This is a 221B birthday gift for the lovely Junejuly15 - I'm sorry it's late. I hope you had a good birthday. Enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys, I wish I did.
Sherlock stared at the fire, not knowing how to admit he had been wrong.
He thought back over the evening's crime scene. The short blond figure face down in the pub beer garden cut a lonely figure lying in a pool of his own blood, and Sherlock had approached with his usual flair….. only for his steps to slow as he drew closer.
The blond military cut, the dog tags, even the clothes…..
He stopped dead. John, walking a bit too close behind smacked into him before peering round to see what had disconcerted him.
And that's when he said it. Sherlock could have cut out his tongue if it would have stopped the hurtful words spilling from his lips.
"This has been set up to get my attention John," he said, including the whole of Lestrade's team in the conversation. "They've chosen someone of your height and build, blond haired…. They've even copied your atrocious dress sense."
Donovan and Anderson sniggered.
John stepped away, hurt and embarrassed, then turned without a word and left.
Sherlock had wrapped up the crime and hurried home. The flat was silent and now he stared into the fire.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind, and a warm body pressed against his.
"It's alright love, I forgive you. Come to bed."