A/N: Wow, thank you all so much for your follows and favorites! And thank you to my two reviewers, I'm very glad you like it so far! Now, I'd like to let you all know that my next update probably won't be until the 26th (in America) as Christmas is tomorrow. To all my lovely future friends, have a WONDERFUL holiday no matter what you celebrate. And remember, reviews are great late Christmas gifts!
It took everything John had not to kill the great git right there.
After Sherlock had hailed a cab (why was it always him, John was more than capable of hailing one himself) and the duo got in, Sherlock immediately tipped his head to press against the cool glass of the window. John, who was currently trying to close the sticky cab door, just stared at the detective in disbelief.
"Is there some sort of problem?" Sherlock sounded horrendously put out. John ground his teeth together and squeezed his hands into fists a few times before letting them relax. "Yes, actually," John's voice was a mixture of exasperation and bewilderment. "Sherlock, do you know how contagious pinkeye is?"
A huff of annoyance came in response. "Of course I do. I never delete information about medical abnormalities." John sighed loudly. "Then why on EARTH is your bloody head against the window?"
"Feels nice, cool." Sherlock was evidently unperturbed. Very slowly, John turned to glare at this...great git who was somehow his flatmate. "Then you realize you've infected virtually this. Entire. Cab?"
"Obviously," snorted the taller man. "Why should it matter to me?"
The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose and blew air hard out his nose. "Never mind, Sherlock," he mumbled.
John dared to risk a glance at the detective, whose eyes were narrowed. Oh God now he's going to deduce it. John leaned back and shut his eyes.
"Oh." Sherlock breathed, eyes widening in realization. He took his head away from the window so quickly he was surprised he didn't give himself whiplash. "Figured it out then?" Sherlock nodded rapidly. He moved to rub his eyes (God they were itchy) but John grabbed his wrist. "Do. Not. Touch them." His voice came out as a growl.
"Right," the detective muttered. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Being a doctor you obviously care about the health of the general population, so when I infected the cab it irritated you because you know I've likely guaranteed the next few customers getting pinkeye before the cab is cleaned."
John blinked rapidly. "Brilliant," he said with a half smile.
Sherlock nodded, evidently pleased with himself.
Suddenly the cab came to a stop. "We're not at the surgery yet," the detective snapped at the cabbie. "No, we're not," the man said sarcastically. "But you've got a contagious disease that I'd love to avoid giving my passengers." He growled. "Get. OUT!"
The men in the back flinched at the outburst, but meekly, John opened his door. Sherlock did too, but glared daggers in the cabbie's direction. It wasn't very intimidating since he had to keep blinking and both eyes watered horribly.
"Oy!" The cabbie somehow managed to look even more put out. "You owe me!"
Sherlock smirked. "I don't believe we do."
And with that, he slammed the door.
A/N: Chapter two! Again, I appreciate your reviews immensely, they make my day, so please leave one or feel free to follow or favorite my story!