"Why are you avoiding my question, John?"
"Because I've already answered it." John had brought the newspaper into Sherlock's room and they'd been trading off sections all morning. He was also using it as a convenient way to watch and make sure no more toast ended up on the floor or in the bin without having to endure Sherlock's usual intent staring. He knew it was intended to put him off, and it always worked. At least with the paper up between them, he could pretend not to notice.
"No you haven't. Your answer is much too general. It's hardly scientific, which makes it unhelpful."
"Sentiments aren't. Eat your eggs, would you? They'll only get cold if you push them all over the plate."
"Aren't what?"
"Scientific. Eat your eggs."
"Yes, thank you so much for pointing that out, however would I have reached that understanding without your help."
John dipped the newspaper long enough to shoot Sherlock a glare which was received with annoying cheerfulness.
"Eggs. Now, Sherlock."
There was a long silence that he just knew was filled with Sherlock thinking something devious to amuse himself. A restless genius should be banned by the Geneva Convention…
"And if I were to refuse to eat them?"
"I'd be forced to come over there and make you, wouldn't I?"
"Alright. Do it then."
Well… that was unexpected…
He lowered the newspaper again, leveling his best stern look at Sherlock who smiled serenely back. "You're worse than a primary-schooler, d'you know that?"
"Still refusing."
"Oh for god's sake…"
Sherlock ate obediently once John made good on his threat to force-feed him. He was feeling hungrier lately anyway, now that he'd been getting proper rest, and he knew his brother and his flat-mate would both flay Lestrade alive if he had offered Sherlock a case before he was mobile, so there was no need to worry about digestion slowing him down at work.
He'd more wanted to see if he could goad John into it than anything else. Sherlock had a strong suspicion he knew exactly what had moved John Watson to do what he had, but he wouldn't be content without proof.
Sherlock waited for the exact moment that John stooped down to pick up the now empty plate, placing the man's head in exactly the correct position. With one quick, fluid motion, he had his arms around the doctor's neck and gave it one quick, gentle squeeze before letting go. As expected, John dropped the plate and nearly fell over backward, catching himself on a chair. His face had definitely acquired a deep flush. The plate shattered, but John seemed not to have noticed.
"What.. what was-"
"Thank you, that answers my question quite nicely."
