Downloading... [Sheriarty AU] {Completed - Edited}

Chapter Eighteen: Baby, Come Back.

It had been almost a month since that night Sherlock had come in for tea - and that was all he got that night - and Jim had seen a lot more of Sherlock since (even though he saw him often beforehand). Jim wasn't too sure what they were. He supposes they were 'fooling around' or whatever people called it now.

Many of their evenings pasted in cuddles and kisses on Jim's sofa, watching some of Jim's favourite movies. Or if not a movie, Jim would be on his computer with Sherlock's arms around him. He didn't mind so much that Sherlock was reading over his shoulder and Jim just found the little grunts Sherlock made when Jim flirted with Don absolutely adorable.

If others saw them, they'd assume they were a couple. Maybe they were a couple. Jim wasn't sure. Surely, to be a couple there needs to be some kind of discussion about what you are, right?

Dating was probably what Jim would categorise it as. Not friends but not quite in a relationship. Just having fun. Not that they'd... gone to bed together yet. And yes, Jim was sure that sentence required the 'yet'. Jim wouldn't sleep with Sherlock until he was sure what this was, that it was serious. He wanted it to be serious.

Even though he wasn't sure what the situation was, Jim was happy.

Well. At this exact moment he wasn't happy, he was the completely opposite of happy right now. But in terms of their relationship, Jim was happy.

Anyway, the reason Jim was currently so unhappy - devastated, distraught, terrified, depressed, grim - was simple. It was also the same reason his flat currently looked like World War Three had began and the first bomb had hit here.

He couldn't find his laptop.

Jim hadn't been this close to crying since his grandma died. In fact, he might even be closer to crying now than he was at her funeral and as terrible as Jim feels about that, he's too worried about his laptop to care.

Looking around his flat, Jim feels his eyes water again. He feels like bawling. That laptop was his best friend - sorry Sebastian - and now it was gone. He can't understand it. One minute he was standing in a sparkling flat (Sherlock was due to arrive any minute now) and the next he was reaching for his laptop to check his emails... only to find that his beloved machine wasn't sat on his desk like it usually was.

Now caring that his kinda-sorta-boyfriend was about to turn up, Jim slumps and falls to his knees in the middle of his living room. He looks around, praying to see that familiar shine. When he doesn't, he can't stop it, tears begin to leak out of his eyes despite the will power he was using to try and keep them in.

"Oh, God... Where is it?" Jim mumbles to himself.

There's a knock at the door then and Jim barely has the strength to lift himself up and wipe his eyes before shuffling over to open the door. Sherlock has a large grin on his face but it falls the second he sees the look of utter misery on Jim's face.

Sherlock moves into the flat and closes the door. Then he puts both hands on Jim's shoulders and looks him dead in the eye. Sherlock does this a lot when Jim seems moody. It was so Jim couldn't escape when Sherlock asks if he's okay.

"James, what's the matter?"

Jim doesn't say a word and he just falls forward, into Sherlock's arms and chest. Sherlock seems hesitant but still holds Jim close and shushes him. Jim whimpers lightly and clutches Sherlock's jacket, fighting the urge to start bawling.

He was a grown man, for Christ's sake, he should no be crying over a lost laptop.

"Tell me what's wrong?" Sherlock says, voice soft as he pets Jim's hair.