Just Some Johnlock Oneshots

Take My Coat

Sorry, this is a kinda short one. Hope you enjoy! :) 

John found himself quite disappointed when he and the consulting detective discovered they were tracing the wrong woman, and there wouldn't be a high speed foot chase tonight. His sullen mood only grew when the pair stepped out of Scotland Yard into the chilly London air. The blogger grumbled under his breath about a million things that were upsetting him while Sherlock attempted to hail a cab. They stood on the curb for three minutes with no success when John got fed up.

"Come on Sherlock. I don't think we're going to have any luck and I just want to go home," John sighed and began walking towards their shared flat. Sherlock was soon walking beside him, hands tucked into the pockets of his infamous belstaff coat. John kept stealing longing glances at it, wishing he had some warmth a coat would provide. Not being one to keep up with the weather reports, John stupidly ran out of 221B in only his cream woolen jumper that wasn't doing the best job fending off the frigid breeze.

Thankfully it was only a 15 minute walk from the station to their home, and John was soon relaxed in his plush armchair with a cup of piping hot tea. Meanwhile, Sherlock was dashing about the sitting room, looking at pieces of evidence and muttering to himself. After only 10 minutes of relaxation (well, for John), Sherlock's phone rang. The man had gone into his mind palace and was oblivious to the world, so John reached over and into Sherlock's suit coat pocket to access the phone.

"Hello," He spoke into the phone.

"Is that you John?" Lestrade's voice asked.

"Yep, the genius is in his mind palace."

"Not anymore," Sherlock whipped his piercing blue eyes open and focused them on his cell phone in John's hand.

"Well," Lestrade continued, "we found the actual suspect and need you two to go out and apprehend her." John sighed quietly at the thought of leaving his cozy chair but told Greg he and Sherlock would be there in a short while.

The two friends ran out the door, John forgetting his jacket in his rush. They obtained a cab very quickly and were soon on their way to the restaurant disclosed by Lestrade. Upon entering the Chinese restaurant, the men immediately saw the woman who had murdered her sister in law. John was once again disappointed because she confessed without much of a struggle, and he never got the adrenaline rush that was the usual highlight of his day.

They called Lestrade and she was carried off in a police car. Realizing his stomach was rumbling, the blond ordered from the restaurant, also getting a small serving for Sherlock.

"You know I won't eat that," Sherlock stated as they strode out of the building.

"Yes you will. You just solved a case and I know you haven't been eating since you started on it."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and scoffed before heading down the pavement towards the flat.

"Hey, where are you going?" John called as he jogged to catch up with his impossibly tall friend (or maybe it was just that he was short).

"Home. I quite felt like walking," Sherlock waved his hand about in a disinterested way. John groaned but followed his friend. The wind was already cutting through him and his hand holding the bag of takeout hurt. The blogger shoved his hands into his armpits to conserve heat and picked up his pace so he was out walking his curly haired friend.

"If you're that cold, John, just take my coat," Sherlock sighed and swung his belstaff off his thin frame.

"Wha- no I'm fine-" John stuttered but was silenced when the detective wrapped his long coat around the short man. Sherlock flipped up the coat collar with a sweet smile that John couldn't help but return.

"I couldn't let my blogger freeze," Sherlock smiled and placed a brief but warm kiss on John's forehead. Sherlock quickly turned and continued walking, leaving a blushing John grinning like an idiot behind him. After shaking his head, John caught up with Sherlock and hesitantly reached to intertwine their hands. He bit back an overjoyed smile when Sherlock's pale hand reassuringly squeezed his.

They continued the walk home, both feeling quite warm inside.

When I was updating this I saw that this story is rated #69 in Johnlock, and first thanks so much for reading, but also I was cackling for a solid minute.