John looked up from his empty blog page as Sherlock snapped his ringing phone open. "Sherlock Holmes" he said into the speaker. As a small smile spread across his face and John sighed relief and closed his laptop, getting up to grab his coat and shoes. After two weeks of Sherlock's boredom inside the house (which included many bullet holes, severed body parts scattered throughout the house, screeching violin composing at three in the morning and lots of "experiments") they finally had another case.
Sherlock looked at John and seeing him already at the door, turned his head slightly as he smiled. John is learning, he thought. His deduction skills are growing, impressively at that. His heart skipped a beat at the thought and, confused at that, he brushed it off with a shake of his head. Grabbing him coat, he strode out the door with John a step behind him, off to another crime scene.
Climbing out of the cab, Sherlock practically ran to the body, looking a little too joyful to be at a murder scene. "Hello freak" Anderson and Donovan smiled in unison. "Ah, I see you two are still shagging together, and it seems you both are getting more serious about one another, though neither of you will admit it nor do you want to. I suggest calming things down a bit since Anderson, you're still married and you both agreed it would be meaningless sex. But that's none of my business, right? It would make it a lot easier to ignore it if Donovan stopped using your toothbrush, and buy an ironing board for Christ's sake, even idiots can tell you've worn that two days in a row, be more careful Donovan, you don't want his wife to catch you two." He finished his deduction in record time and walked past the police tape with John snickering behind him as Anderson and Donovan gave him their best death glares.
Sherlock examined the body, walking around in circles trying his very best to go to his mind palace, yet with Anderson thinking, it did make things a bit challenging. He thought harder and started to get lost in his mind palace until he ran straight into John. Yelpling as his arms pinwheeled, trying not to fall on the dead man's body, Sherlock's reflexes kicked in and he grabbing John's wrists, yanking him forward just before he lost his balance completely. Lestrade sighed relief, he didn't need John or Sherlock contaminating the body, explaining that to the higher authorities would not be fun. As John found his balance, he looked up to see Sherlock's face inches from his, still grasping his wrists tightly. "Uhm, She-Sherlock" he stammered, "I'm okay now, y-you can let go." Surprised at his own actions, Sherlock pulled back. "Right, sorry, are you alright? Of course you are, sorry."
He tried to get back to his mind palace, but found his train of thought was completely gone. He felt John's pulse while he was getting his balance, quickened. And his pupils looked dilated. Sherlock shook off a thought about John for the second time that night. Probably just a slight rush of adrenaline from us both, he concluded. Though not being able to think about the dead body before him anymore, he flipped out his phone and snapping a few pictures, grabbed the file from Lestrade and told him he'd be in touch. With John now keeping up with his pace, they hailed a cab and drove back to 221B Baker Street.