"Sherlock."
"hmmm?"
"I was wondering, since we have nothing to do here over half-term break, if you'd, er, like to uh g-go to my house and spend a week in London?"
Sherlock padded over to John from the table where he was frying thumbs with acid and kissed him. Sherlock buried his head in John's neck and mumbled "Yes, a thousand times yes. I want to spend my Christmas with you."
"Wake up Sherlock", John kissed Sherlock's forehead, attempting to wake him up. All he got in response was a incoherent string of consonants. "Come on. We'll miss the train to London if we don't leave soon." That got Sherlock awake.
They arrived at the train station at 10:25, five minutes before their train was scheduled to depart. "Bloody cabbies", John thought, as he gozzed on the footpath. After a mad dash to the platform, John and Sherlock were seated in their compartment.
Shortly after the train pulled out of the station the stewardess came around with a refreshments trolley "Would you like any scran boys?", she asked. Sherlock replied "No thank you, we're good here." John asked Sherlock, "What in the bloody hell is scran?" "John, honestly, after going to school in North Yorkshire for two years now, one would hope that you picked up on the slang here, don't be so dull. Scran is food. Rather repulsive word though." "Alright, Sherlock, I'm not as brilliant as you are. Although, I do agree with you that scran sounds disgusting". Sherlock spent the rest of the train ride teaching John Northern slang.
"Well here we are", said John as the train pulled into the station in London.