~~Hey everyone! This is my first BBC Sherlock fic. so don't hate me! I hope I will keep up with this story for a long time, but when my express classes start at University in March things may get a little crazy :P anyway, here you go Sherlockians, I hope you all enjoy :) ~~

"Sherlock." John had said the man's name at least seven times. How is it possible for someone to be so completely unaware?

"Okay, I give up. I'm going out for a while." He paused and looked up towards the ceiling, as if perhaps someone up there at least heard what he was saying. "Why do I even bother telling him anything if he won't listen?" John was mumbling to himself as he tied his dirty old walking shoes.

"John. While you're out I need you to get a bottle of liquid argon."

"….where the hell am I supposed to find argon?"

"Liquid argon, John, and I'm sure it's not that difficult to find."

"Yeah, right, okay. Look I'm actually just going out for a quick walk."

"I'm sure it won't be that out of your way. London is a big city John. You can find anything you need on any street corner."

"Right, I'll try to remember to look for it. And Sherlock? I really don't want to see on some shop telly that our flat's been blown up while I'm out."

No reply.

John took this to mean it was officially time to leave the dark haired man to his… whatever-they-were thoughts.

He'd been out walking for at least an hour with his ipod before he finally made the hurried decision to please Sherlock's ridiculous request. He took the tube to the end of the line where St. Barts was awaiting him at the top of the dirty underground steps. He figured besides Sherlock there was really only one other person that he knew of who might have a clue.

"Molly," said John announcing himself as he walked into her wing.

"Oh, hello John!" she said with her usual sweet countenance. And then as always her expression instantly turned to apprehension. "Is Sherlock with you?" she asked smiling weakly.

"Ah, no. No it's just me. Do you by any chance have liquid argon?"

"It's in the back. Just let me go fetch it."

He thanked her with a polite nod and within a minute she'd returned with a little bottle.

"So what's he up to this time then? It's always something with him isn't it." She said handing him the strange liquid stuff.

"I actually have no idea. He's probably doing some sort of experiment I'll never really see the point of."

"It's funny, who knew anybody could actually live with Sherlock for so long and not run away. I guess we all have to keep things interesting though."

"Yeah, he's…yeah." John knew she would talk on and on about Sherlock if he didn't say something quick. "Well, I should really let you get back to your work. Sherlock will be expecting me back with this."

"I'll look forward to seeing you both again soon then I guess."

John looked around the morgue wondering if her last statement was a positive thing or not. He decided the best thing was to wave it off.

"Right well, see you later then." He said and he thanked her again on his way out the door.

Molly had a point. How had he stayed with Sherlock this long? Most people would flee the moment they realized there were human thumbs in the fridge. Why had he been so tolerant of his flatmate's odd behavior? Actually the real question was, why did he insist on going with Sherlock on all of his twisted and potentially life threatening endeavors? Sure it was exciting. Mycroft had made that evident to him from the very beginning days. But that seemed like a poor excuse for throwing oneself into peril all of the time. There had to be a stronger reason.

Perhaps he was just very intrigued by his friend's eccentricities. Or perhaps he enjoyed getting to see his beautiful body every day.

No.

No. That could not be it. Sherlock was strange, and a complete model sociopath, and slightly morbid, and way too intelligent for humanity. No, no, no. But he was incredibly…well, a lot of things made him incredible.

John spent the remainder of his tube ride back to Baker St. imagining his friend's hair as he let it air dry around the flat after putting on his blue bathrobe. Did he wear anything under it?

Okay this wasn't the first time John Watson had had thoughts like this about Sherlock Holmes. But perhaps he was silently beginning to at long last give in to them.

~~Okay! So I realize this first chapter is a little on the short side. Hopefully they will be longer from here on out. Do expect quite a bit of sexual tension in upcoming chapters. I realize who my audience is. I am one of you. We like it this way haha. Also I've just gone ahead and rated it M just in case my mind decides to go a little crazy :) Cheers! X ~~