Sherlock, You Will Be The Death Of Me..

John looked up from his steaming tea that Sherlock had set in his numb hands, the steam feeling heavenly on his skin. "Sherlock, You will be the death of me.." He mutters, taking a sip.
Sherlock just swallowed, nodding and turning around to go occupy himself. "Although.." John's voice stopped him in his tracks. "To be one hundred percent honest.." Sherlock turns at a 180 degree angle, his eyes locking with the sandy haired soldier. Who just smiles and says softly, "I wouldn't want to die any other way."