A/N: This is stupid little drabble for my story Handcuffed. You don't really need to read that to have fun with this little drabble though, it's just in the beginning of the story to know how Sherlock and John got together.
~SHERLOCK~
After two months of being 'official', as John had put it, Sherlock received a text from John that incredibly puzzled him.
I'll be back by 2 with milk 3
-John
Less than three? What did that mean? Sherlock flopped down onto the couch, and immediately went through his mind database.
Less than three. Less than three. Did John mean milk was less than three? But that didn't make any sense at all. Was John trying to send him a coded message through text? That was possible.
Sherlock leapt off the couch and grabbed pen and paper and began. He first went through all the codes John would know, military codes, and silly child codes. The only thing that appeared was the phrase 'The buttress bitter blue' which Sherlock did ponder over for a while, but finally dismissed as nonsense and moved on. He tried codes that were more advanced and came up empty. Frustrated, Sherlock threw down the pen and shoved the now stack of papers onto the floor. Nothing he had tried worked! It was possible that John was in deep trouble! What if he was really hurt and waiting for Sherlock to come rescue him?
Sherlock began pacing, worry clouding his thoughts. Maybe it wasn't code. GPS possibly? Sherlock dismissed that idea after only ten seconds of thinking on it.
Maybe he should call Mycroft. It was a desperate last resort but this was John they were talking about after all. Sherlock reached for his phone, ready to dial the number, when the door behind him opened and John bustled in with a bag of milk.
"Is it safe to put this in the fridge? You did throw out the human pancreas you had in there earlier, right?" John glanced at Sherlock, and stopped dead, "What's wrong Sherlock? You look even more pale than usual."
"John!" Sherlock lunged across the room, grasping John into a tight hug.
John staggered back, swearing when the bag of milk hit the floor. "Sherlock! I had to fight through a crowd of people to get that milk! If it's spilled!" He left the threat hanging. Sherlock still held him tighter. John rolled his eyes and reached out as well, collecting Sherlock into his arms. "What's wrong?"
"I got your message and I couldn't decode it. I was worried you were dying somewhere." Sherlock placed his head on John's neck, breathing in the faint smell of antiseptic and John's bath soap.
"My message? You mean the one where I told you I was going to be back at two with milk? What was so cryptic about it?" John asked.
"The less than three part." Sherlock muttered. John continued looking confused for the briefest of moments before throwing his head back and laughing.
Sherlock was upset at John for laughing at his worries until John actually explained to him what the symbols 3 meant together. Then Sherlock was just huffy and deigned John to a small make-out session to make him pay for worrying him so much.
The make-out session also proved a good distraction from the huge mess of papers now scattered about in their living room. Sherlock figured Mrs. Hudson could take care of them later.