful pair."
"And?" I prompted.
"And I'm sorry that I called Sherlock an unfortunate sod for coming across someone as odd and unpleasant as you! Then again, maybe I'm not.." Mycroft grumbled as I threw the flour at him. He must have pretty good reaction time, because he popped his umbrella out to block the flour bomb from ruining his coat further. He stormed out of the flat, I ran after him, this time with a fist full of frosting, completely forgetting Sherlock was behind me.
"BLOODY RIGHT YOU'RE SORRY! I yelled, just as I was about to throw the glob of frosting, the tall detective grabbed my wrist, and wrapped his free arm around my waist.
"(y/n), please don't antagonise Mycroft, he is--"
"The British Government.." I finished, turning around to face Sherlock. I pecked him on the cheek. Glancing at my handful of frosting, I broke his grasp and smashed it all over his face, giggling wildly. He looked shocked at my sudden antics. "Oops.." I shrugged, grinning. He wrestled me to the ground, pinning me down. He pressed his frosting covered lips to mine. Our lips and bodies moved in sync. When we broke for air, he smirked.
"You taste sweet." I smirked back. Sherlock rolled off of me and pulled me onto his lap.
"Thank you." He said, looking me in the eyes. I knew what he meant, but I played dumb.
"What for?" I inquired, pecking him on the cheek. I got frosting on my nose.
"(Y/N), you've stood behind me no matter what, you defend me. You're my..." He thought for the right word. "Cheerleader." He grinned slyly. I looked at him before smirking and Stradling him, attacking his lips with mine. It felt as if all the curves and niches in his body were meant to fit mine, perfectly. Moving in sync, I grinned into the kiss. I felt his grip tighten on my waist, and I giggled. Just then, John walked into the flat.
"There is flour-- OH. I'm interrupting. I'll be on my way.." He muttered, walking out. I got up.
"No, stay. I'm gonna go wash this frosting off of my face." I heard Sherlock hiss a very annoyed 'shut up' at John, so I assumed John shot him an amused look.
I just kept walking, smiling to myself.