Sheriarty One Shots (Adapted Version Of Da Music Meme) [REQUESTS TEMPORARILY CLOSED]

+9: Lips Of An Angel - Hinder [REQUEST]

+9: Lips Of An Angel - Hinder [REQUEST]

Request from @ConsultingFangirl_

You guys seriously need to stop making me love songs... I keep changing my ringtone and then forgetting I've changed it and wondering why my phone is randomly playing that song. Then I miss the call! ...Not that anyone other than my dad and uncle ring me... But still! Ugh. I love you all.

I got a little carried away with this one...

-

The detective groans, falling onto the sofa and laying across it, allowing his limbs to hang off the furniture. Both of his feet were over the arm rest and one arm limply lay to the side side, his fingers skimming the floor, while his other arm was tucked between him and the back of the sofa. He closes his eyes, drowning out the sound of his annoying friend who was bringing tea in from the kitchen.

Everyday since the whole 'Miss me?' incident across London, John had been coming to the flat and checking on Sherlock almost everyday. It got to the point where Sherlock just ignored him, really not interested in the man's pointless worrying about his safety.

John was in the middle of saying something and putting a fresh cup of tea down when Sherlock's phone began to ring. Sherlock's eyes fly open and he sits up, plucking his phone off the table and hitting the red button as soon as the name flashed across the screen.

When Sherlock looks up, John is frowning at him like he was that last word in the crossword that he couldn't figure out and made him reconsider all the previous answers he gave.

"What?" Sherlock asks, curiously.

"You got your own phone." John says it as if it's as odd as seeing a tiger roaming the cold streets of England.

Sherlock shrugs, brushing off the comment. Even though John was right to pick up on the oddness of it. "With you gone and no longer able to be at my beck and call, it's become something of a habit."

That was a lie. But what John didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Sherlock had been receiving frequent phone calls. Almost everyday he received a call. He couldn't tell that to John because that would inevitably lead to John asking Sherlock who was calling him everyday. And that was something Sherlock wanted to keep a secret.

"Sherlock, that's the fifth time in the past week you've got a call while I'm here. You never answer."

Sherlock has to smile. Dear John, always so noble and respectful of other's privacy. The curiosity was killing him, clearly, and yet he didn't ask.

"I'd answer if it was someone interesting." Sherlock flicks his wrist, dismissing the subject as he lays back down on the sofa in his previous position.

It doesn't take long for John to leave Baker Street, fed up with Sherlock being, as he put it, 'bitchy and childish' even though Sherlock was acting his normal self. After the doctor's departure, Sherlock's phone rings again. Unsurprisingly.

It don't get past three rings before Sherlock has hit the green button and raised the phone to his ear.

"Ah. You answered. I will get you to answer during one of your pet's visits, I promise." An Irish voice laughs down the phone and Sherlock gets a metal image of Jim sitting at a desk full of paperwork that needed sorting, but instead he had a phone to his ear and was grinning.

"Whatever you say, Jim." Sherlock replies, feigning indifference.

Another chuckle. "You're not fooling me, dear. I know you're considering my original offer."