John pushed the key into the lock at Baker Street with a yawn. It was 8pm and he was getting home 2 hours later than he had intended.
During that time, he'd had three missed calls and 6 messages - all from Sherlock. He'd eventually replied to the final text message after his last patient had left.
Home in twenty. Order in - JW
He hadn't received a reply so as John climbed the stairs to 221B, he had no idea what would be waiting for him. A cracky detective. That much he did know.
John pushed open the lounge door and slid off his jacket, hanging it on the hook as he toed off his shoes.
"Tea?" he asked the overgrown foetal shape on the sofa. It mumbled a reply that seemed neither a yes or a no. John rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen anyway.
"You didn't finish this experiment today then." he said, more making an observation than asking as question as he wrinkled his nose at the smell. "Did you order in?"
The curled form replied with a long sigh.
"Fine, fine." John muttered, his voice low and trying to disguise the level of irritation he actually felt. He walked through to the living room and grabbed his phone, dialling up the local Thai restaurant and placing an order. He didn't bother asking Sherlock what he wanted. The detective - the child, John thought - was clearly in one of those moods, and John knew better.
"Right," John said, more to the flat than to his partner, "I'll just go shower while I wait for this to arrive then."
By the time he had come back down from the bathroom 15 minutes later, Sherlock had disappeared from the sofa and shut himself away in the bedroom.
John ate alone in the kitchen, his eyes occasionally darting to the bedroom door. Sherlock had forgotten then. John supposed that he shouldn't actually be surprised.
But he'd thought...well, it doesn't matter what he thought. He finished his meal and watched TV from the armchair where he eventually fell asleep.