A/N: For a change of pace from all the angst and heaviness I've been writing, here is a lighter piece. I may continue with this, if I get some ideas. Enjoy!

"Bored," said Sherlock. "Bored, bored bored."

The poor, abused wall received another hole with an accompanying "bang!"

"How in the world did you find my gun, again?" John complained. "I thought I had it well hidden!"

"Really, John?," Sherlock smirked. "In the laundry hamper?"

"We'll, it's not as if you ever bother to put your clothes in it!" John said defensively.

Suddenly, John smacked his palm on the table. "I've had enough! Alright, you have two choices. A. You watch some crap telly, or B. Do what ordinary people do when they're bored."

"I'll take option C." Sherlock snarked back.

"Option C. See options above," the doctor replied firmly.

"Wait, what exactly do ordinary people do when they're bored?" the detective asked curiously.

"Why, they read fanfiction, of course!"

Two weeks later, John cursed himself, repeatedly. He wished he had never mentioned that vile word to his peculiar flatmate. Of course, Sherlock had taken to it with enthusiasm to the point of obsession. He read, researched, and compared, convinced that he could uncover unknown truths hidden in the vast stores of information some called Fanfiction.

"John, do you think there's really something going on between my brother and Lestrade?" Sherlock asked him eagerly one day.

John choked on his cuppa.

"That would be wonderful! Imagine how much blackmail we could get on both of them!"

"Sherlock, why, what in-" the doctor stuttered.

"Well, if so many authors seem to think so, there must be something to it... Here, this one seems to be quite detailed..." Sherlock clicked on a link.

It was Sherlock's turn to choke on his cuppa.

Just as John thought things couldn't get worse, Sherlock began needling him for his opinion on medical diagnoses.

"Would you say I have an eating disorder? Most authors think it's anorexia, but some say it's bulimia. I don't even recall purging. Do you think I've deleted it? Oh, and apparently, I'm able to delete anything I don't like from my mind. This theory is present in 95% of fanfiction, and is therefore very likely true," the detective rambled.

John stared as Sherlock pressed his hands to his temples, closed his eyes in intense concentration, and mumbled, "Mycroft, command, delete," over and over again.

"John, John! I did it! I deleted Myc- oh," his face fell. "That was horrid! Now I can't get rid of his stupid face!" Sherlock began rubbing his eyes viciously.

"You were saying some thing about disorders?" his flatmate interrupted, desparate to distract him before he launched into an endless Mycroft related rant.

"Yes, do you really think I have Asperger's?"

"Ah, not quite..."

"But this post here says that in 'canon,' John tells Greg (whoever that is) that Sherlock has Asperger's. I've deduced that 'canon' refers to events that are well-documented and widely known. So, anything to say for yourself?"