You stopped in your tracks and whipped around causing a man to spill his french vanilla latte down his front.
"What did you say?" you spat at the curly haired man.
Sherlock looked up at you, scorn evident in his eyes.
"I was telling Miss Hooper not to make acquaintances with brainless, introverted Americans."
Your jaw dropped and in two quick strides you were next to him. Molly stared in horror between the pair of you.
"I. Am. Not. Brainless, Mister Holmes," you hissed poking him in the chest.
He grabbed your wrist and shoved it away from him.
"Yes you are. You have the mental capacity of a child which is why you are working at this low paying dump. The reason you work the behind the counter is because the manager doubts your ability to be able to put together drinks. You have made friends with Molly which shows that you have little to no social skills as she is your only friend. Thus my conclusion that you are an introverted idiot."
Your fist collided with his perfect cheekbones. He went reeling backwards and you tried to hit him again only to be restrained by your manager.
"Ah I must change my deduction," Sherlock said gently prodding his cheek where a bruise was sure to form, "A introverted, violent, idiot."
Snarling with rage, you were forced out of the café by your manager and told not to come back. You angrily shoved your hands in the pockets of your (FC) jacket and began to trudge home. It started to rain and you covered your face with your hood, grumbling.
Who did Holmes think he was insulting you like that? And Molly for that matter! He was such an arrogant toe rag!
You walked on trying to ignore the freezing rain that was coming down in buckets. Your skin felt like ice and your teeth began to chatter by the time you entered the flat. John was downstairs talking with Mrs. Hudson when you opened the front door.
"Sherlock? Sherlock, is that you?"
You ignored him and shut the door behind you.
"Sherlock if I call you please answer-Oh hello (YN)," John said coming into the hallway.
You nodded in his direction, peeling off your soaked jacket in the process.
"My word, (YN), you look half frozen to death!" John exclaimed leaping towards you.
"I'M FINE," you hissed trying to enter your flat but John stopped you. He grabbed your left arm and peered into your face.
"You met him."
It wasn't a question.
You sighed angrily.
"YES. I met Sherlock, bloody, Holmes," you growled pulling your arm free from John's grasp.
"What did he say about you?"
You glanced at John and saw his concern.
"He called me an idiotic, violent, introvert," you sighed.
John's gaze darkened.
"I am going to KILL that man!" he mumbled under his breath, running a hand over his face.
You laughed darkly.
"Let me help would you?"
John sent you a sardonic smile.
"Is this why he called you violent?"
"No, he called me violent because I punched him in the face," you said with some satisfaction.