Small amount of slashy-goodness in this chapter!

AND. SKULDUGGERY FANS OUT THERE-I'm going to the Bluewater signing that Derek Landy's doing on the 9th! Keep your eyes peeled for a short 15 year old girl with brown curly hair, most likely wearing a black trilby and a Sherlock t-shirt and dark jeans (the t-shirt will probably be a dark blue one with Sherlock playing with a rubix cube). If you see me there, please bound up to me! I have no idea what time I'll be going (probably as soon as it starts, which is at 12:00).

Oh, and peoples, I have a tumblr if you didn't know- tomatoesonstrings-dot-tumblr-dot-com

Have fun with that!

Sherlock woke when John kicked him in the head in his sleep. He narrowed his eyes at his colleagues feet and shuffled away from them slightly. Maybe sharing a bed wasn't such a good idea after all. John sighed heavily in his sleep, turning over so once again his feet were right in front of Sherlocks nose. The taller man rolled his eyes at them, nudging them gently. John mumbled something incoherent, stirring. When his feet didn't move, Sherlock pushed Johns legs completely. He didn't quite know his own strength, as John slid of the bed altogether with a "Waa!". Sherlock sat up and looked at him. 'Good morning.'

John glanced up at him. '...Did you just push me onto the floor?'

'Of course I didn't. You had a bad dream and fell.'

'Really?'

'Yup.'

John shrugged and stood up. 'What are we doing today?'

'I've got a vague lead; I'll need to contact the Spanish police-'

'I meant about our holiday.'

'I thought we established that this wasn't a holiday.'

'It is for me.'

'Right. Off you go holidaying then.'

'You're included in this.'

'Why?'

'Because I want you to be.'

Sherlock smiled slightly. 'Fine. I'll humour you for this week.'

'Cheers. Swimming?'

The detective raised an eyebrow. 'Pardon?'

'I'll take that as a yes.' John replied, hunkering down over his suitcase. 'There's a pool on the terrace of this hotel.'

'...But I didn't pack any tru-' He was cut off when a pair of black swimming trunks hit his face.

'I know. I packed them for you.'

For the first time in a long while, John felt self-conscious. Of course he'd been swimming since he'd been shot, but not with Sherlock. And Sherlock's so...Sherlock. Like he'd care anyway. He doesn't think like that. But still! Like that stopped John from being nervous. He sent Sherlock ahead whilst he paced up and down their room, gnawing at his finger-nails. Chicken, he said to himself, stepping out of the room.

Despite them being in Spain, there was a hell of a lot of English-speaking people. A lot of which were Americans; size-of-a-house mothers taking their fifteen thousand children swimming, even though half of them couldn't swim anyway. Sherlock had evacuated himself from the chaos, dangling his feet in the deep end of the pool. John's mouth fell open when he saw him in nothing but swimming trunks. When Sherlock looked up at him, he quickly closed it again and made his way over to sit down next to him.

'You took your time.' Sherlock said.

John shrugged as he sat down. He looked away, making a big deal of scratching his shoulder so his hand could cover up his scar.

Sherlock frowned at him. 'You okay?'

'Yup.' John removed his hand quickly and looked straight ahead. He looked at Sherlock from the corner of his eye to see his eyes flicker to his scar for a millisecond before turning to look in the same direction as John. John winced and blushed. '...Oh.'

Sherlock looked back at him. 'What?'

'Nothing.' John replied, slipping into the pool with Sherlock following.

It was at this point when they both realised that the pool was two metres deep. Sherlock managed to stand in the water, whilst Johns head disappeared completely. He clung onto the side, reappearing. Sherlock smirked at him.

'Short-arse.'

'Hey!' John splashed him with his free hand. 'Just because I'm not weird-tall like some people.'

'I'm not weird-tall, I'm normal-tall.'

'This conversation is stupid. Shall we swim?'

Sherlock raised his eyebrow at the throng of people. 'Good luck with that.'

'Good point. Shall we just...ah...float?'

'Okay?'

Sherlock joined him in propping himself against the side of the pool. They watched in comfortable silence at the angry, frustrated parents, the screaming children, bored-looking teenagers. After a while, John tapped Sherlock on the shoulder and nodded towards two young women not far off from them. 'The one with curly hair fancies you.'

Sherlock blinked at him and then at the girls. 'Does she?' The girl with curly hair giggled and waved at him. 'Oh.' Sherlock said quietly. 'I don't want this.'

John laughed. 'She's not that bad!'

'I'm not interested. How do I sign-language "I'm not interested"?'

John rolled his eyes. 'Shake your head at her.' Sherlock shook his head at the two women. They blinked and frowned at him.

'I don't think they get it.'

'Mm.' John paused. 'Shake your head again and point at me.'

'Why?'

'It should work.'

Sherlock hesitantly did as he was told. The girls raised their eyebrows and looked at each other.

'Did that work?' Sherlock asked.

'I don't think so.'

'What do I do now?'

John thought for a moment. 'Do something gay.'

Sherlocks eyes widened at him. 'Sorry?'

'Trust me, it works every time.'

Sherlock went still, before slowly floating towards John. He slowly snaked an arm around him, smiling from the corner of his mouth. John mouth went dry as he looked up at him slowly. 'I...didn't mean at me...' Sherlock dipped his head and nibbled at John's ear.

Stay calm, stay calm, think of something disgusting, don't look at Sherlock, don't look at Sherlock.

Sherlocks arm slipped off Johns shoulder.

Phew.

And rested on the doctor's chest, running his fingers up and down it in lazy circles.

Oh, shit.

'You can stop now, Sherlock.' John managed to say. 'They've stopped looking at you now.'

Sherlock looked at the two women. 'Excellent.' He moved away from John.

You didn't have to stop if you didn't want to.

'They looked disappointed.' John said.

'Good for them.' Sherlock hoisted himself out of the pool. John blinked up at him.

'Oh, you done?'

'You tell me.'

John went beet-red. 'Ha.'

Sherlock smirked and sat at the side, dangling his feet in the pool again. 'Swimming can be quite enjoyable, can't it John?'

John narrowed his eyes. 'Shut up.'

'I shall not.' John started to smile, as he grabbed Sherlocks ankles. 'What are you-' John pulled hard, sending Sherlock back into the water. The detective yelped as the sheet of blue enveloped him entirely. John heard a muffled "bastard!" as the detectives head disappeared into the water.