Piggy back

A/n:whooo! Chapter 10 guys! I just want to say another huge thank you to all of you for reviewing my last chapter and the others too! honestly, they make my entire day! I hope you are all enjoying it.
This one was, funnily enough, suggested by guest: piggybackridez who asked for Sherlock giving John a piggy back, and also by lilyxsnapex4eva, who asked for a sugar rush. I thought they tied in pretty well. I just hope I did a good job! X

Sherlock had done an experiment. Something to do with the solubility of reducing sugars (or so he told me).
The experiment started ok. The sugars were put in test tubes and he added a light blue solution, known as Benedict's test to check if they were reducing sugars, for apparently, some weren't.
But then Sherlock decided to test the sweetness with a fresh batch of sugar. It was glucose syrup. Some sugars aren't very sweet, apparently, depending on their structure, he had told me, before rambling on about monosaccharides and polysaccharides.

He decided to try some.

He had a massive sugar rush.

And he was now completely and ridiculously hyper.
All morning he had me running around after him, clearing up the mess he was making as he vented off his vast amounts of energy and trying desperately to get him to calm down. And failing.
At 12.00, I was absolutely worn out, at the end of my tether and just wishing that Sherlock would calm down.
I slouched, exhausted into my chair for the first time since he had taken the sugar. I ached. I guess I was getting just a teensy bit old.
"John! John! John! Come over here John! John! John!" Sherlock's excited voice made me groan in exasperation.
"Jesus Christ Sherlock," I grumbled completely worn down by this new, frazzled addition to Sherlock's personality, "What do you want now?"
He bounded over to me, eyes sparkling madly, curls sticking out in all directions. He looked deranged almost.
"You're so small!" he told me suddenly with a manic giggle. I gaped at him, not really comprehending what he said. The giggle was new too. I hoped it didn't stick. It made him sound delirious.
"Sorry?" I stuttered.
"You're like one of those small things in that film series you like- the one about rings,"
Affronted, I glared at him, realising what he meant, "A hobbit?"
"Yes, you're like a hobbit!" he grinned at me and I just didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I wasn't that small. Seriously.
"I'm not... I'm not that... I'm sitting down that's why," I said belligerently, sticking my chin out in defiance, "and I think that's enough sugar for you," I added, pinching the bridge of my nose.
"John the hobbit," Sherlock giggled, looking down at me far too condescendingly for my liking, "I could pick you up without much effort!" he gasped, the thought lighting up his wild eyes, "Can I pick you up John? Please, please, pleeeaaasssee?"
I stared at him. He'd gone mad. My flat mate had officially gone mad. What was I going to do? He was calling me a hobbit. He wanted to pick me up. Jesus.
"No,"
He visibly deflated, like a balloon loosing air. He pouted.
"Why not?"
"I don't like being picked up, and especially not by you,"
He launched towards me and I yelped in surprise, jumping to my feet, and skirting around him fearfully.
He started advancing on me.
"No Sherlock! I said- I said no!" I started to panic. He was giggling at me now, dear lord, it was like secondary school all over again. There was no way in hell I was getting picked up. I scrambled onto the sofa standing up so that I was taller than him. I made a mental note: Sherlock and sugar should never, ever be mixed.
Ever.
He looked up at me for a long time.
And then.
Suddenly I found myself on his back, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as he jerked forward, away from the safety of the sofa. I wasn't even sure how I had got on his back.
"What the- Sherlock!" I yelled, feeling incredibly belittled, "Sherlock put me down. Now! This is not funny Sherlock, I'm serious!" I glanced down- it seemed like such a long way. Oh Jesus no. I scrambled for a stronger hold on his thin shoulders as he carried me across the room, and started shouting abuse in his ear. I couldn't deal with this.
"Put me down!" I yelled again. How could he seriously be giving me a piggy back? This was not natural. I couldn't deal with getting a piggy back from my mad, hyper, possibly dangerous flat mate.
He hitched me up a little, and held onto my legs, ensuring that there was no way for me to get down unless he let me go. I didn't like this. He was using my...smallness...against me. It wasn't fair.
"Put me down Sherlock, you've made your point, just out me down!"
Sherlock decided now was the perfect moment to spin on the spot. I yelped. Jesus if he let go, and I went crashing, I would kill him. I buried my head into the crook of his neck and closed my eyes tightly. I felt dizzy.
"Sherlock put me down. you bloody maniac," I cried, voice coming far more muffled than I had planned.
"But this is fun!" He said lightly, paying no heed to my distress, "enjoy it John! It's funny!"
"This is not funny!" I almost laughed. Sherlock sounded like a kid.
He ignored me, and carried me across to the kitchen and back.
"You're mad," I whispered, a little frightened, "you're absolutely insane,"
"Oh you're just in a mood because I called you small," he scoffed.
"Yes, Sherlock. I am. In case you didn't notice, I don't. Like. Being. Called. Small," I said, through clenched teeth, "at all,"
"John the hobbit," I could basically hear him smirking.
"Sherlock, if you don't put me down, I swear to god..."
Suddenly, he gasped, cutting me off, "My experiment!"
And that was it. A few seconds later and I was sprawled on my back, non too gracefully on the floor. Sherlock had turned his full attention to his test tubes, which had all turned a brick red colour.
"So they're all reducing sugars..." He muttered, scrawling down a few notes.
I sat up, seething.
"You... You... You..." I stammered.
And that was all I managed for the next half hour, too outraged to get my mouth working properly. Sherlock, content with the outcome if his experiment, and finally running low on sugar, sat down and smirked at me all night.
"Giving you a piggy back was fun," he told me after a while, in which I glared daggers at him, "can I do it again?"
"Don't you even dare," I snarled.
He laughed.
Why did I have to be small. Why? Why?

A/n: a review or two would be nice. I'm not too sure about this one to be honest. Xxx