Imagine being at 221b with Sherlock

"Sherlock! There's a head in the fridge!", you scream after slamming the fridge door shut again. You'd only gone to get some food, only to find the face of a dead man staring back at you from in the fridge. "I know there's a head in the fridge. I put it there", Sherlock said from the other room. You'd only agreed to come and hang around with Sherlock because John, your elder brother, had made you. He'd taken your laptop off you to force you to get out of the house, but luckily, you still had your phone, so it still hand some perks. "But WHY is there a head in the fridge?", you shout at Sherlock storming into the front room with your hands on your hips. Sherlock was lying upside down on the sofa, his head on the floor, his feet up towards the sky. "What on earth are you doing?", you ask, looking at him. "Sitting down. Why?", he said blankly, his eyes closed, his fingers pressed against his lips deep in thought. "Normal people don't sit like that", you sigh, practically giving up trying to understand him, slumping down into the armchair. "Normal people are boring, and I'm not normal", he said bluntly, still not moving. "Yeah well we all know that", you muttered under your breath, pulling out your phone to check your messages. "What are you doing?", he said after several minutes of silence. "What does it matter to you?". "Everything matters to me", he replied, opening his eyes and looking up at you slightly offended. "Oh, so what I'm doing is suddenly important? Well thanks, not like I haven't been here for three hours already just being sat here watching you as you ignore me", you spit back at him feeling frustrated, closing your phone and crossing your arms. "Has it been that long?", he asked surprised, getting up and picking up the clock on the mantel piece. "Yes, it has, and I'm bored stiff", you mutter scowling at him, pulling your feet up onto the seat. "Well there is a TV, perhaps you can watch some dribble of fiction to pass the time till John returns", he said, gesturing to the TV beside you whilst he still stood looking at the clock. You sigh, and look at the TV, and then sigh again. "Sherlock, there are bullet holes in the TV. Why?", you say exhausted looking at the smashed screen. "I was bored", he muttered walking over towards the window holding the clock in his hands. "I give up", you sigh, closing your eyes and flopping down backwards on the chair. You stayed like that for several minutes just trying to control your breathing between breaking down into tears and freaking out in a rage. "Y/N?", Sherlock asked. "What?", you answer very slowly, bringing your hands over your eyes. "Would you like some tea?", he asked, lifting your hands up as his face came in above yours. "Why are you being nice to me?". "Well why shouldn't I?", he said a little surprised that you'd even said that. "Because you're never nice. John always tell me how you're too busy working to even notice that people even exist. Why should you even care about me", you spit at him, pulling your hands away and getting up storming towards the door. "Y/N, wait ", he said, gently taking hold of your wrist as you past. You stopped walking, and turned back to look at him. "I'm sorry. I forget about having to act normal, that's why I don't have any friends. I didn't mean to be rude or anything like that. Please don't go", he said gently, looking sincerely at you. "It's ok", you whisper to him, a gentle smile on your lips. "We can't all be like you". "Why on earth would you want to be like me, that must be so boring", he muttered to himself as if you weren't there, but you giggled, and he realised he must have spoken it aloud as his cheeks went a little red. "Hey, it's alright", you say squeezing his hand. "Good, right tea", he promptly said, scuttling off to the kitchen. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you smiled. "What are you smiling at? Oh and you never answered my question with what you were doing on your phone?", he asked popping his hand back around the corner at you. "Oh nothing, just something that's become quite popular on twitter actually. Breaking news really", you say smugly, hiding the phone behind your back. "Why, what is it, it must be important", he said, leaning behind you and pulling your phone out of your hand and looking at it. His face dropped and he turned to look at you. "Why did you do that?", he said, holding up your phone showing you the image. "Yes, I did. When else do you catch the great Sherlock Holmes fast asleep on a sofa with a sheep photoshopped on top of him", you said cheekily. "Delete it", he said holding the phone out to you. "Nope, can't do that now. It's out there for the whole world to see". Sherlock just stares at you, the cogs in his mind racing, before he just sighs and holds out his hand. "Welcome to 221 Baker Street, my new accomplice", he said, admitting defeat. You jumped up and down in the air triumphantly, before calming down and shaking his hand. "I knew that would change your mind". Sherlock just smiled at you, before turning back to the kitchen. "Now, Y/N, tea?".