Just a short drabble. Read, enjoy and review!

(I don't own anything!)


John was dead on his feet. The case was finally closed (the husband killed his wife's lover, 'obviously' Sherlock had remarked, but he couldn't have come to that conclusion 46 hours ago?!) and John could finally get some rest.

He considered dropping on his bed without even taking his shoes off – he knew he could sleep right away – but after being awake for this long he decided he could take two minutes to undress.

Just when the doctor lay down on his sheets wearing only his pajama bottoms his phone buzzed.

'Oh no!' He moaned to himself. He knew who this was….

Come down now. I need your assistance. – SH

John texted back: No way in hell Sherlock. I am not leaving my bed.

He fully expected a text back from his annoying flat mate, but instead his phone stayed quiet. Good. John closed his eyes to sleep, but then:

'John?'

Damn it! The doctor thought. I'll just keep my eyes closed!

'I know you're awake.'

John opened his eyes. 'Go away, Sherlock!' He grunted. 'I am too tired to assist you with anything right now!'

'But this will be very easy, I promise!'

'I don't care! I told you: I am not leaving my bed.' John closed his eyes again.

'You don't have to leave your bed for this!'

John opened one eye. 'Dare I ask what this experiment is about?'

'It's very simple!' Sherlock began enthusiastically while laying a notebook and some other things on the bed. 'I have been thinking about how the murderer got into the victims' house.'

'You already established that; he climbed through the toilet window!'

'Yes I know that John, but it is remarkable that he fitted through that small window! I want to know his exact movements to establish how he managed to do that!' Sherlock fussed.

'And what do you need me for?'

'Well, you have almost the same height and weight as our murderer.'

'If you think you can force me to try to climb through our toilet window…' John started.

'Don't be ridiculous, John!' Sherlock frowned at him. 'Didn't I tell you you can stay in bed?'

'Then whaa…' John yawned. 'what do you need from me exactly?'

Sherlock held up a measuring tape. 'Your exact measurements!'

John stared at him. 'So let me get this straight…. You are going to measure me, only measure me, and then calculate how exactly a man of my height and weight fits through a toilet window…?'

'Yes, obviously.'

'And you're sure you do not have better things to do with your time? Sleeping perhaps?'

The detective ignored the sarcasm. 'Sleeping is overrated. Can I measure you or not?'

John sighed. 'Fine. Whatever.'

Sherlock enthusiastically pulled out the measuring tape while John lay down. Sherlock started with the length of his legs, then his arms, then the length between his hip and his shoulder, then between his fingers.

'What do you need that for?' John asked.

'Hmm? Oh just some gathering of general information I might use later. I can apply the knowledge I gain here to solve some other mysteries regarding this case.'

John closed his eyes. This is okay, he thought. I wish all his experiments were like this.

John felt his body relax while one of Sherlock's remarkably warm hands rested on his chest to measure his collar bone. Then the hand moved to his abdomen while Sherlock measured his rib cage. John almost fell asleep when suddenly, without warning, Sherlock's hand slid down from his stomach, under the band of his pajama bottoms between his legs.

'Jesus Sherlock!' John yelled in a high pitched voice, leaping away from the detective.

'What?' Sherlock looked at him innocently.

'What the bloody hell do you think you're you doing?' John yelled again.

'I told you: taking your measurements.'

'There?!' John shouted, gesturing at his crotch.

'Why not?' Sherlock asked. He seemed seriously confused about John's reaction.

'Bloody hell, Sherlock, have you no sense of normality at all?'

'Why are you getting so upset? I have seen you naked before.'

'Well seeing is different than putting your bloody hand between my legs without announcing or – God forbid- asking me!' John shrieked.

'I already asked you!' Sherlock became annoyed.

'No, you asked if you could take measurements for the case! No way you can convince me that the length of his guy's penis had anything to do with how he managed to get through the toilet window!'

'Don't be dense John, of course it has nothing to do with that.'

'Than why the hell were you putting your hand there?' John's voice was still higher than usual.

Sherlock started rolling up the measuring tape. 'Mrs Jenning said that the reason she started cheating on her husband is because he was unable to satisfy her sexually. She claimed her lover's ability to please her was mainly because of the size of his-'

'Than take his bloody measurement!' John bellowed.

Sherlock glared at him. 'Measuring a dead man's penis? That is macabre John, even for me!'

John sighed and rubbed his eyes. He sunk down on the bed, his back to Sherlock.

'Anyway,' Sherlock continued, 'since you seem to always have a girlfriend I thought I check if there is any true to her theory.'

'That is the most ridiculous thing I ever heard.' John murmured.

'I agree.' Sherlock said absentmindedly while putting the measuring tape in a box. 'Based on what I felt there is no way length has anything to do with it.'

John felt his face burn. He quickly turned to Sherlock. 'I was asleep!'

'Aha!' Sherlock gave him an excited look. 'So in an aroused state it is bigger?' He leaped toward John. 'That can be arranged if I just stimulate your-'

But John jolted away. 'Oh no! No, you don't get to stimulate my anything Sherlock!'

'Why not?' Sherlock pouted.

'Because I don't want you touching me!'

'You had no problem with me touching you before!'

'But I have a problem with you touching me there!'

'But it's for...'

'I don't care if it is for science!'

'But…'

'No more buts! Shut up and let me sleep!' John snapped while laying back down at the bed.

Sherlock stared at John without moving for a few seconds, and then he lay down on the bed next to his friend.

'Don't you have a toilet window to measure?' John grunted without opening his eyes.

'It can wait.' The detective said. 'I think I'll sleep a bit first.'

'Good idea.' John took a deep breath and tried to relax.

It was silent for a while and then Sherlock asked: 'So how many inches….'

'Shut up Sherlock!'


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