A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Sherlock.

I have no beta.

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Sherlock Holmes stared at the door to his room. For the past few weeks, someone had been coming by, stapling waffles to his door and on the waffles, was usually a note.

No one else in the dorm saw who did it, though he doubted they'd tell him anyway. No one really liked Sherlock, not like he made it easy for them.

He entered the room, which he paid to have all by himself, and went to find the staple remover.

This waffle, had a card with it.

Grabbing the folded card, he examined it. Generic. Bought in the gift shop. No hint there. The message inside was typed by an old fashioned typewriter. Who in the university had one of those?

You're sexy.

Compared to all the other notes which had something along the lines of 'you're brilliant' and 'how do you do it?', this was new.

And, unlike the other times, Sherlock discreetly looked to his left and his right, before shoving the card in his pocket and going about removing the waffle from the door.


Running late, but then again he really didn't care. And he really wanted some food after that long case that Mycroft gave him. Digestion slowed his mental workings down with use of excess energy. But now he could replenish.

Stopping in a small diner not too far from the campus, he was waited on by an attractive blond whom was a fellow classmate. He'd only talked to him maybe three times, but he knew John Watson rather well.

On scholarship, not as much of an idiot as everyone else, really good at math. John came from a small family and had a sister who was a drunk, a mother who was a nag, and a father who was a convict. He wanted to get away from them and even planned to join the army. He was good with his hands.

"What can I get for you?" John asked, smiling warmly.

John was always smiling. Sherlock had never seen him not smile.

Thinking back to the past few months, Sherlock sighed. "Waffles with strawberries on top, please."

He barely remembered the 'please'. Mycroft would be so proud.

"Anything to drink with that?"

"Water."

"Coming up!"

John flipped his note pad closed and turned. Sherlock's eyes trailed to John's fingers, which were covered in worn black and blue spots. Not bruises. Ink.

Ink.

Waffles.

No.

When John came back, setting Sherlock's glass on the table, Sherlock looked him over more closely. Nothing ever suggested John Watson to be homosexual or anything other than heterosexual. He certainly flirted with the female students enough.

John left and returned with a large plate of waffles covered in strawberries and a small bowl of syrup on the side.

"Enjoy, Sherlock!"

John departed, leaving Sherlock to his thoughts.

He began separating his waffles so that he could cut them up, when he spotted a small piece of ripped paper under his first waffle.

Want to go for dinner later this evening? -JW

Sherlock looked up catching the eye of his waiter who was smiling at him from across the diner.

Deciding to take a chance, Sherlock pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled his answer on the back. He placed the paper on the edge of the table and continued to his food.

John conveniently came over with a pitcher of iced water to refill Sherlock's glass of still full water. He snatched up the paper and grinned even wider. "Excellent!"

I know a good Chinese that stays open until 2 am. -SH


So John was the waffle offender.

The next week, when Sherlock returned to his room which he was now sharing with one John Hamish Watson, he simply rolled his eyes at the waffles and the greeting stapled to the door.

THE WAFFLE HOUSE: WHERE WAFFLES BRING PEOPLE TOGETHER!

He opened the door, "John, I must insist that you change the color of the font on the door, pink is atrocious!"


A/N: Done!

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