One shots (johnlock fluff mostly)

Protective arny doctor part 2

A/N: so that's five people as of this moment that have requested a part two to part 1 of the "protective army doctor" so here it is ;'>

It was the next day, Sherlock woke by himself, lying in his own bed, cotton white sheets laid over the top of him, he couldn't honestly remember going to bed last night.

He did however recall one of the nicest dreams that had started out scary, possibly near rape and that had never happened but then John was there and John saved him. At the end of the dream John had kissed him and that was the last thing he remembered.

"Shame dreams aren't real" he muttered to himself as he slipped out of bed and looked down at himself, blue striped pajama bottoms and grey tshirt.

He sniffed at the air and he could smell a whiff of John's cologne, possibly an afterthought of the dream or some faint lingering smell from a time when John had been in his room. When? He couldn't remember.

Smell the air more and he could smell the sweet smell of batter, and syrup? Yes, definitely syrup. Pancakes or waffles?

He walked to the door and opened it, being hit more strongly with the smell from the kitchen. He exited with a smile on his face before heading into the kitchen where he knew John must be.

John stood there in his own pajamas, a blue robe wrapped around his muscular form.

"Morning Sher" John chirruped from where he was standing over the hob, turning a pancake over and letting it sizzle.

"Good morning John" Sherlock yawned, a small smile on his face as he took a seat at the table.

John ruffled a hand through Sherlocks hair and that's when it hit him, that the dream was real, he loved John.

And John loved him.

How the hell did he forget that!

"Yesterday, you-you said you--" Sherlock trailed off, unsure of his wording.

"Yesterday I told you I loved you, I meant every bit Sherlock, that wasn't a dream" John said softly but clearly, as though he'd read Sherlock like the open book that he was. John then bent down, tilting Sherlocks chin up with the crook of his finger so that his lips could peck the detectives quickly in assurance.

Sherlock smiled brightly, finally realizing he had everything he'd ever wanted, he had John. Ever so caring, gentle John.

John served him up the pancakes and handed Sherlock the golden syrup bottle. Sherlock flipped the cap and let the syrup drizzle out the end, possible cause for experiment on the gravitational pull of golden syrup and honey compared to that of water.

By the end of it all, once the plates were cleared, Sherlock had somehow managed to get syrup all over himself  to which john just chuckled at the sticky golden mess, kissing the corner of Sherlocks lips and tasting the sugary sweetness.

"You absolute donkey, 'sweetheart' is quite fitting now" John said with a light laugh, "run a bath my sweet" John whispered into his ear making a small shiver run down the detectives spine.

Sherlock left to have a bath and returned to find John in the living room sat at his computer, tapping at the keys in that perfect rhythm that felt so soothing to Sherlocks ears. Like the ticking of a grandfather clock.

"Right, I thought we try the pub again, I will go with you this time and we'll stick together, sound like a plan?" John asked, looking up from his laptop screen at Sherlock who was wearing nothing but his silk robe wrapped tightly around his torso.