"Sherlock, come help me with the shopping." John called up the stairs to 221b.
There was no reply. He waited about 30 seconds before he decided it was a lost cause and just did it himself. When he entered the flat, he expected Sherlock to be deep in some experiment or just lying on the couch, but he wasn't in any of his usual places.
"Sherlock? Are you home?" John scowled.
It hadn't occurred to him that Sherlock might not be home, mostly because they didn't have a case, and when they didn't have a case he was the laziest person John had ever met. An idea occurred to him; Sherlock might be in his room. He hardly ever saw Sherlock go in there. He certainly didn't sleep there; when his brain just couldn't function any longer he usually just crashed wherever he was, whether it be on the couch or slumped over an experiment. The latter had always worried John; Sherlock knocking over dangerous chemicals in his sleep would not be good.
John nocked on the door, quite softly so that if Sherlock were asleep he wouldn't wake him. There was no reply. He opened the door a crack to see if he was actually in there. Well, he wasn't sleeping. He was lying on his back on the bed. Earphones in and humming under his breath. John smiled. He hadn't even known that Sherlock owned an iPod. John started to wonder exactly what kind of music the detective liked to listen to. He strained his ears, trying to catch the tune he was humming. Unconsciously, John took a step forward, desperately trying to hear what was playing. He didn't know there was a loose floorboard however; so when he put his foot down, a loud creak sounded.
Sherlock opened his eyes, startled. He tore the earphones out and sat up.
"How long have you been there?" Sherlock asked, sounding suspicious. He really had no need to be, he was always so defensive.
"Not long, I just came in to see if you were home. What are you listening to?" John questioned, curiosity evident in his voice.
"Music." Sherlock said with a sneer.
"Yeah, I know that. I meant what song, you numpty."
Sherlock gave a small snort at the word numpty. John had to admit, it wasn't a word he used often, but it had a nice ring to it.
"Not important. Do we have a case yet? I'm getting bored."
John sighed. Stubborn until the very end, he supposed.
"Lestrade hasn't called yet, so no. Just relax, go back to listening to your music. You can play it out loud if you want, I don't mind."
"No, it's fine. Trust me, we don't have the same taste in music."
"Well let's see, what's on that thing?" John said while walking over towards Sherlock, hand outstretched.
Sherlock moved as quickly as he did when they were chasing after a murder; he bounded off the bed, iPod in hand.
"What was all that for? It wasn't like I was going to snatch it out of your hands or anything."
"No reason, I just don't like people looking at my music."
"Why? Come on, you can't have anything that bad on there. I'm sure we have at least one or two bands in common. It's not like you like some horrible teen pop singer or something. is it?" John said with a snort.
Sherlock looked absolutely scandalized at the thought.
"Of course not! I said that we don't share the same taste, not that my music would make your ears bleed."
John gave a slight chuckle at that.
"Don't worry, I know you better than that. Though I obviously don't know you well enough to know your music tastes. Come on Sherlock, I'm really curious now. What do you have on that thing?"
Even though he had said he wasn't going to snatch it out of Sherlock's hands, the opportunity was too good to pass up. He lunged for it. John had always been good in a fight, even before the army. He may be smaller than average, but he was strong. Strength didn't seem to matter in this fight however, because as soon as he reached for the iPod, Sherlock stretched his arm as far above his head as it would go while balancing on his toes. John jumped, but he was still too damn short.
"Oh come on! That's not fair. I could just tackle you to the ground you know." He threatened.
It didn't sound all that menacing though; he couldn't keep the smile off his face.
"Before you even took your first step, I would have thrown this infernal device out of the open window." Sherlock said, his voice completely monotone.
John put his hands up as a sign of surrender.
"Ok, fine. Be a stubborn git for all I care. "
As John walked into the kitchen, he smiled to himself. This isn't over, not by a long shot.