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He was quite sure, not a 99.9% sure, a 101.85% sure his cheeks and his ears were bright red, and that his own blood was running inside his head. His heart stopped beating, he could feel it. It was like if his senses were in alert, just like in Afghanistan.

The man in front of him was none other than Sherlock Holmes, the only consultive Detective in the world and he was naked. That smile that had been on his face when their landlady appeared had gone and now he was facing the mirror again, looking worriedly at the spots on his pelvis.

"John, take a look please"

Finally, after seconds that lasted like hours to the Doctor, John managed to think what he was looking at and why Sherlock was asking that, to him.

"I won't examine you, Sherlock. Go to the surgery there's plenty of doctors and-"

The taller man walked a few steps until he was just inches away from him. He placed his hands on his hips like usual and looked at him with a frown. Now John Watson had no place to go since he had his back against the wall of his own room.

"But you're my doctor, John"

"But I'm not going to examine you there!"

"Why?"

They looked at each other. Sherlock was looking for answers and John a way to disappear. It was his room, the one who should leave was Sherlock, not him.

"Why, John?"

A deep sigh emerged from John's lips. Three deep breaths and-

"I can't Sherlock. It's-"

"Embarassing, annoying, ugly, irritating, inconvenient, provoking? Shall I continue?"

"No, its not-"

"So, if its not, take a look please -He looked down at his pelvis and penis- because this is worrying me. I was looking myself this morning and found this strange spots and I don't know what they are!"

John looked at his flatmate. He looked worried, he had to admit it. But he also was acting like a child who makes a fuss when his mother doesn't want to buy him a toy. And he also knew Sherlock wasn't going to stop making such a fuss until he examinate him.

With a long sigh he nodded and pushed Sherlock outside his room.

"Let me have a shower and look for my bag. Go downstairs and please put something on"

But far away from Sherlock accepting his words, he continued complaining.

"John! Do it now, I might die!"

"You're definetly not going to die. No one dies from spots in their- their pelvis. So go down, put something on and go and apology to Mrs Hudson"

"But-"

"No buts"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and went directly to his room to look for something to wear and to apologize his landlady. He found his blue dressing gown and reached the stairs down. During his walk through the seventeen steps, he knew he had no reason to apologize, Mrs Hudson was the landlady but she had to knock before coming in. But he was going to apologize anyway, John wouldn't have forgive him.

He knocked the door, and he could hear the slowly steps getting closer to the door. When the old lady opened the door, he smiled at her genuinely.

"What can I do for you, dear?"

"I'm so sorry for what had happened Mrs Hudson. But I no really see why I should apology, you should have knocked the door but-"

She patted his shoulder and smiled at him sincerly. "It's fine dear. Doctor Watson sent you, right?"

The Detective nodded with the face expression of a child who had been punished for eating cookies before dinner.

"Tell him everything is OK"

And when she closed the door, Sherlock climbed the stairs. It had been a few minutes and John never took more than five minutes under the shower.

And he was right because when he opened the door John was sitting in his armchair, with his medical bag over the table and reading his Grey's Anatomy book. He had been reading it that morning, looking for some article or chapter about spots. But he couldn't find anything.

"Did you apologize to Mrs Hudson?"

"Yes. Now John, can you take a look please?"

The Doctor nodded and looked at the sofa.

"Lie down"

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