A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Sherlock.

I have no beta.

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John was flipping through his emails, trying to find something interesting. Of course mostly everything was useless, so he simply deleted stuff or spammed stuff. The only interesting thing was a notification that he had been tagged on something on Facebook.

The doctor shrugged and clicked on it, waiting as the new page loaded.

Once it did, he was greeted with a peculiar sight. An old friend from Barts had posted something confusing and they were having a hard time figuring it out. John's head tilted as he too, tried to decipher this anomaly.

"Hey, Sherlock?" John called hesitantly.

"What?" the consulting detective mumbled from the sofa.

"I need your help, could you come here?"

"What do I get out of it?"

John sighed, "A massage."

Sherlock turned on the sofa, giving him and expectant look. "One hour?"

"Yes, fine. Now please come here."

The man bounced up from his seat and stepped over the coffee table. "What is it?"

John turned his laptop around and asked, "Is this dress gold and white or blue and black?"

Sherlock scoffed. "It's obviously blue and black, John. Now I want my massage."

John looked at the screen again, "Sherlock, it's white and gold."

The two stared at each other, unrelenting in their opinions.

"Blue and black."

"White and gold."

"Don't argue with me, John. You never in."

John sat back and frowned. "Fine then. If you refuse to admit it, no sex until you do."

Sherlock drew in a horrified breath. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Three years in the army, three years without sex. I can wait as long as I need to."

Sherlock would refuse to acknowledge it. He did not lose. He was simply making a strategic decision. He was looking out for his and John's future health. Therefore, he didn't lose anything. And really, if John was so happy to be lied to, then let him believe the lie.

The dress was blue and black. Sherlock knew it and that was all that was important.

And he still got sex in the end.

He won.


A/N: Done!

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