A/N: Yesterday before going to bed my four-year old sister had told me her toy dinosaur snored. Then she came up with a wonderful little pun ALL on her own and I couldn't stop giggling. So here to immortalize that moment is a bit of Kidlock!

Long-ish chapter, hope you enjoy it! Tell me what you think? For some reason the 'review' feature isn't working at the moment but I get the email notifications so feel free!

A Study in Sleepovers

When he had moved here only a week before, John Watson hadn't expected to make many friends. He really hadn't expected to make any, at least for a while. Certainly none who lived in mansions like the ones he either read about or dreamed of…

Yesterday, when he had seen that curly-haired boy sitting alone in the sandbox, he was drawn to him. He looked harmless enough in his oversized black coat, though a bit strange… he seemed to be inspecting the sand…

No one else had approached John so with his blonde little head held high and with his confidence in a vice grip, he had carefully walked over… and been promptly told, "Go away." With a blush, he stood for a second then proceeded to sit down, drawing lines in the sand. There was no point in going away, he was already there… the boy in the sand opposite him finally looked up, those pale blue eyes inspecting quickly while John's dark blue ones just stared.

"I like dinosaurs too," the boy stated quickly after a moment.

John continued to stare for a few more seconds before his eyes widened, "How do you know I like dinosaurs?!"

The other boy looked at him with one dark eye-brow raised, in an expression John had seen before: It was the same one his mother did when she asked John how many cookies he ate and he asked her how she knew.

"You have a dinosaur patch on your jumper," the boy informed him.

His mother usually said it was the crumbs which rested on the corner of his mouth but John decided that this boy's explanation was just as good, though just as obvious. He tentatively shuffled closer to the boy, "that was really cool… how you did that."

The dark mop of curly hair rose up quickly, eyes searching yet again. "…you really think so?"

John beamed, "yeah, honestly, I wouldn't have guessed that ever!"

Light blue eyes rolled, "I didn't guess. I observed." With a huff, he continued to look at the sand before him.

John felt his smile waver slightly but he had gotten so far, no point in turning back now… "You said you like dinosaurs? Do you have any toys?"

"…I have a few… why?"

"Well, you could come over my house and we could play! We have them battle to see who wins, or we just walk around with them, or we jump from couch to couch cos' the floor is lava and lava kills dinosaurs or-"

"I have more furniture and more toys at my home, we should go there." The boy didn't look up.

"Oh… well how did you know that?"

With a small shake of his head the boy gave a sigh and grumbled, "You wouldn't want to hear it…"

John blinked a few times in confusion but was too excited about the prospect of having an actual friend to devote his attention to the other boy's inference. He simply stuck out his hand and declared with a smile which twinkled in his eyes, "My name is John Watson."

The other boy lifted his head slowly, first looking at the outstretched hand then moving his eyes upward to the smile dominating the short boys round face.

Taking the small tan hand in his own pale one, the curly-haired boy gave reserved smile.

"Sherlock Holmes."

OoOoO

The next day a sleek black car had picked the pair up.

John had been on the verge of bursting with nervous energy, exclaiming something about feeling like a secret agent in a spy movie. Sherlock had informed him the detectives in mystery movies were much more interesting.

As they drove up to the front garden of the Holmes' estate, the dark-haired boy had thought the blonde would literally implode in excitement. He bounded out of the car, taking Sherlock along with him by the hand. Upon entering the foyer, John had yelled out, "This is amazing!" While Sherlock allowed himself a delighted grin John giggled at his softly echoing voice. They passed by Mycroft, who looked at Sherlock with one eyebrow raised in a rather judgmental expression. Sherlock simply stuck out his tongue and continued along. His brother was obviously jealous he didn't have someone as interesting as John was turning out to be…

"Let's go to my room and we'll play dinosaurs," he said to his new friend.

And they had. They had warred with ancient reptiles, then took them on a walk around the entire east wing (pulling them with clothes-line wire leashes) and, while a few poor souls had died a fiery death on the cashmere carpet, most had even survived the lava.

That night, they had to be reminded by Mycroft (Sherlock said he was only ten years old as opposed to their four but John didn't believe him) that it was 2-a.m. This was indeed past their bedtime.

Changing into their pajama's Sherlock was impressed by John's green footies, which were adorned by blue stegosauri. John grinned happily as he poked the red tyrannosaurus-rex on Sherlock's night-shirt.

Sherlock's bed was insanely large, so they decided to share it. After a few minutes of jumping (the blonde child called it 'landing' after Sherlock pointed out to fly you had to stay afloat), they collapsed into quiet laughter which ended in yawns. Eventually their breathing slowed and eyelids became heavy. It only took 4 minutes and 26 seconds for John to fall asleep, by Sherlock's calculation, but it was requiring a lot more effort on his part.

John snored.

Incessantly.

Sherlock half suspected the peacefully sleeping boy beside him had something lodged up in his nasal passage and it was getting annoying.

It took Sherlock only three pokes to the tummy to wake his companion, and then John asked, "wha's the matter? Is it mornin' yet?" His speech was groggy and dripped with slumber, something Sherlock found amusing. Still, there was a problem to be solved.

"John, you snore."

The accused stared with half-closed eyes for a few seconds then burst into a bubbling eruption of giggles. Sherlock's eyebrows drew together and he asked John confusedly, "why're you laughing?"

"I… I'm a…" he took a deep breath and tried again, "I'm a… a dinoSNORE." With that the flood-gates failed once again and let out a torrent of giggles.

Giving a laugh before he could stop himself, Sherlock then smiled and watched the blissful scene of idiotic joy in front of him.

In that moment, Sherlock had decided he had solved the snoring problem: they just wouldn't go to sleep.