A/N: Firstly, thanks to everyone who has read and kindly reviewed so far! Also a shout out to HowlynMad for the idea for this chapter. I've tried to keep in character but I had a few problems…
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and the BBC adaptation belongs to Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss.
On with the second chapter!
John had tried to make it easy for Sherlock. He picked a Tuesday to go shopping, hoping that would mean it was less busy. Not that persuading Sherlock to come with him had been a breeze; there were many sulks and claims of "boring". But as John kept reminding him, there were no new cases, and Sherlock had been bored the last time John did the shopping alone. So there they were, wheeling a trolley around a supermarket. This was a first for Sherlock, who was looking around with a mixture of boredom and bemusement on his face.
"I still don't see what the problem is with ordering everything online," he said, breaking the amicable silence that had fallen between them.
"You need to get out of the house," insisted John firmly, who then got a glimpse of the Sherlock's expression, "Don't tell me you've never been to a supermarket before!" John could not keep the incredulity out of his voice.
"I have been in a few times; can't avoid them, much as I try. Otherwise, online shopping," said Sherlock quietly, "when I must eat" he added in an irritated undertone.
They came to a halt relatively near the entrance by the newspapers and magazines, as John searched his pockets for something.
"Looking for your list?" asked Sherlock idly, not really caring about the answer.
"How did you know that I –"
"You're a military man, John, neat, organised, of course you make a shopping list," reeled off Sherlock, "and just because I don't accompany you on your little shopping excursions, I still observe you getting ready."
John sighed and finally located his list. "Ok, Sherlock, remember what we agreed. No deducing people, and check with me before putting anything, and I mean anything, into the trolley." Sherlock merely rolled his eyes in response, which John took to be an agreement and moved off in the direction of breakfast cereals.
Sherlock lingered by the newspapers and picked up The Telegraph. "Boring," he said, dropping it haphazardly onto the pile after glancing at the front page. Five other newspapers suffered the same treatment. "Does this even count as news?" he asked out loud after seeing a front page devoted to a reality show, earning some strange looks from passers-by. Finally, a glossy magazine caught his attention and his eyes narrowed in fury. "John!" he said, grabbing it off the shelf and running towards his flatmate, "John. It's me in that hat again! On the front cover of Heat. Why is it always the hat picture?"
John started to laugh but noticed the serious look on Sherlock's face. "People like the hat," he said simply, smirking, "now go and put it back and help me over here." Sherlock trudged off and did what he was told in a way that reminded John of a sulky child, not the first time the comparison had come to mind.
Sherlock returned to John's side at the cereal aisle, where he stood dumbfounded at the vast selection on offer. How anyone was supposed to decide which sort to get, he had no idea. He saw John reach out and put a box casually into the trolley before walking away. At least John knew what he was doing here. Sherlock was filled with a need to regain some kind of control; this was a completely alien environment to him.
To John's surprise, Sherlock had been fairly quiet during the trip. He was starting to think that maybe this wasn't such a disastrous idea after all. Shortly after this idealistic thought he received a series of small pokes in the arm. "John. This is boring," Sherlock moaned. A brief silence followed. "John, I'm getting some sweets."
At this statement John looked to where the detective was pointing. Sherlock had spotted a pick 'n' mix. A few children were happily collecting their assortment of sweets. Judging by the look on his face, Sherlock had never had a pick 'n' mix in his life. John once again felt like a parent looking after a very demanding child.
"Sherlock, no. No. You can't. Pick 'n' mix is for children, it's…" John searched for an appropriate word to appease Sherlock, "boring. Pick 'n' mix is boring. Now come on, we have to get milk." John turned away and Sherlock followed with an air of gloomy rebellion, scuffing his shoes slightly as he walked. "We are here for a reason, remember?" reminded John to Sherlock.
"What's that then?" replied Sherlock in a monotonous voice which reflected his state of mind.
"Food? You know, to eat?"
"Ugh, eating; eating's boring. I think better when I don't eat," commented Sherlock, now examining his fingernails in disinterest.
"Well, I'm sure you think better when you're alive," said John with a twinge of annoyance in his voice.
Eventually they were nearing the end of the shopping list and heading towards the checkouts, when something caught Sherlock's eye. "John. I'm getting cigarettes." It wasn't a question; John reached out a hand to restrain his friend.
"No, please Sherlock, you've been doing so well…" he pleaded.
"But John," whined Sherlock in response, "we must have been in here for hours now. You've been saying no to me all day. I'm a grown man and if I want cigarettes, I'll get them! Unless you've changed your mind about the sweets, that is…"
John groaned. "Go and get some pick 'n' mix then," he relented, hoping this was enough to satisfy Sherlock, who smirked and hurried off to the sweet aisle. Apparently his pick 'n' mix deprived childhood was enough to quash his cigarette craving, this time at least. Sherlock came back looking pleased with himself a few minutes later and the two joined the queue for the self-service checkouts.
"I hate these things," muttered John to himself, remembering a certain incident where he had had to forego the shopping in order to leave with some of his dignity intact.
"It'll be fine, John," said Sherlock casually, "at least this way we avoid all human contact!" A small degree of glee edged into his voice at that thought.
"Sherlock…" sighed John exasperatedly, but smiled as he scanned the first item.
Everything at the checkout was going smoothly, until:
"Unexpected item in bagging area. Please remove item or wait for assistance," came a tinny electronic voice.
"No there's not!" John half-shouted, going red in the face, "look: bread, milk, cheese -" he lifted and replaced each respective item as he stated it. Sherlock watched on with an amused smile.
"Unexpected item in bagging area," maintained the machine coolly. Seeing that John was on the verge of erupting, Sherlock decided that this was the right time to intervene.
"Move over, John, let me do it," he said lazily, and proceeded to scan the rest of the items successfully. John's face went back through various shades of red until he reached his normal complexion.
Once they were on the way back to Baker Street, carrying their shopping (well, John was struggling while Sherlock grasped a light bag containing just kitchen rolls), Sherlock turned to John.
"It's quite easy, this shopping lark, isn't it? Don't know what you make such a fuss about," he commented, while examining a candy pig from his pick 'n' mix bag.
"Never again," said John, trying to balance the weight between his arms, "I'm never taking you shopping again. Next time we'll shop online."
Sherlock didn't look unduly bothered.
A/N: So there we are; hope that wasn't too bad! Please review – I appreciate each one I receive. I am accepting suggestions and prompts for future chapters; they don't have to follow on! Thanks again for reading. :-)
