I only own Katie
John groaned as he woke up.
He had had a rough night and wasn't really in the mood to deal with any of Sherlock's nonsense. John got himself out of bed and made his way to the bathroom to get ready. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
"I look horrible," John muttered, "if Sherlock sees me like this, I won't be able to go to work."
He got ready quickly and headed downstairs. He found Sherlock sitting on the couch, thinking like he always does.
"Good morning Sherlock," said John in a happy voice.
Sherlock said nothing; John was used to that. John went into the kitchen and made himself some tea. When he was at the table and drinking his tea, John jumps at a cool hand being placed on his forehead. It was Sherlock's hand. John froze in fear.
"You're running a temperature," Sherlock muttered.
John moved Sherlock's hand away from him.
"I'm not sick," John stated with confidence, looking up at him before moving into the living room.
"Yes you are," said Sherlock, following him.
"No I'm not," said John, before going into a coughing fit.
"When you came down the stairs and greeted me, you sounded somewhat congested," said Sherlock, standing in front of John, "you also didn't make any toast, which you always make in the morning before work, also offering me some. Last night, you were coughing and sneezing in your sleep, causing you wake up multiple times. Plus, your forehead is warm."
John sighed then took a deep breath, feeling another cough coming on. When John was coughing, Sherlock got the thermometer from the bathroom.
"Well, let's take your temperature," said Sherlock, holding the thermometer near John, "then later I'll go out and grab you some medicine."
"I'm not sick," John said once again.
"Yes John," said Sherlock, sighing, "you are. Your coughing, sneezing, and warm forehead are proof enough."
"I have work to do Sherlock," said John, getting mad, "someone needs to pay the bills."
"Well, in the condition you're in, you won't be able to," said Sherlock in a annoyed tone, "you won't be help to anyone at the surgery if you yourself are ill."
"Sherlock, I will not repeat to you again," said John in an angry tone, "I'm. Not. Sick."
Then John sneezed.
"Yes you are," Sherlock replied, "now, come here."
Sherlock launched himself at him. John dodged and raced to his coat, putting it on and running downstairs. He grabbed a cab before Sherlock could stop him. Sherlock got outside and watched the cab drive away, thermometer in hand.
"What's wrong?" a voice asked him.
Sherlock turned to his right and saw Katie looking up at him.
"Your father is sick," said Sherlock, sighing, "but he insisted on going to work anyway."
"We'll have to figure out a plan to get him back and to let him realize he's sick," said Katie, sighing as well.
Author's note: I wanted to say thank you to kie1993 for the title suggestion. Here's a cookie for you. (hands out a cookie) I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I'm working on the second chapter right now so you shouldn't have to wait too long.