:) I don't own Sherlock or Merlin. Duhh. Please read and review my other stories! (And this one too!)
Sherlock's loud violin playing echoed up to John's bedroom. John glared at the alarm clock on his nightstand: 5:57 a.m. A very annoyed John rubbed his eyes and stumbled down the stairs to the second story. Sneaking up behind Sherlock was easy, especially when he was deep in thought. In one quick movement John grabbed Sherlock's bow and violin. Sherlock immediately twirled around, actually surprised by what happened.
"That's enough," John's voice held the attitude of a mother talking to a toddler, "Sherlock it's six a.m. and I haven't had any sleep all night. It's a three day weekend and unlike some people, I like to catch up on my sleep,"
"That's a lie. I heard you snoring a few hours ago," Sherlock said with a superior tone.
"It's a figure of speech. I meant I haven't got much sleep. There is that better,"
"Mmm, yes quite," Sherlock seemed to be satisfied but John just looked at him in disbelief.
"You can be such an arse sometimes, you know that right?"
Sherlock attempted to catch John off guard and he made a lunge for his violin. John deftly evaded him and held the violin behind his back.
"Military remember? Gee Sherlock it's so unlike you to underestimate my abilities," John said sarcastically.
"Give it back John," Sherlock demanded.
"No Sherlock, it's not going to happen. Either go make us some breakfast, sit down, or look at the wall," John pointed at the spray painted smiley face.
"Wait, so first you don't have enough sleep and now you're telling me to make sustenance for the both of us? Are you going back to bed?" Sherlock had a skeptical look on his face.
"It's breakfast Sherlock, breakfast. I can't go back to sleep alright? I'll just watch some telly and have a cup of tea. Could you allow me to have a relaxing morning?"
"Relaxing is boring,"
"Not to the rest of us,"
"Rest of what?"
"The normal people Sherlock! The people who have normal jobs, normal lives. The people who don't play the bloody violin all though the night,"
"Oh so you are simply pointing out the fact that I am different from the population of London. I am different John, I am better," Sherlock said arrogantly.
"You know what? I've had enough,"
"Where are you going? You're still in your robe," John was already half way down the stairs.
"So are you," John pointed out.
"John. John! Give me back my violin!" Sherlock called down. "Not a chance in hell! Find a way to keep yourself busy that doesn't cause me to have bloody sleep deprivation. Oh and please manage to NOT blow anything up."
"Would you boys keep your voices down? I get that you're having a little dispute but the neighbors don't have to know," Mrs. Hudson said in her sweet soft voice.
"Sorry Mrs. Hudson," Both John and Sherlock said in unison.
"Mrs. Hudson, do you mind if I watch some of your morning programs with you?" John asked.
"Of course not dear! I always enjoy your company,"
John sat himself down on Mrs. Hudson's quaint settee. Mrs. Hudson made a motion with her hands for John to scoot over.
"Sorry!" John apologized.
"It's no problem dear!" She squeezed John's leg in a friendly manor. Her glasses were around her neck, and she slid then up her nose and squinted at the TV guide, "Now, should we watch a rerun of that American show Project Runway? I think it's a bit too early for This Morning,"
John chucked, "Anything to get away from Sherlock!"
Smiling understandingly Mrs. Hudson said, "Of course dear. I know what lover's quarrels are like. I had a boyfriend once too you know!"
John pursed his lips and looked off into the distance, "You do know I'm not actually gay right?"
"Weeeellll,"
John got defensive, "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh I don't mean to start a fight. I just can't help but notice the way he looks at you," She lowered her voice and nodded toward John, "And the way you look at him,"
"Mrs. Hudson, I can assure you, nothing is going on between me and Sherlock,"
She almost said another drawn out 'well` but decided against it.
Sherlock flopped down on the couch and began to chew on his thumb nail. He reflected on the events that just took place. Was John really sleep deprived? He had most of the symptoms: irritability, bruising under the eyes, and lack of tolerance. . He didn't blame himself though, he warned John about his habits. Yes, this was all John's fault. Sherlock felt disturbed that this was bothering him so much. He was used to people yelling at him, he had that effect on people. For some reason, Sherlock cared about John a lot more than he did everyone else.
When it was nine o' clock Sherlock decided that John had enough time to cool down from their fight. He cautiously tip toed down the stairs, "John? Are you still upset with me?"
"Oh he went out dear. He said something about getting coffees for us," Mrs. Hudson said.
"Did he say when he will be back? I want to apologize to him,"
"He's just going around the corner, I'm sure he'll be right back. He left just a few moments ago; you just missed him. And as for the apologizing, I think that's a good idea," She advised.
"Come, come!" Mrs. Hudson said as she patted the seat next to her, "I'll fetch you the newspaper,"
"That sounds lovely Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said politely.
John strolled around, looking in shop windows as he made his way to the café. He had forgiven Sherlock; John couldn't expect him to change just because he wanted him to. He decided that he would by a coffee for Sherlock: black with two sugars.
The door jingled as he walked in. The smell of freshly roasted coffee beans comforted John. He noted that the furnishings were different from the last time he went. The old plain wooden chairs were replaced with sleek metal ones. Modern wood and metal tables complemented the new chairs. There were many college students on their laptops, probably working on term papers and taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi.
The barista was a pretty teenager with long blond hair. "Hello sir! What can I get for you today," She said very cheerfully.
"One caramel coffee, one black, and one with cream," John said.
"Ok," she said with a smile, "Your total is seven pounds,"
John gave her the money and left a tip in the jar. He turned to sit down at a table, but they were all full. A friendly looking teen sat in the corner, typing away at a computer. John tapped him on the shoulder giving the raven haired boy a start. John cleared his throat, "Could I sit here?" The boy's face light up and he flashed John a goofy ear to ear grin. "Sure! The more the merrier!" John felt kind of awkward sitting down with the boy smiling at him like that; it was a little creepy. John extended his hand, "Hi, my name is John Watson," The teen gleefully shook his hand, "No way! I was just reading your blog! Interesting stuff. Actually, could your friend," he looked at his computer, "Erm, your friend 'Sherlock Holmes' that's right is it? Could he help me find someone?"
"And who might that be?" John said , taking a sip of his coffee.
"Arthur Pendragon,"
John spit his coffee on the overly happy teen.
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