"John?"

John pried his eyes open, unstuck his face from the window, and looked blearily towards Sherlock. "Hmm?"

"Switch off?"

John sat up a little straighter. "Oh, yeah, sure."

He hadn't expected to drive, honestly. Whenever they went somewhere that involved needed to drive on their own, Sherlock always drove because he needed some kind of mental stimulation, even if it was only driving. But, it was late and if Sherlock was asking, John wasn't not going to drive. Sherlock hardly ever asked for anything, much less asking if John would drive because he was getting tired.

He stretched, sighing. "Gotta stop off first, though."

Sherlock glanced at him. "No petrol stations."

John shrugged.

Sherlock just turned his gaze back to the road without a comment.

They pulled off to the shoulder a few seconds later. John got out of the car and stretched, muttering in annoyance about crime scenes in the middle of nowhere and the cramped car they were in. He trekked off to find a suitable bush to take care of business and, in the minute that passed by the time he headed back to the car, Sherlock was already tucked into the back seat of the car.

"Why are you back there?" he asked, ducking into the driver's side.

Sherlock shrugged. "More comfortable."

John just shook his head and closed the door, starting the car.

There was a distinct lack of communication for the next five minutes, which was strange, because Sherlock had been chatting ever since they'd gotten in the car. When they hit the next deserted country road stop sign, he twisted around in the seat to ask Sherlock what he was doing when-

He saw Sherlock sprawled out across the backseat. He was curled up, as he had to be to fit, his shoes kicked off and his feet pressed against the door. His head was tucked in the spot where the seat just about met the door, his arm tucked under his curls for a makeshift pillow. His other hand was draped to the floor mats, but he was clearly already asleep.

". . . Really?" John said aloud.

There was no response - he hadn't expected one - but the disbelief didn't disband. He understood that Sherlock had clearly asked him to drive because he hadn't wanted to any longer, but being able to fall asleep that quickly meant that he'd been about to fall asleep at the wheel - which certainly explained why he had asked John to drive! - but really?

John sighed and shook his head, turning back to the road. He had half a mind to either gun it or stop the car abruptly so that Sherlock would go rolling off onto the floor, because he certainly wasn't wearing a seatbelt lying like that, but he pushed the childish notion away.

At least he had asked John to drive.

The image of a completely tuckered out Sherlock curled up in the backseat of your car - isn't that adorable?

Seriously though. Don't drive if you're tired. This is fiction.

Short drabble is short, but you know. It's falling asleep in a car. xD