Just a Fluffy Johnlock

Just Another Fluffy Johnlock

Chapter One

AN: This is just a warning that this is one of my first stories so it's gonna suck ok, bye.

One plain day on Baker Street, Sherlock and John were at 221 B procrastinating before a much dreaded visit to Mycroft's home.

"Must we go see Microsoft?"

"Sherlock, do you want to get part of your father's will or not?"

"I don't want anything to do with any of my family."

"Well you don't have any money toward retirement so we have to go, and this is the LAST time we are discussing this."

Sherlock sighed deeply and rolled his eyes and slid his hands into each other in a steeple like form.

John turned into the kitchen muttering, "Mind Palace" under his breath.

Once in the kitchen, John looked around the cabinets for something to eat, deciding not to venture into the fridge (Sherlock had been making "soup" the other day) , Finally finding some bread and raspberry jam.

As he set the bread in the toaster, he called out into the living room;

"Sherlock, I'm making toast and jam, do you want some?"

Sherlock thought this out in his head. Why is John offering him food, why toast? It's lunch time! Oh right, he had left a bowl of soup in the fridge from his last investigation.

He must remember not to do that, he recalled how upset it made John last time. He really didn't like seeing John upset, it made him, what did it make him? Disstressed? Sad? That was it, sad. How odd. But back to John's inquiry, did he want toast and jam?

"What kind of jam?"

"Raspberry on whole wheat."

"Then yes, I'd like some toast."

"Great. After that we have to go to Mycroft's, OK?"

" Fine."

The two quickly ate their brunch together on the couch, then ran outside to catch a cab. As they eased into the leather seats, John told the driver the address. The cabby replied,

"Oh the Buckingham Palace, huh? Have friends in the royal family?" he joked.

"No actually, just the upper government." Sherlock said seriously.

The cab driver laughed, but realizing Sherlock wasn't joking, he coughed and said instead;

"So how long have you two been together?"

"No! No we're not, I'm not... Why does everyone..." John stuttered out.

"Pardon. My mistake." the cabbie murmured, and continued to drive.

Eventually they arrived, and Sherlock paid the man, stepping elegantly out of the vehicle with John. Off they went.