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Hacked	By : SoftPurpleSherlockian Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 4354 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters and am making no money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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Back at the flat, Sherlock found himself in the familiar predicament of being bored. He desperately searched for something at would occupy his time and mind, all the while willing his phone to ring with a case from Lestrade. As Sherlock lay on the sofa, he was struck with the notion that John had not made tea that morning before bolting out of the door.
"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock yelled from his reclining position on the couch.
He waited thirty seconds, listening for any sound of movement from downstairs before shouting again, "MRS. HUDSON!"
He let out an annoyed sigh before sitting himself up and walking across the flat to retrieve his cell phone out of the pocket of his jacket and typed out a text to John.
Bored – SH
Sherlock pressed the send button just as another thought popped into his mind.
John, where do you keep

the tea bags? – SH
Why do you need the

bags, Sherlock? I swear

to God if this is for a

bloody experiment.
Honestly John, I don't

have the sole purpose of

experimenting every time

I go into the kitchen. – SH
They're in the cupboard

next to the oven.
What are you going to

do, Sherlock?
John, I gave you

more credit than that. –SH
Sherlock?
I'm going to make tea, John.

Does that answer satisfy your

curiosity? –SH
Do you even know how to make tea?

I don't think you've done it a

single time since I moved in.
Of course I know how to make tea,

John, but what's the point in doing

so when you're here? –SH
Sherlock…
Sherlock could practically hear the scolding in Johns voice as he read the warning on the screen in front of him. Leave it to John to correct his manners even when they weren't at the yard on a case. Sherlock lacked the most basic human etiquette of polite conversation, and John always kept him in check.
You know what I meant. –SH
I do. Before you ask, the sugar

is on the top shelf, next to

the pasta to the left of the

stove.
Thank you, John. –SH
Sherlock went into the kitchen and focused on the task at hand. Filling the kettle with water, he placed it on its base and got the sugar bowl down. He glanced in the fridge and picked up his phone again.
We're out of milk –SH
You don't take milk in your tea,

Sherlock, so I fail to see how

that's important.

I am trying to work.
I'm perfectly aware of how

I take my tea, however, do you

or do you not take milk

in YOURS? And do you

or do you not have tea

every day after work?

Honestly John, I was merely

alerting you to the fact that

there is no milk in the flat. So

if you want your cuppa when you

get home, I suggest stopping by

the shop on your way. –SH
Sherlock placed his phone on the work top at the screaming of the kettle which sounded as the water had reached a lovely rolling boil. He went about pouring his water, adding his sugar, and letting his tea steep as he looked at the blinking light on his Blackberry, alerting him of a new text message. He felt himself smile as he stared at the screen.
Thank you, Sherlock.

I'll pick some up

tonight.
Sherlock made his way back into the den, stopping at the desk to collect the doctors' laptop, and made his way over to John's chair.
Opening the browser, Sherlock could feel the familiar anticipation as he signed into John's email account, and took a deep breath before swooping his delicate finger across the pad that led him to the button to compose a new message. This feeling of calm was how he processed information, and the detective set to typing out the only form of communication he understood.

----------------------------------------------

To: HolmesS_Detective .uk
From: WatsonJH .uk
Subject: Last night
Body:
What the fuck was that, Sherlock? You think it's charming to stand there and watch me undress? I'm going to show you how fucking charming it is, you little cock tease. We're going to go out tonight. Angelo's I think. You're going to sit there and eat a decent fucking meal.

Wear your coat tonight; you're going to need it, nobody else gets to see what belongs to me.

Halfway through dinner, you're going to get up and go to the loo. Once you're in there, I want you to go into a stall and start stroking your cock, do you understand me? You're going to sit there and think about the way you were looking at me last night. Did you really think I wouldn't notice, Sherlock? You wanted it so fucking badly. I'll bet I could have walked right over to you and you would have done anything I told you to, I saw it in your eyes, so don't even think about trying to deny it.
You're going to sit there and rub your dick while you think about what you denied me by turning away, and don't you even think about coming. I don't think I'm going to let you. . . it would server you right for teasing me with those little looks you've been shooting my way, the looks you didn't think I would see, the looks you tried so desperately to mask. How many times do I have to tell you, you don't hide anything from me - is that clear?
Perhaps tonight will serve as a reminder. You're going to stop just before you get to the edge, then you're going to button your coat and come back to the table to finish your food. I want to know that your cock is throbbing as you sit there and try to keep a straight face, and I want you to remember that you are mine.
Your Doctor.

-------------------------------------------

Sherlock pressed the send button, and he made his way to the SENT folder to delete the email he would soon be reading from his blackberry. He took a sip of tea, only vaguely aware of the fact that it had gone cold. Sherlock continued to stare at the computer screen for what seemed like hours, time always passed so slowly for him, before he finally shut it down and returned it to its proper place on the corner of John's desk.
He gracefully made his way across the room and picked up his phone to scroll through his contacts, it didn't take long to locate the correct number before pressing send.
"Hello, Angelo?" Sherlock started, "It's Sherlock."
He paused long enough to let Angelo gush over the detective, and to let him offer his thanks, however unnecessary it was.
"Yes, well… I was just calling to let you know that John and I will be in for dinner tonight. Please have a table ready."
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