A/N: there were a lot of things that had headcanon material in the wedding episode. watch me expand on a canon headcanon like the creative bitch i am

It was one of those quiet afternoons at Baker Street, when it started. Sherlock was quiet because he was riding the adrenaline the most recent case gave him. John was quiet because he almost got his head chopped off and he'd rather not talk about it.

Hence, a quiet afternoon.

Sherlock was typing away at a computer, John's computer, may he add. He looked up at John suddenly, and John got the feeling that the afternoon wouldn't be quiet any longer.

"John", Sherlock frowned,"what does the 'H.' in your blog title stand for?"

"No." John responded curtly. He did not look up from his newspaper. Out of all conversations, this was one he did not want to pursue right now.

"No?" Oh, dear god.

"It's my middle name", John finally indulged, "'H.'"

"Surely your middle name is not just a 'H.'", Sherlock scoffed.

"Oh yeah?" John put down his newspaper, staring down at Sherlock defiantly. His eyes were glinting merrily. "Well, I guess you'll have to find out." He left Sherlock in deep thought. The game was on.


From then on, it was chaos.

John was making tea the next day. Sherlock crossed his arms on the sofa decisively.

"Is it Harry?" "Nope."

"Harriet?"

"Nothing to do with my sister, Sherlock", John hummed under his breath.

"Hmmm" Sherlock retreated to his bedroom.


"Holmes?" Sherlock asked calmly the next day, leaning over a bloody corpse.

John sputtered, in the middle of his autopsy, "You-you're kidding, right?"

Sherlock leaned against the counter. "A possible reason for not telling me your middle name may be that it is the same one as my last name."

"Well, no."


"Say, what's up with the two of you?" Greg asked the next day at a crime scene.

Sherlock had been bombarding John with more middle names, while John distractedly denied them all.

John sighed, "Long story."

Sherlock came over and started narrating, "It was one of those quiet afternoons at Baker Street, when it started. I was quiet because I was riding the adrenaline the most recent case gave me. John was quiet because he almost got his head chopped off and he'd rather not talk about it. Hence, a quiet afternoon. I was typing away at a computer, John's computer, may I add. I looked up at John suddenly, and John got the feeling that the afternoon wouldn't be quiet any longer. 'John', I frowned,"what does the 'H.' in your blog title stand for?' 'No.' John responded curtly. He did not look up from his newspaper. 'No?' 'It's my middle name.' 'Surely your middle name is not just a 'H.'', I scoffed. "Oh yeah?" John put down his newspaper, staring down at me defiantly. His eyes were glinting merrily. 'Well, I guess you'll have to find out' he said"

Sherlock finished the tale in one breath.

"As John said, a long story."

"I still don't quite get how he does that," Greg mumbled.


Sherlock waltzed into the living room and pointed at John.

"Hooper", he declared.

John pointed at Sherlock from the sofa. "No."

Sherlock waltzed out dismally. John went back to his crap telly.


It was a quiet evening and Sherlock hadn't moved from the sofa. His fingers were steepled and he was looking off into the distance. He jerked back to reality suddenly.

"Hudson!" he yelled.

John sat down next to him. "She's out, remember?"

"No, no. I meant your name. Hudson."

John clicked his tongue and went to the kitchen. "Keep guessing."


Sherlock and John were walking on the crosswalk. The morgue contained the body of their latest victim, and Molly never liked to be kept waiting.

"I could always get Mycroft to get your birth certificate." the detective reflected.

John raised an eyebrow.

"I could!"

The other eyebrow rose up. The two stared at each other at the end of the street.

"You wouldn't, though," John concluded.

"And why wouldn't I?"

"Because, Sherlock", John continued, examining the pavement,"the game is on."

"And when the game is on," he added,"you deduce the facts."


Sherlock slammed the door shut. "John! I figured it out."

"Figured what out?" John looked up from his laptop.

"Hamish," Sherlock said.

"Hamish," John echoed stiffly.

"Hamish Jackson, plumber. The victim must have stumbled upon the counterfeit money, killed in cold blooded murder."

"Oh" John breathed a sigh of relief, "that's all?"

"Yes" John went back to his typing, "although it is strange how you reacted upon hearing the name. One might even think you recognized it." John groaned and resisted the urge to slam his head onto the laptop screen.

He turned around and slow clapped, "Alright, the great Sherlock Holmes solved another mystery. How did you do it? Was it a lucky guess?"

Sherlock ignored him.

"Oh my gosh," John whispered faintly,"Sherlock?"

Silence.

"It really was a lucky guess, wasn't it?"

Sherlock sniffed and looked away resolutely. John grinned. If he got Sherlock resorting to random guesswork for getting his middle name right, it really was worth it.