A Study In Sleep

Chapter. 2

The bullets tore through and silence fell upon them in its wake. The Captain spoke but his words were lost in the deafening silence.
Crackling waves of smoke moved with sand. Then a loud thud and the icy bloodied image of Sherlock dead, again.

John woke up almost instantaneously to the sound of something shattering. Perplexed and dazed by reality he jumped up, throwing on his dressing gown and swiftly made his way downstairs, "what on earth-" he was about to complain when he saw the detective in the kitchen.

The detective had woken early, laid in bed as he listened to johns soft breathing from upstairs. He wanted to do something right, he wanted to make John forget his nightmares so he decided to cook breakfast. He wasn't incapable - in fact, Sherlock was a good cook.

He firstly set up the table, plates, cutlery, some orange juice he found. Salt and pepper, the delivered newspapers and a few condiments. He then began to cook, deciding on eggs, bacon, tomato and mushrooms. Or in other words, what he found in the fridge. In the process he smashed a small plate, knocking it off the side to which he quickly disposed of, though this woke the sleeping blogger and before Sherlock would say anything, John was there.
"Good morning, John. I um.. thought breakfast would be nice for us." He smiled, cheeks turning the slightest pink once again.

The blogger rubbed his eyes tiredly, "good morning, Sherlock.. I heard a noise?" He let out a small yawn, "Is everything okay?" He then asked,looking to Sherlock. His own hair all poofed up and fluffy, as a reminder of the fact he had be tussling round in his sleep. He took a seat next to the kitchen table, looking at all the condiments, salt and pepper and everything, "and why were you cooking breakfast?" He asked curiously, "you're never usually up this early?"
Sherlock watched as John sat at the table, the taller man now smiling a little with the faintest blush.
"I just.. you had a rough night and.. well.. I just thought it would be.. nice?" He frowned a little as he placed a pot of tea on the table with a smile before beginning to plate up some food for them. He was thankful his back was turned as he couldn't help but blush deeper, not knowing what was wrong with him and why John was able to make him feel this way.

"Nice?" John questioned, this felt out of character to John. Reminding him somewhat of Baskerville, "so you're sure it's not an experiment this time?" He asked, looking up at the brunette, slightly admiring those Raven curls of his.

Sherlock turned to John with the plates of deliciously cooked food. It was rather a surprise he was a good cook. He looked innocently down at John, blue eyes wide and pure.
"I promise you it isn't an experiment.. I just wanted.. to do this." He oddly stated, though it was true, he just wanted to treat that man, he had done so much for him.

"Well thank-you.." John smiled up at Sherlock, feeling a little taken back. The delicious smell of the food making its way into his nostrils, as he inhaled, "it smells delicious.." he said, looking up into Sherlock's eyes. The wide bottoms of the plates, staring at him as he looked up. He paused for a moment thinking, "would you care to join me?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.
Sherlock stood still with the plates in his hands, blue eyes never leaving John like he had zoned out before eventually clicking back to reality.
"Yes.. of course.." he pointed out as he placed the plates down, sitting opposite John as he grabbed a newspaper, crossing a leg over the other. As he read over a page he poured some tea into the cups on the table for the both of them. He was unaware that his curls were a wild mess from the previous night as he sat there in his dressing gown.

John couldn't help but give a smile and slight blush when he felt his leg brush against Sherlock's, under the table. "This looks great.." he smiled looking at the plates as he picked his cutlery, "I never knew you could cook.." he chuckled lightly.
Sherlock instantly paused as he felt John's leg against his own, eyes never flickering or showing he noticed even though he very much did. Though he glanced up from the paper as John said this before averting his gaze back to the newspaper.
"I like to keep people guessing.." he almost flirted as he began to eat with just his fork as he read the paper, internally smiling that John liked his cooking.

John nibbled at bits of his breakfast, starting with, what looked liked, eggs, using both his knife and fork to cut it up and skewer it to the toast, "yeah, I know you do.." he glanced up from his food, lightly smirking as he spoke eating a bit, "I used to cook for Harry and me, when we were younger.." he reminisced, "nearly set the house on fire.."

Shelrock listened closely to this, gazing up from the paper as he pushed it aside to begin eating with John. The blonde male having his whole focus. He adored when John told stories about him and he couldn't help but smile a little.
"Thank god you can cook now." He teased in response as he began to eat, Sherlock being a much slower eater.
"My mother taught me.. and Mrs Hudson a little.. though I don't do it often, when I do.. I enjoy it." He smiled a little.

"Good thing too," John nodded slightly, eating a little more, "I just taught myself really.. sure it was s bit of trial and error, but well that's food for you.." he prodded at one of the sausages slightly, "you know, you should probably cook more often.." he opened his mouth and bite into the sausage, his mouth opening rather wide.
Sherlock watched rather innocently as John ate the sausage, eyes wide as he lost his words for a moment.
"Ssssum.. Yes.. maybe.. yes.." he mumbled gazing back to his food as he took small bites from his food, his leg brushing John's once again, Sherlock inwardly screaming, though his face was straight as if he didn't even register it.

"Sorry about that.." John giggled slightly, realising how rude it may have seemed, placing his cutlery down as he heard the phone go off, blushing slightly as their legs brushed again when he got up, "I'll get that.." he said, trying to hide his face whilst picking up the phone. His back facing Sherlock as he answered.

God, he knew he should have eaten that sausage like that..

Sherlock watched John with wide eyes, frowning in irritation as they were interrupted by the phone call. He huffed in annoyance, grabbing he newspaper as he began to try and read it but he was distracted, glancing over to John and admiring his short, but well built physique, his cheeks turning pink as he did so. He shook his head, eyes fixed on the paper now. It was barbaric and he didn't understand why he felt this way.

"Yes.. okay then.. we'll be straight over." John spoke on the phone, jotting down notes on a scrap piece of paper, "M-hm.. okay. See you." He hung up, placing the phone down. "Sherlock?" He asked, looking over to the kitchen as he made his way over, "that was Sargent Dimmock, he's wanting us, well specifically you, for a case concerning a robbery or something.." he notified.

Sherlock frowned at this, a face of protest gracing his features.
"What? No. I'm not going - I was having breakfast with you." He stated dad he sat there, refusing to move and probably the first he was turning down a case for.. something much more important. His blue eyes were wide and innocent as he gazed to John.

"He's says it's important though? And he can't get anybody else on the scene.." John tried to persuade Sherlock to come, "breakfast can wait.." he said, putting the scrap piece of paper, with the address on, beside Sherlock, "please?" He asked, softly.

Sherlock glanced to the paper before sighing, getting to his feet rather stroppily, the detective now in a foul mood.
"Fine." He snapped, dumping the remainder of their left breakfast on the table so he stomped to his room to get changed.

John sighed to himself, clearing up everything else before going up to his room to change into some fresher clothes.