Beginning Note: I don't own BBC's Sherlock, nor am I making a profit of this in any way.
Ships
"Did you know," Sherlock began as John stumbled down the stairs for breakfast, rubbing his red eyes and glaring disdainfully at the violin propped against the taller man's chin. "That many of the officers at the police department believe that we are a couple?"
The blonde just paused with his foot on the last rung, looking up at his flatmate as if he's grown a second head. "And you're just noticing this now, Sherlock?"
Dark, curly hair whipped slightly as he made a defiant gesture that was meant to inform John that of course he knew. "They are now placing bets as to the state of our relationship, and 'shipping' -whatever that ridiculous term means- us, though they claim to have gotten the idea from your blog."
The half-dressed man just gave a weary sigh and continued his trek to the kitchen.
"Did you not hear me, John?"
"I heard you." he informed, putting the kettle on. "I'm just trying to decide what part of that mess of information I want to address first."
Sherlock padded toward him, silently questioning.
"You know you could let me wake up some first, before you start bombarding me with this nonsense." there was silence at his back and he sighed again before turning to face his companion; arms folded together, and legs crossed at the knee as he leaned back against the counter beside the stove. "Shipping is an internet term that basically means you support the not-real relationship of fictional characters."
"We're not fictional, John."
"I'm aware Sherlock; over the past couple of years it's been applied to just about any persons you think should pair up." John rubbed his temples then, thoroughly regretting rising from bed that day. "And before you ask: no, I don't know why we've got our own ship. Things just happen when you get on the internet."
"So you mean to tell me you don't support the idea of our 'ship'?"
The shorter man just looked up at his companion and gave a long, slow blink. "I'm not gay, Sherlock."
He shrugged in reply. "You're not straight either, as you have so pointedly omitted."
"What?"
"You always say that you are 'not gay'. Never that you are 'straight'. It's a very pointed, and obvious omission, John. Subtly has never been your forte." And with that, Sherlock Holmes was spinning around again, violin poised to play once more. But he didn't begin another song. Not yet, anyway. "You should think more John; we could easily cash in on these bets they are making toward the state of our relationship. It could be amusing, at any rate; with or without letting them know."
The kettle started to whistle sharply; John didn't hear it for staring in shock at his flatmate.
"I'm not going to pretend to date you for money, Sherlock."
"I never said anything about pretending, John."
The sound of his violin began once more where it had cut off.
Note: So I had an idea and ran with it. Hopefully it's as cute as I thought it was. Another gift for Miss Selah, since she'd asked for cute and fluffy, and got le angsting the last time instead.
