A Piece of You
John paced back and forth around the flat. The temperature must have dropped ten degrees since the sun went down. He looked at the elaborate cuckoo clock on the mantel and sighed before resuming his pacing.
"John, you're putting me off. Your fidgeting is distracting, and you're wearing down the floor boards by three millimeters with every hundred paces."
"Aren't you cold?" he asked, ignoring Sherlock's aggravation at his behaviour.
Sherlock seemed to think it over for a moment before deciding. "My temperature is moderate."
"But Sherlock, it's musty in here. The air is a bit dank isn't it? And that old sweater you're wearing is so shabby. We should get you a new one."
Sherlock stopped his pondering and looked over at John, his eyes taking in every detail of John's appearance while his brain calculated for a more adequate reason why John was being so persistent. Then something that John had said struck him.
"This is your sweater, John."
John could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. "Yes, but, well, I thought you may want to go and buy one. So that you'll have a proper sweater for when it gets cold like this."
Sherlock puzzled for a moment, his eyes squinting quizzically as he thought about the logical solution.
"But, I like wearing your sweater."
John's lips quirked up in a small smile. "Oh. Well." he cleared his throat a bit, "Tea?"
"Yes. Thank you."
Sherlock went back to his pondering as John went off to make tea.
()()()()
AN:
Okay so I know this is short and kind of lame, but to be honest I'm scared to write Sherlock because he's so smart – I know that I would not do him justice in a full length piece lol and my dearest and I were discussing fluff and this was just a drabble I came up with. So yea.