Day 2 (Day 15): In a Different Clothing Style

The day after meeting Lestrade at the pub, John eagerly hops up the stairs to home after work. He's excited that they have a new case, if not just for the enjoyment of the case, but because Sherlock has been far too clingy the past few weeks, and this will surely take him off John's hip for at least a little while.

John reaches for the doorknob thinking about that last bit: Sherlock giving him space from now on (for a while). He frowns, suddenly overwhelmed with an emotion he can't quite pinpoint.

Sherlock's company has been...nice, to say the least, if not a bit annoying. Sherlock's been happy (maybe not happy) to watch movies, go to the pub, take walks, and do anything else John wants. It's been nice, and John's unsure of if he really wants that to disappear.

No matter, he thinks, in a couple of weeks it'll be back to that same routine.

John opens the door and steps through to their flat, and he's shocked by the sight greeting him. He's seen Sherlock sitting in his chair covered in blood (which was admittedly very scary), he's seen Sherlock sitting in his chair almost completely naked (which was admittedly less scary), but this is new.

There, sitting at his chair, is Sherlock Holmes clad in knee-length khaki shorts and a pale blue short sleeve t-shirt. Not just any old t-shirt, John knows every clothing item Sherlock owns costs no less than thirty pounds, but it's still a t-shirt. And shorts.

"Sherlock..." John says. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Sherlock looks down at himself. "It's nearing the end of June, it's summer. Isn't this what normal people wear?"

John still stares at him. "Okay, why are you trying to dress normal?"

Sherlock stands. "The case, John. I'm undercover."

"As a..." John takes in the outfit again, notices three buttons popped open at the top of the very soft looking t-shirt. He's seen young people wear this shirt. "As a uni student?"

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "As anybody unnoticeable. I've got to follow the murder, track his every move until I have all the data about him that I can."

"Then?"

"Then I'll be able to track abnormal movements. Say he goes to a tennis club every day? Or a gym? What if one day he skips it? Suspicious. What if he likes classical music and suddenly decides to go a rock concert? Suspicious."

"Alright, I see," John says, understanding. "But why do you have to change your clothes for that?"

"To look like everyone else. Surely he'd notice a suit wearing man following him around all day."

John nods. "Sure, sure."

Sherlock rotates his shoulders to pull the shirt lower on his neck. "I don't like this shirt, John."

With the slight adjustment, the shirt falls lower than his collarbone, revealing an amount of skin that John desires to bite.

John shakes his head, wondering where the hell that thought came from. He clears his throat and gathers his normal thoughts again.

"Looks fine," he says.

Sherlock just looks at him. "Uhm...thanks."

John nods. "Do you need me to go with you?"

Sherlock shakes his head. "No, I'll be fine," he says, heading for the door. "I'll be back late."

"Late dinner, then?"

Sherlock nods as he reaches for the doorknob. "Looking forward to it," he mutters, then exits the flat.

John just smiles at himself as he listens to Sherlock descending the stairs and exiting the flat.