A/N: So this is exactly what it sounds like: a series of oneshots and drabbles all related to Sherlock BBC. Please review and let me know what you all lovelies would like me to write about! I'm more than happy to take recommendations! Thanks so much for reading, and for any and all of you that came over here after 'Stay', thanks for sticking around ;)

"I'm going to send Mycroft a glitter bomb."

I'm not sure, at first, if this is a sentence the deigns a response. There are a total of four obvious things that I can infer from it immediately that give me conflicting thoughts:

1. John said this firmly enough that I see no point in arguing.

2. The words 'Mycroft' and 'bomb' in the same sentence give me unpleasant feelings against my will, almost like I care what happens to my brother which I don't.

3. John would never blow somebody up (certainly not if that somebody was a somebody that I didn't loathe) and so the bomb ostensibly isn't one of the detonating kind.

4. The words 'Mycroft' and 'glitter' in the same sentence fill me with a child-like glee that I haven't felt since last week when John let me catch a bee in his coffee cup and bring it to my room for science. (It wasn't for science. It was because I love bees. I'm ninety-three percent sure that John knows this.)

John sits down in his chair. Laptop: opened, seemingly to a page related to said glitter bombs, but I'd have to look to be sure. He's doing that thing with his face where he isn't quite smiling and his lips are pursed, and in a split second I decide that I'm interested in this conversation.

"Are you suggesting the explosion of my brother?" I ask. I raise one of my eyebrows, confident that John will not see through the falsity of this question. Of course he isn't considering that (as evidenced by option number three) but I find it sinfully fun to bait him.

"It's glitter, not black powder, and trying to blow Mycroft up would be even more stupid than whatever that thing you did with the octopus and the mustard last week was."

"I was trying to─"

"Yes, I know, the point is─" and here he looks at my from under his light eyelashes without moving his head, which for some reason I find unspeakably attractive─ "I'm not going to explode him, I'll just send him this glitter bomb─comes in a harmless looking package, he'll never know─and then he'll open it and it'll shower sparkles down all over his stately ass."

I wait a moment before answering because it seems like the appropriate thing to do, and I don't want to appear too enthusiastic lest John become suspicious. Finally I say, "What color?"

John smirks and says with declarative joy, "Fuchsia."