"Green," Sherlock said, opening his eyes to look at John, sitting opposite him in his favourite chair.
"Sorry, what?" John looked up from his newspaper.
"I said Green."
"yes, so I heard. Why did you say Green?"
"Well, I think you resemble Green. It's fresh, yet classic." Sherlock sounded like stating a fact.
"Yeah, well. Obvious." John still didn't get it.
"Never mind. What colour do you think I resemble?"
John tilted his head a little, pursing his lips. "Purple."
"Ooh, interesting. What makes you think so?" Sherlock was captivated by the process, John could see. John smiled slightly. "A bit mysterous, unnatural."
"A tangerine," Sherlock broke the silence. "You're a tangarine."
"Thanks." John answered, a little offended.
"Small, refreshing and a bit sweet."
"You're like a watermelon," John snapped back, tired of Sherlock's game.
Sherlock lifted an eyebrow in response, defying John to elaborate.
"Pompous, watery, too big for his own good. Now please, newspaper," and with a sigh John returned to his newspaper.
"Hedgehog."
"Sherlock!" Annoyance surfaced in John's voice.
"Hedgehogs are small and cute, and so are you. Therefore, you're a hedgehog. What animal am I?"
John smiled and tilted his head. "You're arrogant and very pleased with yourself." Although the words could be harmful, John's eyes told a completely different story.
"You, Sherlock, are my own baboon."