literature

Handcuffed

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John woke up feeling a bit odd. His bed felt slightly warmer than usual and his soldier's instincts were kicking in and telling him that somebody was in the room staring at him. John shifted around carefully, and turned on his side to see exactly who was intruding in his room.

Sherlock.

John groaned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Sherlock was indeed staring at John. In fact, he was sitting right next to John on his bed, still wearing the same exact clothes he had been wearing last night. Somebody didn't go to sleep last night.

"John."

Pretending to ignore the man, John turned back over on his side and checked the clock on his bedside table. It read five o'clock, exactly on the dot. John shifted again to stare at Sherlock.

"Should I be glad that you at least gave me until early morning to sleep?" He asked sarcastically. Sherlock rolled his eyes lowered his head so that they were looking at each other in the eyes.

"John, I need help with an experiment." Sherlock said.

"Of course you do." John responded. Figuring it was pointless to dissuade the man (a lesson learned from many trials and errors) John sat up and rolled himself out of bed. Or at least, he TRIED to. John felt Sherlock suddenly tugging on his arm, and he fell back down onto the bed.

"Sherlock, what the hell are you-"

CLICK!

Click…

Click?

John looked down at his wrist and saw in an almost numb horror that Sherlock had handcuffed one of his wrists. Following the metal trail, his eyes fell upon the other part of the handcuffs…which were on Sherlock's wrist.

"Sherlock," John began calmly, "what is this?"

"An experiment." Sherlock frowned and began fiddling with the keyhole, poking what looking like to be a bobby pin in and out of it.

"What experiment demands us to be handcuffed together exactly?" John continued on, still making his voice remain calm and steady.

"This experiment, obviously John."

"AND WHAT THE HELL MADE YOU THINK I WOULD WANT TO TAKE PART IN IT?" John bellowed, pulling hard on his handcuffed wrist. This succeeded in allowing John to jump off the bed, but made Sherlock fall face down onto it as his wrist followed John's.

"I don't see why you're so angry." Sherlock grumbled. John took a moment to pull a few deep breaths into his lungs. Sherlock had done many, many stupid experiments in their flat ever since the day John had moved in. And John had gracefully dealt with them all, and had even managed to get Sherlock to tone them down a bit after finding not one- but three rotted heads in the fridge one evening. However this-this was just going too far.
John attempted to put his hands over his face in exasperation, but the hand that was attached to the wrist that was currently attached to Sherlock wouldn't move any further than a couple of inches.

"Sherlock, give me the key to these right now so we can release ourselves."
"I don't have it." Dear Lord, John could almost feel one of his eyes begin to twitch with slight hysteria.

"What do you mean you don't have it?" John hissed, pulling their handcuffed wrists up in front of Sherlock's face. "You had better mean that you don't have the key on you now, and its right downstairs."

"Well actually there is no key. I purposefully designed these handcuffs to have no key." Sherlock batted John's hand out of his face and resumed picking at the key lock. John stood there, glaring at Sherlock with all the fury he could muster at five in the morning.
"Explain." He hissed, putting their faces back within close range, making sure Sherlock could see how furious he was.

Sherlock paused in his tinkering for a moment, looking at John's angry expression with one of boredom. "Oh don't be so upset John. I'll have us out in a few moments time…I think."
"EXPLAIN SHERLOCK!"

Sherlock looked almost sulky at John's outburst. He put the bobby pin down and propped his head up on his uncuffed hand. "Well since you've been sleeping through the night for the past week or so-"

"Like any normal person should."

"-I've been bored. And you should know my take on normal by now John. Normal is boring, which is exactly why I called in a favor from an engineer who owed me a favor and asked him to design a pair of handcuffs without a key that had an incredibly difficult lock to pick. I just got them last evening and of course I had to test them, so I handcuffed my hand I use less for lock-picking and began to attempt to free myself. Unfortunately this engineer is actually quite clever at their job and it seems I cannot pick the lock quite yet." Sherlock finished his tale by giving the handcuffs a tap and smiling innocently up at John.

"Sherlock, exactly why did you think it would be a good idea to handcuff us together if you couldn't pick the lock?" John actually really didn't want to hear the reason. But with Sherlock, you always just have to ask him 'Why?'

"Oh that. Well because I would look foolish with just one hand cuffed, but I very well couldn't handcuff both my hands; I need one to pick the lock. So I thought it would be an interesting experiment to see how you reacted to being handcuffed to me." It was easy to see that Sherlock had lost interest in the conversation. He had picked the bobby pin back up and was beginning to poke at the keyhole again.


~SHERLOCK~


John had no idea what to do. Sherlock was obviously having trouble getting the lock to open, and what was worse was Sherlock muttering silently to himself, 'Brilliant! This will be entertaining!' which in Sherlock speak meant, 'This will keep me from being bored for at least over twenty-four hours!'

Translated to John speak, 'Bloody hell, I'm going to be attached to Sherlock for awhile. Somebody get me a saw to cut off my wrist now.'

So far, it was an absolute nightmare. John had wanted Sherlock to stay outside while he went to the bathroom, but unfortunately the metal links on the handcuffs wouldn't allow them to be that far away from each other, so John had to be content with blindfolding Sherlock and telling him to close his ears and hum a tune so that the other couldn't hear anything.

Sherlock had, of course, replied with sarcasm. But eventually he had done as John asked, even if it was only because John had threatened to throw out the latest poison ivy experiment downstairs.

Showering…well it had been a bit better. At least Sherlock could stand outside the shower curtain as John showered. But it was still incredibly uncomfortable.

Putting on clothes and taking them off for the shower was an interesting experience. John had to pretty much cut off his pajama top, however Sherlock surprised him by actually phoning Mycroft and asking for some clothing to deal with their 'special situation'. Didn't mean it hadn't been embarrassing as hell for John. He could almost hear Mycroft's amused voice as he took in the handcuff story. He was pretty sure that people were maybe going to get the wrong idea as to why him and Sherlock were handcuffed together.
Actually make that 'maybe' into 'most definitely'.

Sherlock wasn't making things any easier either. When John had wanted privacy for trying on the new clothes Mycroft's men had brought (before the shower, because John wasn't too fond of walking around the flat half naked, especially since it was the middle of winter and their heater was broken) Sherlock had scoffed and said "Really John. It's not like I haven't seen it all before."

People were really, really, really going to get the wrong impression about them.
But still, after two hours of the agony of getting ready for the day with Sherlock, they both still stood in the living room, fully clothed and bathed- ready for the day- and still handcuffed together.

This might not be so bad if we can just remain in the flat all day, John thought. Just as long as Lestrade didn't call with a new case, everything would be fine.
But of course everything wouldn't be fine.

Because Sherlock's phone suddenly lit up with a text message, and instantly Sherlock's face was transformed into a huge grin.

"Come John! A murder has taken place! Let's go!"

Mycroft had even been so kind as to give them new jackets and jumpers to keep them warm outside.

This was going to be an incredibly long day. John winced as the handcuffs pulled on his skin as Sherlock pulled him along outside, already hailing a cab to deliver them to the crime scene.
Written because of the lovely photos we have all seen of Sherlock and John handcuffed together :iconeeeeeplz:
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Watson-Locked's avatar
My god this is hillarious.