Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.
A/N: This is my first Sherlock story. The idea came to me during a conversation with a friend. Well, I say friend. Arch-enemy is a more appropriate term. Our relationship is complex.
Taking A Break
Sherlock Holmes is bored. He's half sitting, half lying on the sofa, arms folded. "Sherlock, stop sulking." John says from behind his copy of the Standard.
"I'm not sulking."
"You are."
"Shut up, John."
"Alright, what's put you in such a foul mood?" The doctor asks, lowering his paper.
"I'm not in a 'foul mood', as you put it." Sherlock replies, spitting out the words.
"How would you put it?"
"I'm a little stressed, that's' all. Being the world's only consulting detective isn't the most relaxing profession."
"Then take a break."
"I can't take a break!" Sherlock exclaims, as though it's the most ridiculous suggestion he's ever heard.
"Why not?" John asks, putting down his paper altogether, deciding to humour him.
"I can't. I don't have time."
"Then make time."
"I can't just take a break! Do you not realise the implication of being me?" The detective cries.
"You'll make yourself ill, Sherlock." John can't count the number of times he's said this since moving into Baker Street.
"No I won't. What's the worst that can happen?"
"You'll exhaust yourself. Everyone has their limit."
"I don't."
"Yes, you do. Stop hiding from reality. You need to take a break."
"I can't. I don't take breaks."
"Why don't you try it?"
"I don't have time. Even if I did, I wouldn't know what to do." Wouldn't know what to do? John knows Sherlock said he didn't take breaks, but really?
"Sleep." He offers, saying the first thing that comes into his head.
"Sleep's boring. I don't sleep, you know that."
"Then just rest."
"Boring." The doctor struggles not to scream, trying to keep his voice calm.
"Try it, Sherlock."
"Alright. But only to prove that it won't change anything." Closing his eyes, Sherlock lies back. Satisfied, John pick up his paper again and begins trying to find the article he was reading.
The consulting detective lies there for what feels like forever.
"Alright, that didn't work." He exclaims, sitting up abruptly.
"You've been lying down for less than five minutes, Sherlock."
"And it was boring." Sighing exasperatedly, John puts his paper down again.
"Sherlock-" He begins, but he's interrupted by the consulting detective's text tone. Seconds later, the taller man jumps up from the sofa.
"Come on, John! We've got a case!"