"Can't sleep, Watson?"
"Not really," I whispered.
"Why the whisper?" he whispered back.
"Too tired to talk properly."
"Why's this?"
"Sat up half the night waiting for you."
"Why'd you do that?"
"Some mad fondness for you, I suppose."
His irritated eyes twitched under closed lids. "If you're going to whisper, you'll have to come closer."
"Probably your ears." I spoke normally.
"Keep it down, you'll wake Mrs. Hudson!" the great detective hissed hoarsely.
"You said not to whisper," I said, whispering again.
"I said to come closer."
Pause.
"Closer."
Pause.
"Closer."
"Closer?"
"Closer."
The sheets ruffled with movement.
"Sh."