A New Life

Chapter Fifteen

Two gunshots from the apartment above filled the silence. I jumped, dropping the tea kettle I was just about to fill. What the hell was he up to now? I exited my flat shaking my head as I slowly ascended the stairs. I felt no need to rush; Sherlock had been without a case for too long, something like this was bound to happen. I swung open the door to 221B and stepped inside. Sherlock was slumped in his armchair, his head laid casually against the back. He was sprawled low in the chair his legs stretched out in front of him crossed at the ankles. I smiled at his blue silk dressing gown and bare feet. He was completely losing it without something to tame his wild mind. His eyes were closed, after a few moments he opened them and gazed up towards the ceiling. I walked over to him with my arms crossed in annoyance. I tapped my foot as the door downstairs opened.

"Sherlock, love. You cannot just open fire inside your flat," I said with a smile on my face.

I glanced at the bullet-riddled wall above the sofa where he had painted a yellow smiley face with the spray paint from the 'Blind Banker' case. The can was sitting on the coffee table. Sherlock sighed and raised his left hand which held the pistol. He pointed it at the smiley face and - without even looking in that direction- fired two more shots. I stood stock-still my PTSD flaring at the sudden loud noise. I held my fisted hands at my side and took several deep breaths. Sherlock eyed me thoughtfully before looking at his handy work, firing a third shot. I covered my ears and backed away from him. As he fired a fourth time John bolted into the room with his fingers placed firmly in his ears.

"What the hell are you doing?" John yelled.

I stepped closer to him and took in a shaky breath. I steadied my nerves and stared at Sherlock in anger. He had nearly thrown me into a panic attack.

"Bored," Sherlock whined.

John squinted in disbelief. "What?"

Sherlock sprung up from his chair causing John to recoil and once again cover his ears in shock.

"Bored!" Sherlock loudly said.

"No," I said stepping forward.

Sherlock ignored me completely and switched the pistol to his right hand. He turned towards the smiley face, he fired at it again. Then swung his arm behind his back, twisting slightly to his right he fired at the wall from behind his back.

"Bored! Bored!" he angrily said with each shot.

As he brought his arm back around, I hurried forward and snatched the gun from his hand. I stood in front of Sherlock and glared menacingly. I lifted the gun towards the smiley face and without breaking eye contact with Sherlock, fired it. The bullet soared through the air and met its target. Right between the eyes - exactly where I intended for it to go.

"No!" I yelled in frustration.

I handed the gun to John who quickly removed the clip while Sherlock walked towards the sofa sulking. I placed my hands on my hips and stared at him.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes! You cannot just fire at Mrs. Hudson's walls whenever you're bored. She is going to be so pissed," I yelled at him flailing my arms around in anger.

He sent me a glare. "Where did you learn my full name?" he childishly asked.

I smirked shrugging. "John."