Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles - A Johnlock Story

The Domestic Life of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson

Johns POV

"No cases?! God, this is ridiculous, I'm fine!" Sherlock exclaimed. Lestrade shook his head, arms crossed. The two stood in the living room, arguing. Sherlock was in his usual suit, prepared for a case. "Sherlock, a week ago, you were bloody shot, no cases for awhile." I had made tea for all of us, and brought it into the room, as a sort of peace offering. Sherlock ignored the tray and continued to scowl at the DI.

Lestrade sighed and took a mug, sipping it. "He barely got me, I'm absolutely fine, just ask John!" I froze, not wanting to get in the middle of the argument. It had been barely a week since we had first gotten together, and I didn't want our first row to be about something so stupid. Lestrade interjected, thankfully. "Sherlock, I don't think it's the best idea to go off of your boyfriend's opinion, who is dying to get a case, just as much as you. Not that I don't value your medical opinion," He glanced over at me, not meaning any offense. "No offense taken," I assured him and guided Sherlock to his chair.

Truth be told, he wasn't okay, his side had been hurting him in the past few days for the first time since the night of the shooting. We had gone to the doctor and gotten the medication, but it was still fighting off the infection. When I was sure Sherlock wasn't looking at me, I gave a small shake of the head to Lestrade to tell him not to give in. He got the message and shook his head at Sherlock. "No, and that's final. 3 days, with no cases at least. You two have a nice few days of now, got it?" I saw him off and came back to the room to see Sherlock staring out the window, with his back facing me.

"You sided with him." He stated, still staring out the window, hands in his pockets. I looked down for a second before walking over to him. "You're still in pain, it's not a good idea for you to be out there solving cases if you're still in pain, love. If you do, you can stress it more and be out of cases for longer." He huffed and turned to me.

"You need to let your body fight the infection. Three more days, Sherlock. That's not forever." I murmured, trying to convince him. He looked at me, still upset that I had sided with the DI, and then sighed. "I suppose not," he said, giving in. I felt the corners of my lips turn up, and his eyes softened. I couldn't stop myself from pulling myself to him, crashing our lips together.

I felt his smile through the kiss and he pulled away after a moment. "I would like to get out of the flat though," he muttered. "This place has got me going insane." I nodded along with him in agreement. As much as I loved just hanging out at the flat with Sherlock, we both needed something more to do. We were both 'restless souls' as Mrs. Hudson had said. That was quite true, I had to admit. We both seriously enjoyed our resting time together, I could see us doing more of it in the future, but we were both starting to get cabin fever.

"Alright, but nothing too crazy," He smiled a tad mischievously at me again and brought our foreheads together. "No promises," I laughed and placed a small kiss on his nose. We stared lovingly at each other for a moment before he brought his lips to mine. Fireworks went off in my head, not just mere sparks. Fireworks of all colors, loud and bright. I wrapped my hands around his neck, and his arms wrapped around my waist. I broke this kiss off, murmuring, "Fireworks." The corners of Sherlocks bow-shaped lips turned down in confusion.

"Sorry?" He asked, clearly not understanding what I meant. "You know the love cliche, of sparks going off when you meet, or kiss, or whatever?" He nodded, still not quite getting where this was going. "I don't see or feel sparks going off, Sherlock." His eyebrows furrowed deeper. I laughed lightly before continuing, "No I don't, love, I really don't. I feel fireworks going off, lighting my world up in ways I didn't know were even possible."

Sherlock's lips pulled upwards again as he registered my words. "Well, then I don't feel sparks either. As you said, fireworks." He smiled against my lips, and I giggled. I knew we must've looked like love struck teenagers, repeating all of the cliches, but I didn't care, and it appeared that Sherlock didn't either. After a few minutes, Sherlock pulled back again, and I sighed quietly. There was always something. "Can we please go out today though?" I rolled my eyes and nodded, "if you're okay with dealing with reporters and the like." He groaned, his head tipping back.