Toby the Yogurt Finder
"Sherlock?" John called out into the flat. When he was met with no response, he continued, "So, we've got a guest, who's going to be staying here for a few days."
The box he had picked up off of Park Street seemed to grow heavier in his arms.
"Okay." John heard Sherlock's voice from the kitchen. He must've been in the middle of an experiment, or else he wouldn't have sounded as uninterested. So John, a little relieved that he didn't have to confront Sherlock right at that moment, breathed a sigh of relief, put the box down, and opened it.
It took Sherlock two hours to notice, and whether it was due to Sherlock's intense focus on his experiment or Toby's quiet and docile behavior, John didn't know. But he didn't have to guess about Sherlock's reaction to Toby.
He had taken one look at him and said a definitive, "No," with the look of someone who was greatly vexed that they even had to voice their opinion at an idea so ludicrous.
"I know. We're not keeping him. Relax. I saw the number on
"Honestly John, it's really quite simple."
"No, Sherlock! It's not 'quite simple!'"
"Of the two human beings in this room, which one is more able to make a well-informed and intelligent decision on the difficulty of a certain task?"
"I really think there's only one human being in this room: me. But in any case I should cause I'm normal."
Sherlock scoffed. "Ugh. Boring. Now try it again."
"Sherlock, my fingers are tired. I seriously can't play anymore. My fingers are going to start bleeding and I'm going to get an infection."
"Are you insinuating something about the cleanliness of my bow?"
"Actually, maybe I am." John set the violin down on the armchair. "You've come home soaked in blood before."
"Pig's blood." Sherlock murmured.
"As if that makes it alright!" John shouted, throwing his hands up in defeat. "How am I supposed to know what sort of rubbish gets on your bow?" He crossed the room, desperate to get away from the world's most aggravating flatmate, and let himself fall onto the
Sweets Chapter Four - JohnlockChapter Four - How to fool your opponent
Sherlock didn't have to wait long, as London was a center for criminal activity and the police needed his help far too often. Scotland Yard sent him case files home, so that he could look into them and solve the case for them as soon as possible.
Sherlock lay on the couch, deep in thoughts, but they were not about the case. He had solved it almost instantly, it had been an far too easy, boring case. Sherlock thought about his next move. Should he just wait, until John would get the sweets on his own? Should he put on an act, so that he wouldn't have to wait too long, until John would think that the case was difficult for Sherlock? No, he would wait, even if he wasn't the most patient person. It was highly probable that John would look through it if Sherlock put on an act. John did most of the time. Waiting would be the best solution. His hands moved up to his chin, resting on his chest. This was so boring. A small smile played on Sherloc
Sherlock : Part-Time Job"What the..." Sherlock opened his eyes widely. He looked into the black taxi wondering if he waswithout knowinghigh. But maybe John was right and he should sleep during cases. Because he could not be healthy and/or clean if he was seeing Jim Moriarty as a taxi driver.
"What?!" Moriarty snapped. "Haven't you ever seen a man with a part-time job?!"
Sherlock was still silent, wondering if he should take another cab. He was meant to meet John at Angelo's. Or maybe he should just call Lestrade? Mycroft? No, nothing is ever worth calling Mycroft. Arrest Moriarty himself?
"Come on, sweetie. You have nothing on me. I'm not doing anything wrong, I'm just driving a cab. I'm a cabbie, cabbies don't harm people," he said as smiled like a little girl found in family photos.
"Seriously? Are you a good man to tell me that cabbies do not harm their passengers?" Sherlock looked at him suspiciously.
"Look. I'm not going to kill you. Nor any of my clients. They are paying me for driving them
Sweets Extra 2 - JohnlockAnticipating the retaliation
After what had happened at the crime scene, John was mad at Sherlock and wouldn't stop ranting about it the whole cab ride home. The cabbie had glanced back through the mirror a few times, obviously feeling uneasy with them almost yelling at each other, but John hadn't really cared. They had kissed in public and now everyone was certain that John was gay. At least they had only assumed so before that particular scene Scotland Yard had the pleasure to live by.
Well, John obviously was not gay. The only thing he was, was insane. That was the only explanation for him falling in love with a high functioning sociopath. He had to be completely and utterly out of his mind to have let something like that happen.
John leaned back in his favorite armchair and sighed. It was no use to cry over spilled milk. Best to just drink a nice cuppa and simply accept it. He checked the time. Still half an hour left until he was going to meet with She
1000 Reasons WhySummary: John comes home after shopping to find Sherlock left him a note. Turns out there are plenty more where that came from.
Johnlock proposal fic, because there aren't enough out there and that needs to be fixed.
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
John cursed under his breath as he jiggled his keys in the lock, the groceries precariously balanced on his free arm. He kicked the door shut behind him and went to the kitchen to unload his bags. He stopped in the doorway when he spotted the... substance sitting on top of the table.
The table they prepared food on and ate off of.
"Sherlock!" he groaned, edging around the table and putting the groceries on the counter. "I thought I told you to keep your experiments off the table?"
He received no answer, and quickly checked the flat. He found no Sherlock, and was about to start worrying when his phone went off. He unlocked it and saw it was a text from Sherlock.
Lestrade called me out on a case. Boring, but
Sleep Well"Blast it, Sherlock, turn that damned thing down," hissed John as he stormed down the stairs and into the little living room of the flat he shared with the man in question.
The telly was on and blaring some crude show with a pair of so-called comedians screaming at the audience. John practically crushed the power button in his frustration, silencing the annoying device. His eyes flicked immediately to the couch, ready to chew that imbecile out for ignoring his right to sleep. However, it was rather to his surprise to see the man in question sprawled out across the couch, fast asleep himself.
John blinked for a moment. It was weird seeing Sherlock like this.
He crept close feeling as if this was something to marvel. Well, it was. He wasn't sure he'd ever actually seen the man sleep before. Of course, it also had a lot to do with the fact that they slept on different floors, in different rooms. But the man John knew was always so wound up that sleeping, like eating and bathing
Sweets Chapter Three - JohnlockChapter Three - A game willing to play
A week passed without one of them talking about what happened. Sherlock was surprised that John wanted him to admit defeat. He had expected that John would want to talk about their kiss. That he would be mat at Sherlock for kissing him. That he would just buy him the patches, but not that John would strike back. Sherlock had of course noticed right away what John wanted to do, but he didn't mind, no. Quite the opposite was the case.
Truth was, Sherlock didn't want the patches anymore; he wanted to kiss his good doctor again. It had felt so good. It had felt like nothing he had felt before. He had kissed a few people, back in his college days, but he had always felt disgusted by their saliva mingling with his own.
John was different, his exception. Sherlock had found himself touching John whenever he could without being too obvious. John had been more observant than he usually was, catching Sherlock staring at him out of the corner of his e