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"SHERLOCK, STOP SHOOTING AT THE WALL; WE HAVE A CASE!"

Sherlock dropped his gun and ran towards you, snatching the laptop from you. Then he went backwards, plopping down on the couch. The wall was still steaming slightly from it's gun wounds.

You stood there, your eyebrows raised.

"We didn't have a case only for about a day, and you're this desperate already?" You scoffed.

"You don't understand, ______" Sherlock calmly stated, rolling his blue robe's sleeves up, " You might even say that I get high from cases."

You only rolled your eyes and sat beside him, causing him to flinch. You both looked at the screen that had the case that Sherlock always had wanted.

Hello, Sherlock Holmes.

It looks to me that my boyfriend is losing interest in me. At first, probably because he didn't know me, found me interesting. Then, after deducing me, I think he thinks that I'm boring. I'm not sure if I would want to continue this relationship if he keeps on ignoring me. Now, it's not like he doesn't talk to me. It's more like if I died, he wouldn't notice until someone told him. I wonder if you can solve this, Holmes.

From, anonymous

Sherlock stared at the screen for a moment, keeping quiet. You also stared at the screen too, but you were watching Sherlock in your peripheral vision, trying to see how he would react.

"Why are you showing me this, ____?" Sherlock asked, "This is not even a case - this person wants therapy."

You fumed silently, facing the other way.

He's really stupid about relationships; I guess that's why John was surprised that I started dating him.

Regaining your calmness, you turned towards him, smiling.

"It's something, Sherlock, " you advised, "You want a case? Well, here it is."

He placed his hands together as if in prayer and put them under his chin, pursing his lips.

"Well," he began slowly, " then I'll have to meet this....person."

"Okay, then," you breathed, putting your legs on the couch into a criss-crossed position. Then you faced Sherlock, who was still thinking.

"If this girl starts crying, I swear I'm going to-"

You pulled lightly at his gray baggy shirt; his concentration faltered.

"Yes?" he asked, facing towards me.

"It's me," you sighed, " you big loaf."

He stared blankly at you, cocking his head to the left in confusion.

"You think that I don't like you anymore?" he questioned, his piercing green eyes darting around me to find information.

"Yes," you stated; there's no use in lying.

"Hmm," he murmured, looking at the window behind you.

"I may," he said slowly, " not be able to show ... affection for you... as freely .. as you would.. want me to."

"No," you said, shaking your head slightly, " It's just that I don't get the feeling that I'm your girlfriend, but as a flatmate. I know John told me that you may have problems like this, but it would've help that you don't ignore me like John - no offense to him."

You looked down, just realizing that that sounded childish.

That sounded much better in my head.

You could hear the soft thud of the laptop closing and sliding sound it made as it went on the coffee table. You were about to raise your head when Sherlock cupped your head lightly and kissed your forehead. You were still, unable to believe that this was happening. He released you from his sweet touch, and you finally raised your head.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, " I'll.... try to -"

"Oh you idiot," you whispered, leaning in to hug Sherlock, " that was all I needed."