Author's Note
This is just something I quickly wrote about a key I received recently from a special someone. ;)
John was lazily watching telly in his favourite arm chair in his and Sherlock's flat. John had just moved in earlier that week and was still trying to get settled. Sherlock had made an ill faded attempt to clean some of his clutter up to make room for John's possessions. Yet, no matter how much John pestered him, Sherlock just couldn't seem to square away his things. Some of Sherlock's things being various human parts, scraps of equipment, endless pages of notes, and the odd toothpick strewn about.
One day, when John had just come home from doing the shopping, Sherlock suddenly stood up and walked over to where John was sitting. "Here." John heard. Sherlock was holding his hand out to John.
"Yeah? What's this, then?" John asked. He held out his hand under Sherlock's, and something dropped from Sherlock's fist. It was a key. John turned it over and saw 221b engraved into the key head.
"I thought since you've lived here for more than two days you might do well with your own key." Sherlock quickly explained. He seemed almost nervous, like he was expecting John to be mad about something. Not getting a key before this, perhaps?
Instead, John said thank you and returned to his programme. Sherlock, after lingering over John for a few seconds, returned to his own project. Something having to do with fingernails...