A/N Okay, so this is a new challenge I'm setting myself, where you awesome guys if you want to participate send me a fandom and a prompt word. This is my first one, enjoy! Oh yeah, if you like, send a review and if you'd like me to write another, put a fandom and a prompt at the end. Bye then :)
Fandom: Sherlock.
Prompt: Shoes.
John groaned. It really was too early for this. To be woken up by frustrated shouts and mad, irrelevant deductions from a borderline psychopath for a room mate. John wondered what could possibly have Sherlock up and at- he glanced at the clock- Seven Thirty. And once more, have him shouting the place down to it's foundations.
Sherlock burst in, hair more mussed than he'd ever seen it. "John, why aren't you up. I told you hours ago we had a case!"
"Hours ago when?" John furrowed his brow. "What, when I was asleep?"
"Maybe, I wasn't paying attention now come on, get up." He nearly spun out of the room but remembered something. "Have you seen my shoes?"
The question was so unexpected and out of character for Sherlock that John couldn't help but laugh. "You're not serious? No I haven't seen your shoes."
Sherlock hurried away, grumbling about disappearing shoes and finally getting good cases and being late for them. He heard him shout down the stairs at Ms Hudson, who obviously shouted something back about not being his housekeeper, and no she hadn't seen his shoes.
He showered and dressed quickly, but when he emerged from his room once again, Sherlock was moronically looking up the chimney shaft, as if his shoes could float up there.
"Look Sherlock, borrow a pair of mine, and we can go."
"Don't be ridiculous, that'd never work. They're too small!"
"Well unless you want to go barefoot."
"No it's fine, I have... something."
He left for his room, an when he returned moments later, he had dazzling white trainers strapped to his feet. John only glimpsed the consulting detective, in his usual suit and shirt, with the unfortunately bright, recreational footwear, and he was in peals of laughter. Tears were streaming down his face and he couldn't form any sort of articulate response.
Finally, still chuckling merrily, he straightened up and earnestly told his friend, "Come on. You wouldn't want to be late."