Hello reader! Just so you know, I have changed by pen name from ShonaMcEvoy to Shona Strawberry Bonbons because I don't want any of my friends stalking me online. And other reasons. So anyway this is a funny little one shot, hope you like it! I took liberties with Sherlock's middle name, because he doesn't have an official one. Please R&R and Review!

Seriously?

by

Shona Blackcurrant Bonbons

"Sherlock?" John looked up from yesterday's newspaper at the violin wielding man in the corner of the flat, who was tucked away in an arm chair, plucking aimlessly.

"Yes." Sherlock stated, a hint of irritation in his husky voice. John sighed. No case today then.

"Do you have a middle name?" The query had struck John only that morning. It had suddenly occurred to him whilst in the shower, that for all the years he'd had to put up with Sherlock – or rather, lived with him – he had never once thought to ask him his full name. Odd how the most basic details seemed of the least importance.

"Why?" Sherlock was sticking to mono- syllabic responses today. The man really was impossible sometimes.

"Because Sherlock, I've been living with you for 6 years now, I think I have a right to know." John spoke very slowly, like he was explaining a difficult sum to a small child. On second thoughts, that was exactly what Sherlock was.

"By what right exactly?" Sherlock did not even bother to turn around and look at him, but the plucking became more frantic, strings twanging.

"Divine?" John joked, but his words hit a wall of silence.

"Yes, John, I do have a middle name." John sat in silence for a moment, thinking he might elaborate. After a minutes had gone by it became blatantly clear that he wouldn't reply. Sherlock was an expert at evading questions when he wanted.

"What is your middle name, then?" John sent a questioning look to the back of Sherlock's head. Yet again his question was met with silence, and John was about to give up when he heard a faint whisper from the corner of the room. It was so quiet John had barely heard it.

"My middle name is Sherrinford."

John looked confused. "Your mum was a Jerry? What the hell Sherlock?"

Well if looks could kill, John would be dead. Sherlock had locked him with an ice cold stare, and John started to squirm under the intense glare.

"I said my middle name is Sherrinford."

John's confusion cleared, but was immediately replaced by a burst of laughter. He tried to disguise his snort with a cough. Sherlock's 'I'm going to kill you' look had become even more intense, and John swore his eyes had turned black.

"Sherrinford? Seriously?" John chuckled. "Sherlock Sherrinford Holmes. You're not kidding, right?"

"Quite serious, John." The calm monotone in Sherlock's voice was frightening given the situation.

After rinsing his cup, John headed up to his bedroom. He was stopped in his tracks by the sound of Sherlock's voice.

"John, what's your middle name?"

John stiffened at the question. How did Sherlock always know how to get to him? At that moment he was severely tempted to run to his room and barricade the door. He'd probably have to lock the window as well.

But John had faced worse fears than his name, so he took a deep breath and walked over to Sherlock, who had a sinister gleam in his eye and a sly smile on his face.

"Hamish." John only just managed to spit the word out, and even then it was a strangled whisper.

"What kind of ham, John?" Sherlock taunted.

"You know perfectly bloody well what I said, Sherlock!"

"Hamish? Seriously?" Sherlock chuckled. "John Hamish Watson. How quaint."

John restrained himself from connecting his fist with Sherlock's nose. The satisfaction would have been sweet. Instead he settled for walking back up to his room to hide his head in shame.

If there was one thing he had learnt living with Sherlock, it was never, ever cross him.