October 11th
John shivered.
Sherlock sighed. "Must you?"
John shot him a half-hearted glare. "Must I what? It's cold out here."
"No colder than the last crime scene and you didn't shiver there. Taking into consideration of the time of year and where we are, you probably aren't shivering because of the sub-par temperatures," Sherlock said.
John huffed. "I'm fine."
"I didn't ask if you were fine."
"What do you want from me, Sherlock?"
Oh, so John was in a mood. Sherlock mentally backtracked, trying to think of anything that he might have done to annoy John more than usual. He came up with nothing and realised that maybe it was just the atmosphere.
"You're scared," Sherlock said bluntly.
John's defences immediately went up. "I am not!"
"Halloween at a graveyard... gloomy weather... it's almost nightfall..." Sherlock trailed off. "Knowing you, your mind has immediately jumped to the idea of ghosts and goblins, maybe that something is about to jump out at you..."
Twigs cracked somewhere nearby. Before Sherlock could think of their potential suspect, John had grabbed a hold of his arm.
The twigs crackling turned out to be a squirrel, although Sherlock figured that out far before John. Slowly, he looked away from the tree and at John, and then very deliberately at John's hand clutching his arm.
John stepped away so fast that he almost tripped over a tombstone.
Sherlock smiled triumphantly.
"Oh, shut up!" John exclaimed, his face turning red.
"Army doctor..." Sherlock muttered under his breath.
John shoved his hands in his pockets and strode ahead.
Sherlock laughed to himself, following his flatmate.
Thanks to DreamsofPari for the idea of graveyards. :)