Sherlock awoke from the sound of loud knocking. He groaned at the pain in his head. Why did he have to get drunk? Stupid experiment…

He pulled on his robe and thumped down the stairs clumsily, wrenching the door open when he got to bottom.

"Hello," Sarah said nervously.

"You! What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked in a lazy drawl.

"I came to see if John was alright."

"Of course he's alright. Why wouldn't he be? Hasn't he contacted you for five minutes?"

Sarah rolled her eyes and pushed past the tall man.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Sherlock called.

"Trust me, I don't want me to be here either." Sarah said as she climbed the staircase.

"What's going on?" Sherlock heard John call from his bedroom.

"Intruder! There's an intruder in the house! Get your gun, John!" Sherlock shouted, and received a glare from Sarah. He grinned back at her slyly.

John pushed through the door, his gun in his hand, and he pointed it at the first person he saw.

"What the HELL, John?!" Sarah shrieked.

John lowered the weapon immediately. "Sarah, what are you doing here?"

"That's what I asked." Sherlock stepped forward.

"Shut up." Sarah spat at him.

"Hey! Don't be rude to Sherlock!" John frowned.

"What? What is wrong with you? He told you to point a gun at me!"

"That's his idea of a joke, Sarah!"

"Well it's not funny!"

"You're right," John looked at Sherlock, and a smirked escaped his lips.

"Are you bloody serious? You're taking his side with this?"

"There are no sides here!"

"What's all this noise about?" Mrs Hudson entered the passage, tying the front of her robe.

"Nothing Mrs Hudson, everything is fine." Sherlock assured her.

"It doesn't sound like it. Why is everyone shouting?"

"He told John to point a gun at me!" Sarah pointed a bony finger at Sherlock.

"He's the one who pointed it at you!" Sherlock argued.

"Sherlock, you're not helping." John sighed.

"I'm not trying to help; I'm trying to get her out of our house!"

"Fine, I'm leaving." Sarah thumped down the stairs. "Happy?" she called back at Sherlock, who smiled sweetly in return.

The door slammed, and both John and Mrs Hudson's heads turned straight in Sherlock's direction.

"What?"

"That wasn't very good was it?" Mrs Hudson said softly, and she turned and left.

Sherlock turned to John, who shook his head and disappeared back in his room.

Well that was a disappointment. Sherlock rather enjoyed the little gun joke. Oh well…

Sherlock made coffee. He was going to apologise to John. That's what friends do, isn't it?

He knocked on John's door and he heard a mumble of reply, so he pushed open the door to find John propped up on his bed, reading a book.

"John, I am sorry." Sherlock said, placing the mug down on John's bedside table.

John looked up at Sherlock, and raised an eyebrow. "For…"

"I am sorry for… being… quite ridiculous."

John continued to stare at Sherlock. To avoid his gaze, Sherlock picked up the mug. "Here, a nice, hot cup of coffee." He took the book out of John's hands and pressed the mug into them.

John took a sip. "It's cold."

"A nice cup of coffee." Sherlock corrected.

"It's disgusting." John crinkled his nose after his next sip.

"A cup of coffee." Sherlock corrected again.

"I'm not even sure this is coffee." John put the mug down.

"Cup." Sherlock said finally.

Sherlock and John's eyes met for a few moments, before they burst out laughing. John was shaking with giggles, and Sherlock placed his hands on his knees to steady himself from falling over.

"You know, it actually was quite funny today." John giggled.

"I know. Too bad you didn't seem to think so at the time." Sherlock grinned.

"Yeah sorry, but I needed to seem decent, unlike you." John grinned wickedly.

"Well, she wasn't decent to me!" Sherlock defended.

John's face dropped as if he had a sudden thought.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, concerned.

"It's just… nothing." John said, realising who he was talking to me.

"Is it about Sarah?" Sherlock asked, but he already knew the answer.

John nodded reluctantly. "I don't think she's… right for me."

"She's not." Sherlock blurted.

John glared at him.

"I mean, well… you're a really kind person, and she seems a bit controlling. You can't let people control you, John. It will make you unhappy." Sherlock said, sitting on the bed next to John.

John stared at Sherlock in disbelief.

"What?"

"I just can't believe what's coming out of your mouth. Are you trying o be my psychiatrist?"

"Oh God, no. Psychiatrists wouldn't care about you."

"So… you care about me?"

"Of course."

"Well, if you care, you will definitely learn how to make better coffee. No offence, but I don't know what the hell I just drank."

"Yes, I will work on that."