5. The 'Hand me my Phone' Debate

(Can be seen as a later down the road part 2 to Midnight Serenade)

*buzz*

"John hand me my phone"

John sighed, "Where is it this time?"

"Floor," Sherlock didn't even look up from the coffee table he was kneeling beside apparently painting it with ink equations. John stared at whatever it was Sherlock deemed important enough to put all over their furniture. Then looked at the floor. It was next to his knee. Why is this becoming normal? Well because it's a Sherlock thing. John went to hand it to him, but Sherlock didn't take it.

John was definitely too used to Sherlock because he went to read it and found it was from his brother, and at a glance he found it wasn't anything important.

"Go ahead and delete it then," Sherlock said he didn't even need to ask who it was. "It's just his automated message to make sure he knows where my phone, and therefore I, am at."

"Right," John said as if questioning, but walked away shaking his head. To which Sherlock threw his phone at. It bounced off and fell at John's feet. He turned back to Sherlock with a face that looked like he was about to tell off a small child. The 'small child' was back to painting not even looking John's way.

"Um.. Ouch! What was that for Sherlock?"

*buzz*

"Pass my phone, John," Sherlock didn't look up absolute picture of innocence. That is if he wasn't painting the furnishings.

"No, I don't think I will. I'll be taking your phone," John scooped it up and walked into the kitchen.

"John give it back"

"Nope, I don't think so" Sherlock got up from his crouched spot by the table and pounced after John. And tripped falling at John's feet.

"Come on I need it," he said while attempting to stand twice before making it to his knees and jumping up to stand.

"No you don't. I answer it for you at least half the time anyway. Go back to decorating Sherlock. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"Fine," Sherlock pouted and went back to his graffiti job of their own flat. It seems like if Sherlock stayed in one house too long he'd make it into the strangest piece of art, or destroy it. Who knows what would happen first.

"Why'd you throw it at me anyways?"

"Didn't" John raised an eyebrow at Sherlock's back. "Bored," Sherlock supplied.

"Why do I feel like we're falling into a pattern?" He grumbled wandering to the fridge. Too which Sherlock didn't bother answering, but did his usual smirk of amusement at John who had just discovered the kneecaps in dishes of liquids.

And another! "I'm on Fire!" ^_^' Once again let me know if there's anything you'd like to see.

Thanks,

~ Rynn