Sherlock has the "habit" of leaving he doors to 221B and to their flat unlocked. Sometimes wide open. Is he trustworthy that they won't get burgled? No. Is he too lazy to carry keys? Yes. Are his pants too tight to put the keys anywhere? Yes.
As I said before, Sherlock's broken into the flat before. Since Chapter 3, Sherlock's broken into the flat seventeen and a half times (the half came when he was almost through the window when Mrs. Hudson didn't recognize him, got scared, and hit him over the head with a large pan).
John gets very annoyed at this.
Particularly today.
When, just last week, Mrs. Hudson asked Sherlock to lock up all the windows because of burglaries occurring on Baker Street.
And today, Sherlock has no way of getting into the flat and John is at work.
"No, I'm not going home to let you in."
"I have to go to the restroom, John."
"Go to Angelo's."
"But I'm not going to eat anything."
"What the heck does that matter? We're not paying customers when we are customers!"
"But…they…I…."
"What is it, Sherlock?"
"Nothing."
Silence.
"Oh…" John murmurs.
"What? What is it? Did you just deduce me?"
"How do you make that sound sexual?"
"I-I-I…"
"Stop stuttering, a lot of people can't use public restrooms."
"I," Sherlock clears his throat, "Really?"
"Yeah, it's pretty normal for you, considering you taste things at crime scenes."
"Oh. It's just that I don't think public restrooms are very sanitary."
"Neither is licking things at crime scenes."
"I see your point."
"Just come get my key."
"All the way at the hospital?"
"Yes, Sherlock. It's not to Narnia, it's twenty minutes away."
"I don't know if I can hold it."
"Either go to Angelo's, or get a cab."
Silence.
"Fine."
*Click*
John wasn't sure of whether or not Sherlock was going to go to Angelo's until Sherlock barged into Doctor Watson's exam room. The receptionist, Peggy, was right behind him.
"Doctor Watson, Mr. Holmes is here!"
"Sherlock, what in God's name are you doing here?"
Sherlock said nothing. He dipped his long fingers into John's pocket, fished out the keys, swiftly kissed John's lips, and left. John's face was bright red, the 15-year-old boy he was examining was chuckling, and Peggy was flat angry. Peggy huffed and left the room after Sherlock, and the boy was still laughing at John.
"He's hot," the boy said to John.
John half chuckled and covered his face, "Heh, thank you."
Later, John and Sherlock were discussing some sort of negotiation to where Sherlock would carry keys.
"They're annoying."
"Wear more loose pants."
Sherlock glared at John.
"No, never mind."
"Just be home for me all the time."
"What? That's absurd."
"Then leave a door unlocked when you leave."
"No way!"
"Then let me unlock a window."
"Which one?"
"You pick."
John got a sly grin. "Bathroom."
"No, too small."
"I don't think so."
"What, do you want me to prove it?"
"Yup."
Ten minutes later, Sherlock was stuck in the bathroom window wearing nothing but jeans. As in, no underwear, either.
"What's stuck?"
"Belt loop."
"Can you-" John cut himself off.
"What?"
"Just…take your pants off."
"No."
"Then I might have to cut your pants."
"Can't you just knock the wall down?"
John gave Sherlock the annoyed look.
"Fine, just, help me."
John took hold of Sherlock's torso as Sherlock shimmied out of his black jeans. As he was kicking them off, the left pant leg ripped. Sherlock yelled out in anger and frustration, John tried to tell him it was just a pair of jeans.
"These are my favorite ones!"
"You know how this could have been avoided?"
Sherlock got to his feet, completely naked, and angry. He scowled at John then left the bathroom.
"Fine!" he called to John as he was about to slam their bedroom door, "I'll carry my keys!"
John smiled to himself. Mission accomplished.
