18-1

John and Sherlock were still dozing in each other's arms when there was a knock at the door. John didn't even register what was happening until he saw Sherlock throw on some clothes and stride out of the bedroom. He rubbed his eyes furiously to wake himself up, and dragged himself out of the bed. He redressed in his cable knit sweater and jeans, before groggily walking in the living room. There he saw Sherlock stood facing the window, Lestrade the other end of the room with his hands in his pockets. John sighed, knowing he had a difficult conversation ahead of him. He made his way over to the kitchen to switch on the kettle."

"Morning Lestrade, tea?" asked John.

"Please," he replied, not taking his eyes of Sherlock's back, looking as exasperated as ever.

"Sherlock?" asked John. He didn't receive an answer, but as usual, he made him one anyway. The next ten minutes past by in silence, and John stood in the kitchen, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. He made his way over to his chair, sitting down with the intent of breaking the increasingly awkward silence. However, Lestrade spoke first.

"John, Sherlock expects me to believe since you and I last spoke, nothing has happened with Moriarty. Want to tell me the truth."

John opened his mouth, and he was shot a glaring look from Sherlock, a reminder that some things were best left unsaid at this stage.

"Nothing has happened," he replied curtly.

"Oh don't give me that John," Lestrade sighed, clearly stressed out. "If nothing has happened, then why are you both holed up in the flat, not working and avoiding contact with everyone else?"

John was quick to come up with a response. "I mentioned to you before Sherlock was ill and needed time away from his cases. And, as his doctor, I felt it best to be in his company."

Lestrade looked them both up and down for what seemed a long while, before nodding, seemingly satisfied with Johns answer. Sherlock still stood at the window, his back to the two men.

"So neither of you have seen or heard anything at all from him?"

John shook his head. "Nothing. And besides, if he had somehow managed to get into the flat, it would mean the officers outside were doing a pretty shoddy job wouldn't it." He regretted his words instantly, worrying about the reaction Sherlock might have to being watched by the police.

Lestrade removed his hands from his pockets, and smoothed down the front of his suit jacket.

"I need to know if something happens, however small or insignificant it might seem," stressed Lestrade. "I can't have you two hiding things from me."

"Yes very good, see you later Lestrade," Drawled Sherlock, in an extremely bored tone, signifying he was eager for the inspector to leave.

Lestrade knew his stay was becoming a nuisance, and bid his farewells to both the men, asking once again for them not to withhold information. After seeing Lestrade out, John sat down on the sofa, exasperated from the conversation. Sherlock whisked around and threw himself on the sofa, his head landing neatly in Johns lap.

"What a mess we are in Doctor Watson," he sighed, clearly as stressed as John was.

"Yep," answered John, absentmindedly beginning to stroke Sherlock's hair. "Think it was wise, not telling Lestrade."

"It was the only thing we could do. It is likely Moriarty is watching us and we can't afford to trip up and end up with blood on our hands."

"Yes you are right."

"By the way," said Sherlock. "Were you ever going to tell me you were having me watched by the police, or were you just hoping my brilliant self wouldn't notice?"

John cursed under his breath, causing Sherlock to let out a deep, hearty laugh.

"I knew the exact second they arrived; I am very surprised you thought such a thing would escape me"

John cursed himself again, mentally this time. It was pretty obvious such a thing as armed officers would attract Sherlock's attention, nothing with him went amiss.

"Were you ever going to tell me you noticed?" asked John.

Again Sherlock laughed. "I figured you were best left in your ignorance, as you thought I was best left in mine."

John grinned at this, glad Sherlock wasn't upset at him, and glad they had both done things with the best of intentions.

"What do we do now then? About Moriarty, do we just sit and wait?" he asked the detective, regretting the fact he had to lower the tone.

"Heavens no, we work out his motives. But as you know Doctor, serious problems are best figured out by the subconscious, so in the meantime, I suggest we spend the day doing something trivial, letting my brain work on the conundrum while we enjoy ourselves."

"Sounds good to me," agreed John. "Anything in particular you want to do?"

"Let's see," began Sherlock. "Judging on the date, my new suit should be ready. I've given the tailor two days leeway; it should be ready for collection by now. Oh and I haven't been to see molly in a while, I'm sure she will have something interesting for me. Then I would like to pick up some chemical supplies, I know a little place that should have what I'm after."

John laughed, sure he would never get used to Sherlock's odd ways. Experimenting on cadavers and buying acid was certainly not how he imagined he would be spending his days after he left the army. Not that he minded, anything that brought excitement to his life he welcomed, as much as he did protest to Sherlock, he liked his situation very much. Not that he liked being tailed by a serial killer, but he sincerely hoped the problem would be handled soon. Sherlock was clever, and he hoped clever enough to catch out Moriarty before he did anything terrible.

"Is that it then?" John asked. "Shopping and Barts. What about the rest of the day?"

Sherlock looked up with a smile on his face. "Oh well after I've dragged you around, I'm sure I owe you, so feel free to pick any activity to occupy us for the rest of the day."

John smiled and resumed playing with Sherlock's hair. He knew the detective wouldn't like it, but he had the perfect afternoon planned.