A/N: Heyy! We've finally got another Sherlock story out! Hope you enjoy, we own nothing by the way. We love reviews, heck we practically throw a party every time we get a review. Sooooooo yah. Also, we're planning on setting up an update time, so if you prefer a certain day of the week for us to update, please tell us in a review. Thanks!
-Dante Pierre
They had just finished their fourth case and it wasn't even teatime yet. John sniveled. His nose had been running and his throat had been scratchy ever since Sherlock had dragged him out of his warm bed at four in the morning. Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem, but it so happened that John had had a date that kept him up until three in the morning. The lack of sleep plus the fact that is was early spring left John with a nasty cold.
"Sherlock. I'b sick." John announced.
"Obviously." Sherlock answered.
"I'b goig hobe."
"That would be the smartest thing to do."
"You're cobig too."
"No."
"Fine. I'b staying here."
Thirty-two minutes later, Sherlock was half-carrying John up the stairs to their flat.
"You're a bloody doctor! You should know better!" Sherlock angrily muttered.
"Stubborn." John replied with a small smile that disappeared with a small sneeze. Sherlock smirked, John was actually quite adorable when he was sick. Sherlock finally managed to get all of John's limbs in his bed after quite a frightful struggle. John was weak as a kitten and gravity was a pain in the arse. John watched Sherlock walk out and closed his eyes, trying to sleep. It didn't work. Seven minutes later John gave up.
"Sherlock!" He called out the best he could, which wasn't very loud. John had just accepted that his flatmate had left him alone in his time of need, when the Holmes in question appeared in the doorway.
"Sherlock, I can't sleep. I'b not tired."
"Not my problem." Sherlock said as he turned to leave.
"Wait. Can you tell me a story?" Sherlock looked at him.
"A story. I'm assuming that would help."
"Yes."
"Fine. A story." And so it began.