It was a quiet and uneventful Sunday morning at Baker Street. John had been promised a very well merited break from the surgery, and he had been assured that he would not be called in unless the surgery was extremely shorthanded or desperate. So, although he had awoken at his usual time of six am, he had been lounging around languidly, reading the paper in his dressing gown and sipping his cuppa lazily.

Sherlock had been distracting himself with an experiment measuring fungal growth in detached phalanges since lunchtime Friday. He would never admit it out loud to John, but he was somewhat enjoying the quiet weekend. He could never reduce himself to sitting on the couch and, say, watching crap telly, but his current level of relaxation was quite enjoyable. His experiment was simple enough to allow his usually hyperactive mind to take a breather, while not suffering from that painful boredom that he so detested.

Sherlock looked up slowly, his eyes fixing on John, who had finished his tea and was stretching slowly, yawning a bit and rubbing his eyes. Sherlock smiled slightly without thinking. He was glad to see the doctor getting a bit of rest and relaxation. The pair had been occupied with back to back cases for what seemed like an eternity. Four weeks of small, though demanding, cases hadn't really given Sherlock much trouble, as he was used to minimal sleep when his mind would be occupied with the task of solving a mystery. But, for John, who had to continue going into the surgery every weekday, regardless of how long he had been running around with the genius the previous night, fatigue levels had been nearly unbearable.

John stood suddenly, reaching for his mug and heading towards the sink to deposit it there. He noticed Sherlock staring at him, and coughed softly, startling the taller man from his thoughts.

Sherlock gave him a shy smile, and then quickly returned to his work.

John furrowed his brow slightly, and then shrugged. He could never know exactly what Sherlock was thinking at any given moment, and, he really couldn't be bothered to try at the moment.

John advanced to the sink, turning on the tap and filling the used mug halfway to let it soak. When he was finished, he walked back over to his flatmate and spoke.

"Sherlock," he said softly, not wanting to annoy the man, as he was clearly immersed in his project, "would you mind not calling me for any cases today?" He paused, looking up at the detective, as he hadn't broken his concentration on his petri dishes. John hoped he was listening, and continued to talk. "I'm quite knackered from our…adventures from the last few weeks, and I'd really like to just…take a day off." He paused again, still not seeing a reaction from the other man. "Hope that's alright with you," he finished, exhaling loudly.

Sherlock sat up straighter, breaking away from his experiment. After a few seconds, he turned to look at John, who had been about to leave his side, not having received any answers thus far. "Yes, yes, of course. Take a break." Sherlock tried to keep his disappointment from his voice. It was selfish of him to expect John to not want a bit of time to himself, wasn't it? Something about being sensitive to others' needs? In any case, he reasoned that it would probably be best to let John take a day to himself.

John was a little taken aback. He had been expecting a bit of a tantrum from his flatmate, where he'd whine a bit about how John's 'funny little brain' couldn't handle the stress of the cases, and groan about having to go to the Yard without him, where he'd have to deal with Anderson and Donovan's snide remarks on his own. And, had that been a twinge of…disappointment in Sherlock's voice?

John nodded quickly, trying to read Sherlock's expression. But, of course, the detective had already turned his attention back to his fungal fingers; effectively shutting John out of the conversation. John rolled his eyes and made his way back to his chair, where he picked up his laptop and began to chronicle their last few cases.

Around 9:30, Sherlock heard his mobile ring. "John?" he called, unwilling to move from his position at his microscope.

John rolled his eyes, but complied with his flatmate's demands. He followed the muffled ring, finding the mobile under a pile of papers on the coffee table. He answered the phone, putting it on speaker so Sherlock could hear as well. "Hello?" said John, pacing back towards Sherlock.

"Hey, John," said Lestrade from the other end. He sounded shaken and a bit uncomfortable. "Is Sherlock available?"

John was about to answer when Sherlock leaned over and snatched the phone from John. "Speaking," he said, turning off the speakerphone and lifting the phone to his ear. John frowned. Why the sudden need for privacy? Had John lost his privilege to know about the cases because he wanted a break?

"Mmm. Alright. I'll be there in ten minutes." He paused, listening to Lestrade on the other end. "No, I'll arrive alone." He glanced over at John, who cocked him an eyebrow. Sherlock furrowed his brow and turned away again.

"Are you sure?" He asked, looking over at John again. "Fine. I'll call again in a moment." He unceremoniously hung up the phone, standing and turning to face John. "Apparently, you're wanted at the scene. There's been a murder, and Lestrade is under the impression that I am useless if not accompanied by you."

John gave Sherlock a confused look. He couldn't detect any malice or sarcasm in his tone. There was just…what? Was it an admission of need? Or was he just paraphrasing Lestrade in fewer, harsher words?

John huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking defiant. "Sherlock, you said I could take a break. I have never asked for one before, and, right now, I am exhausted. You were just fine before I moved in here and became your 'assistant;' I'm sure you can survive one case without me." He tried his best to sound assertive, expecting Sherlock to pout a bit for not getting his way.

But, instead, Sherlock merely nodded. "Alright. I'll send your regards to Lestrade." And, with that, he grabbed his iconic coat and was out of the flat.

A/N: Oh my God, I just wrote my first chapter of fanfiction ever! Aha!

That being said, I am extremely new to this, so I do apologize if my writing is really bad. This is just something I'm trying out to see if I like it! :)

Reviews would be like candy after a failed diet, so yes, please do review, if you'd like.

Thank you for reading!