I don't own Sherlock

John watches with mild interest as Sherlock puts on his scarf and coat when the doorbell rings and when police burst through the door of 221b Baker Street, John Watson is less than surprised, for it happens so frequently now it's lost somewhat of its effect.

Of course, they've never handcuffed Sherlock before.

"What the bloody hell is going on?!" John demands, looking at Lestrade for clarification

"Sherlock Holmes, I'm arresting you on suspicion of abduction" the DI says, and his eye look unbearably conflicted –not that John's particularly bothered- as two of his officers cuff Sherlock who looks at him and mutters;

"Its fine, John" looking entirely too calm

"No! No it is not fine!"

"Don't make me arrest you too John" Lestrade half warns, half pleads and the filthy scowl he gets in return makes him wince.

The two officers forcefully shove Sherlock through the door and down the stairs as other officers proceed to tear apart the flat, Donovan looking far too pleased with herself when a fat, balding stiff in a suit enters the flat, giving it a dismissive visual once over

"Looks like a bit of a weirdo if you ask me, but then again, these vigilante types always are" the stiff commented, nasally voice grating on John's already fragile nerves "least he'll be where he belongs, locked up with the other freaks"

Donovan's eyes are wide and she looks incredibly worried as the words leave her superiors mouth.

John, on the other hand, is terrifying calm and he takes a step towards the cackling man, and months of rage and frustration bottled up from Afghanistan and the way people treat Sherlock unleashes itself in a giant flaming ball of anger and he draws back a balled up fist before sending the curled limb straight into the pig like nose, the wet crunch of a nose being broken is endlessly satisfying as is the shrill whine of pain, and if his knee just manages to catch the other man in the crotch as John is jumped by about three officers, well, that's just too bad, isn't it?

As he's shoved down the stairs he can't resist and calls

"Next time you insult Sherlock Holmes in my present, it won't just be your nose I break. I may be a doctor, but I still have bad days!"

The frustrated howl he receives in reply makes him smirk, and even though he nearly falls down the stairs and when they throw him against the police car next to Sherlock, he's pretty sure he felt a rib crack, he's undeniably smug

"Take it you're to join me then?" Sherlock asks conversationally, smirking at his flatmate who returns the expression

"Apparently, smacking the chief superintendent is a criminal offence, who would've thought it eh?"

The two look at each other before bursting into laughter, an action completely inappropriate given the situation, but then again, this is the man who visited Buckingham Palace in a sheet and the only man crazy enough to live with him.

"You do realise Mycroft is going to kill us, right?"

"We'll just wave a slice of cake under his nose and run"

As they're bundled into the back of the police car, they share a conspirital grin and Sherlock loudly begins 'deducing' the various officers whilst John asks if they'll be given a nice cuppa and a chocolate biscuit.

They are nothing if not antagonistic, and by God, they're going to let everyone know.