"He's in a real mood today," John grumbled. He stirred his tea with his finger as he looked out the window and onto the street below. "He 'doesn't need my help', yet he's moody, snaps at me. . . I know mostly it's low blood sugars since he never eats when he's on a case. It's been three days! He about bit my head off when I tried to get him to take half my sandwich. . ."
Mrs. Hudson nodded as she set a plate of biscuits in front of John. He grabbed at them, sulking, acting out almost as much as he complained Sherlock did.
"Didn't even finish my lunch. Just came down here."
"Now, you can't worry about him so much, John. He's been this way since I've known him and longer still than that. But I know it's hard when you love him."
John made a face, but didn't bother to correct her on the fact that he and Sherlock we're not in love. The truth was, though it had nothing to do with homo-erotic attraction, Sherlock had become part of his life and he did care for him deeply.
"You just have to know how to deal with him. If he act's like a child, he should be treated as a child. Any time you really want him to eat, you just need to know one simple trick..."
John returned to the upstairs rooms and, after locating his mothers cookbook, he headed strait for the kitchen. Sherlocks mood and not improved and he kept himself confined to a small area of the living room, curled up with a laptop. John didn't bother to check whos laptop it was.
It took him a few hours to realize John had even come back to their flat. What alerted him to the other presence wasn't John busteling about the kitchen, but rather the smells. "John... is that banana's I smell?" He looked up from the computer and peered into the kitchen. Sure ehough, John was leaning over some project, smiling. This sparked further investigation. Laying the laptop to the side, he stood, stretched his long, lanky form and moved into the kitchen.
Pie. John was slicing banana's over a pie.
"Is that... Is that Banoffee Pie?"
"Oh, you've had it? Mum's recipe. Take's about four hours. She made it with a biscuit crumble crust..."
He tried not to look to smug at the look in Sherlock's eyes. They had grown large and slightly glazed.
He didn't even look up at John when he asked, "I don't suppose you mind sharing?"
"Not at all. help yourself..."
Sherlock smiled.
"That is after you've had some proper food."
Sherlock snapped his head up, brows knit and mouth slightly agape.
John laughed a little.
"Come on. dinners set out. Few bites, and we'll call it even."
There were a few moments of silence; an internal battle. John felt slightly odd under the hard stare. Before he could break the silence and tell Sherlock to just get a piece of pie, the tall dark haired man threw himself into a chair at the table, mumbling. John couldn't help but smile. Four hours of work was worth it to see Sherlock actually eating. He would have to remind himself to do some thing really nice for Mrs. Hudson. One simple trick and Sherlock's weakness: Banoffee Pie