GIFT FOR SANDY
Okay, so Sherlock is a wizard and John is a muggle. Sherlock is a magical genius but sucks at apparation….
@yorkiepug hope you like it :) <3 <3
Sherlock had never been the best at apparition. He knew how to do it but he always seemed to just slightly miss his coordinates slightly. Mycroft made fun of him endlessly for it. Today though seemed to be worse than other times. Sherlock who was aiming for St. Barts had managed to apparate into some Muggles house quite unexpectedly.
He had appeared in the air, near the ceiling of the room and promptly fell the small distance down and onto the dining table. Plates of breakfast clattered, a pitcher of milk was upturned and Sherlock thinks he felt a forks tongs stab him in his right arse cheek.
“Bloody hell!” A voice yelled, “What the fuck?”
Sherlock sat up and looked over to the muggle man who had until his unwanted arrival been sitting down to a full English breakfast.
“Apologies.” Sherlock stated matter of factly. “It was not my attention to appear in your home.”
The blond man just continued to stare at him. Sherlock did a quick sweep of the man but before he could say anything else there was a gun pointed at his head.
“Who are you and how the hell did you get in here?” The muggle demanded.
Sherlock quirked a brow, this muggle was refreshingly not dull. Interesting.
“Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sherlock enquired, not answering the ex-soldiers question.
“Afghanistan…” The man answered automatically, then seemed to chastise himself for it “Answer my question or I’ll shoot you.”
Sherlock shrugged, “No.” he glanced down at the plate in front of the muggle picked up a slice of bacon and popped it into his mouth.
“Yes I will, I grant you it’s not every day someone magically falls through my ceiling onto my dining room table but that doesn’t mean I won’t shoot you.”
“Your left-hand says otherwise.” Sherlock snarked.
“I’m sorry what?”
“Your left hand, it’s quite obvious the gun isn’t loaded. You see here,” Sherlock pointed to the man’s wrist. “If the gun was loaded your wrist would be under more strain with the additional weight of a full magazine. Here, the trigger is not engaged. So it’s not that you ‘won’t’ shoot me. It’s that you cannot. Be assured though that I am sure if the gun had been loaded I would be in fear of my life.” Sherlock paused and started at the muggle. “You’re an army doctor.”
The blond muggle lowered his gun and stared gobsmacked at the stranger sitting crossed legged in front of him on top of his breakfast. “That was amazing.”
“That’s not what people usually say.”
“What do people usually say?”
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