"John." Sherlock called as he lay in his usual spot on the couch. His slender hands brought together and gently placed on his lips.
"What is it now, Sherlock? More tea for the king?" John grumbled. He was reading the newspaper on his chair until Sherlock so rudely interrupted.
"Two." He replies.
"Two what?"
"Patches. I need two of them."
"Sherlock, why would I do that? You were doing so well! Don't quit n-"
"Two patches John. I need two. This i a two-patch problem. I have been quiet for weeks, I have resisted the urge to search this house from top to bottom. For God's sake, TWO PATCHES!" He huffed as he glared at John, fingers twitching.
"No, Sherlock. I am not going to let you stop now, you can't just give up. Would you like some tea instead? It might take off the edge." John said calmly.
"No. Tea won't do. I /need/ my patches John!" Sherlock yelled back.
"I'm done Sherlock. With your /brilliant/ mind, why don't you just deduce where I may have hidden them?" John spat back, getting out of his chair.
"It doesn't work that way John!" Sherlock complained.
"I don't care!" John yelled as he started to climb the stairs. Sherlock thought of yelling something back, but thought better of it, as John wouldn't be able to hear him anyways.
'Ordinary people' He thought to himself. 'Them and their childish mood-swings.'
YOU ARE READING
The detective and his doctor
FanfictionIn which we can see the daily lives of Sherlock and John through texts, phone calls, and just plain chats. We watch as they slowly start to admire each other. In a platonic way.
