"I'm bored."
"You're always bored, Sherlock."
"It's a stupidly long way to Scotland."
"…"
"What?"
"Nothing. Just…let's play a game. I say a word, and then you have to say the next word that comes into your head."
"Psychiatry, John?"
"No. Just a game."
"How pointless."
"You're the one who's bored. Dog."
"Cat."
"Kitten."
"Jumper."
"Knitting- wait, jumper?"
"Remember that green one with the kittens on it Harry got you for Christmas?"
"Jesus, I still see those googly-eyes in my dreams. Go on, knitting."
"Mrs Hudson."
"That's two words. Er…221B."
"Technically, that's three numbers and a letter. Skull."
"Bone."
"Body."
"Murder."
"Knife."
"Butter."
"Butter? Really John? Bread."
"Toast."
"Jam"
"Cake."
"Mycroft."
"Umbrella."
"Rain."
"Singing."
"What?"
"'Singing in the Rain'? It's a musical, go with that."
"Microphone."
"Comedy."
"Michael McIntyre."
"…"
"It was for a case."
"Television."
"Daytime."
"Nighttime."
"John."
"What?"
"That's the word. 'John'."
"…"
"You're blushing."
"Oh, shut up."
Wow, I dug this fic out from a long way back – the prompt was 'connection', in case you hadn't guessed. I promise I am working on a longer Sherlock fic, but it's taking way longer than I thought it would.
Thanks for reading, feedback welcome!
End.