My friend and I were talking about Sherlock and how AMAZING Benedict's eyes are and how he always pops his collar in that super sexy way of his and just then this guy jogs past the car in really short shorts so naturally, she goes "Oh my god can you imagine Benedict Cumberbatch wearing those with his coat and scarf?"
This is the result. :D
Sherlock groaned and threw himself down on the couch for what seemed like the thousandth time this week. John glanced up for his computer at the other man for about half a second before turning back to his blog. "I need a case!" Sherlock complained, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. John simply rolled his eyes, too used to Sherlock's theatrics by this point.
From the corner of his eyes, John saw Sherlock move and he looked up once again to see the detective stand and cross the room; watched as he removed the nicotine patches from his arm and replace them with five new ones. John wasn't entirely sure that that much nicotine at once was a good idea, but the last thing he wanted to do was start arguing with him.
He really wished Sherlock would get a hold of himself or stay still at least. He very much preferred the quiet, hermit-like Sherlock that stay on the couch for days without eating or speaking over this loud, restless version of him. Or even the version where he would play that stupid violin for days without end. At least then Sherlock was wearing actual clothes instead of just a t shirt and his boxers.
His phone started ringing and John watched as Sherlock practically jumped across the room to get to it in time to answer the call. "Sherlock Holmes," he answered, listening to the voice on the other line. He saw Sherlock's eyes light up and John knew what was going on before the words were even spoken. Sherlock hung up the phone and rushed to the closet, donning his coat and scarf, he rushed down the stairs and out the door. "Let's go, John!" he shouted before the door slammed shut behind him.
John sighed, and threw his own jacket over his arm before rushing down the stairs after him. "Sherlock!" he called, opening the door and seeing the man rushing down the street in search for a taxi. Sherlock quickened his pace and John wondered for a moment whether or not Sherlock was just going to run all the way to the crime scene.
"Sherlock, you're not wearing any pants!" John called, hoping that Sherlock would at least start to slow down so that he could catch up.
Sherlock turned around, still running, and started wrapping his scarf around his neck. "This is not time for pants, John!" he yelled, turning back around just in time to avoid running into a lady pushing a baby carriage who gave him a disgusted look. "We've got a case!" Sherlock cheered and from where John was (still a good twenty feet behind him) he saw Sherlock pop his collar.