Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Sherlock or John. They belong to the creators of Sherlock Holmes and all that stuff.
A/N- Hey guys, this is just a small drabble thing I wrote last night, so it may not be the best thing in my collection. More Sherlock drabbles are going to come, most of them containing Johnlock. Enjoy reading!
A long sigh echoed throughout the flat as Sherlock placed his feet on the opposite chair, watching as the strange woman stir a yellow goo in a pan. He was ticked that she had decided to stay the night and was kept up all night due to unpleasing noises from John's room. He was not in the best mood at the moment.
John flopped down on the couch, a small smile on his face. He had a mug in his hand and he took a sip from it every sixty-two seconds. But that was, of course, by Sherlock's eyes. He studied John, a gleam of jealousy in his eyes. When John had glanced over at him, he quickly turned his head to stare at the woman.
"How long will that woman be staying here?" Sherlock whispered to John, keeping his eyes on the woman.
"Her name is Jane," John replied a bit snottily, "and she is staying here however long she wants."
"I don't like her."
"You don't like anyone."
"But she's different."
"Why?"
"She's- never mind."
"You always keep to yourself and try to act cool with your cheekbones and everything. It's very annoying."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Just go watch tele or something."
Sherlock frowned as he sat at the table next to John. He slid his fingers over his fork, looking a bit nervous and angry. A plate of french toast and eggs was set in front of him and one in front of John, before Jane sat down with one in her hands.
"I made it myself, it's my own recipe. Dig in!" Jane said with a warm smile, taking a bite of her eggs.
Sherlock looked down at the food. I'm not hungry, he thought before looking over at John. He was eating it, so he might as well to. He slowly dipped the fork into the eggs and brought it to his mouth He swallowed.
"Pepper," he muttered.
"What?" John asked.
"Pepper," he repeated.
"What about pepper?" Jane asked.
"You need a pinch more of pepper in these eggs," Sherlock said with a slight smile, taking a bite of the french toast. "And a teaspoon of sugar."
"They're good, Sherlock. No need to criticize," John sighed.
"Well, excuse me! It took me years to perfect this recipe!" Jane yelled as Sherlock stood and slid the rest of the food in the trash.
"Perhaps if you try a few more years, it'll actually taste like something."
"Sherlock!" John exclaimed.
"Yes?"
"Don't criticize her!"
"Why not? You do it all the time. Two nights ago you said her cooking was terrible, her hair was always a mess, and she wore too much make-up," he smirked, pulling his coat on, "and if I recall, you said that she needed more pepper and sugar in her food."
"N-no..."
"I'm leaving," Jane stated, grabbing her things and storming out, slamming the door.
"Oh thank god, she was horrible," Sherlock said, sighing.
"You were jealous," John teased as he stood.
"No I wasn't."
"You made all that stuff up to get us to break up."
"Uh, no."
"Uh, yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"Fine. I was jealous."
"Good," John said as he pulled Sherlock's head down and kissed him.