Sherlock does not go to the store. Ever. He doesn't like public places like stores. Too many people. Too many annoying people, like mothers and children. He does not buy milk. He does not buy beans. He does not buy bread. He does not buy John's jam. He does not buy tea. He does not buy anything.

John doesn't really mind all that much. Usually. Sometimes he gets tired of it. Sometimes he thinks it's a bit too much that Sherlock is a grown man that doesn't wash his own hair, or cook his own meals, or wake up at a reasonable hour, or doesn't even pick out his own clothes. John often wonders what Sherlock did before he moved in, but then John remembers that Sherlock probably lived with his mother until he was 25, then he spent all those years chasing that woman, Irene, around the world. He probably didn't need to worry about simple things like going to the store.

Sometimes John would get annoyed with Sherlock not going to the store. So, John would set out to get Sherlock to go at least once a month. He'd start slow, by simply asking Sherlock to go to the store.

John and Sherlock were actually having a normal phone conversation while John was at work. "I've got a lot of patients this afternoon. Do you think you can go to the store for me?"

"For what?"

"Milk, bread, cheese, maybe…"

"No, I mean why would I want to go to the store?"

"To help me out?"

"Why?"

"Because you love me? I don't know, Sherlock. Please?"

"If I…have time."

"Alright, I've got to go. I love you."

"Mhm."

"Sherlock. I love you."

"Yes."

"Tell me you love me, Sherlock."

"Too many difficult tasks for one afternoon."

"Telling me you love me is too difficult?"

"Mmmmm."

"You are a child."

"Goodbye, John."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

John figured Sherlock did his one nice task for the afternoon. He wasn't going to hold his breath waiting for milk to be in the fridge that evening.

Two days later, John thought he'd be funny and leave Sherlock a note asking for him to go to the store.

He left one note. On the refrigerator.

"Sherlock, store? Love, John."

When John got home, he went straight to the fridge to check for milk. There was none, and the note was still there.

"Sherlock, didn't you see my note?"

"What note?"

"The one on the fridge."

"No. What did it say?"

"I asked you to go to the store."

"Why?"

"Not this again."

"I don't like stores, John."

"For me, Sherlock? Just once?"

"No."

"I understand. You don't love me."

"Don't be that way."

"Why can't you do just one thing for me?"

"I can do a lot of things for you. Just not go to the store."

"Fine."

Two days later, John decided he was going to be as annoying as he could be. He left notes everywhere. Multi-colored Post-It's were stuck everywhere in the flat, the multi-colored ones Sherlock hated the most.

There was one stuck to Sherlock's forehead, "Store."

There was one stuck to Sherlock's phone, "Store."

There was one stuck to Sherlock's laptop, "Store."

There was one stuck to the screen of Sherlock's laptop, "Store."

There were at least fifteen more around that said, "Store."

Then, he got creative.

There was one stuck to Sherlock's favorite mug, "Tea."

There was one stuck to the shower curtain -strategically placed with an item John wanted least, in assumption that Sherlock wasn't going to see the shower curtain that day-, "Soup."

There was one on the sink, "Toothpaste."

There were three on the mirror, "Shampoo." "Razors." "Shaving crème."

There were four in the fridge, "Milk." "Cheese." "Bread." "Apples."

There was one on the couch, "Laundry detergent."

There was one on the current book Sherlock was reading, "Soap."

There was one on the window, "Window cleaner."

There was one on the television, "Dust cleaner."

There were a ton more.

And scattered anywhere in flat that they could possibly have sex -about twenty on the floor, at least ten plastered on the walls, three on the kitchen table, four in the bathtub, and around thirty in their bed - there were multi-colored notes that said, "Condoms."

Sherlock saw the game John was playing. He, too, could be as annoying as possible. He was going to go to the store, and somehow the only thing that he was going to remembered that was on John's twisted list was condoms.

So he bought sixteen boxes of condoms.

When John got home, Sherlock was very pleased with himself. He was sitting on the couch reading his book. The Post-It's were gone, so John knew he saw them.

"Did you go to the store, then?" was the first thing John said when he walked through the door.

"My afternoon was great, darling. How was yours?"

"Did you go to the store?"

"Fine, pay no attention to me."

"Did you go to the store?"

"Yes, John."

John stopped mid-jacket-taking-off. "What?"

"I did."

"Did you get everything on the list?"

"More or less."

"What does that mean?"

"I got more or less everything on the list."

Sherlock didn't end his game at getting just condoms at the store. He took it further by taping one condom to every surface he knew John would see when he got home. There was one on the coat rack. One on the bathroom mirror. One on the toilet. Three on the bed. One on John's closet. One on their bedroom door. One on the fridge. One in the fridge. There were condoms everywhere.

"Sherlock!" John called from the bedroom.

"Yes?"

"Did you get just condoms at the store?"

"I said more or less everything on the list."

"So, not anything on the list except condoms?"

Sherlock smiled. "Would you like to use one now?"

"No, I don't want to use one now! I want you to buy milk!"

"I went to the store-"

"Yes, the little spoiled baby went to the store and bought only condoms because you're a spoiled little baby that has to have me do everything, right? This is your little game that you think you've won because now I'm upset and NO, Sherlock, I do not want to have sex with you!"

"I was just-"

"I know you were just, Sherlock! Just trying to have a laugh and just trying to make light of every situation you're ever in. I'm not your mother, Sherlock!"

"All right, I'm sorry." Sherlock went to John and tried to wrap his arms around him.

"No, Sherlock. I don't want 'I'm sorry'. I want, 'Yes, John, my love, my life, I will buy you milk because you do everything to make me happy and just once I'd like to make you happy.'"

"John, calm down-"

"NO, Sherlock, I will not calm down! Don't you see? I do everything for you, and you can't even go down the street for milk!"

And like that Sherlock was out of the apartment. The door slammed behind him and John just stared at where Sherlock was once standing. John groaned and went to the door. He ran out and into the street, but Sherlock was nowhere in sight.

Sherlock was gone for almost two hours. He left without his phone, so John had no way of getting a hold of him. When he came back, John was in their bed on the computer.

"John?"

John sat up straight and closed his laptop.

Sherlock came to the doorway. "I'm sorry, John, I was just trying to-"

"No, Sherlock, I'm sorry. We were both trying to be funny and I got angry when I started it. I shouldn't have yelled. I love doing things for you, honest. I love taking care of you-"

"I brought you milk."

"What?"

"I brought you milk." Sherlock sort of smiled, just enough to melt John's heart.

"Come here."

Sherlock was on the bed and hooked to John in an instant. Their lips touched and parted, John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and pulled Sherlock on top of him.

"I couldn't remember anything else on the list, except milk. And, uh, condoms." Sherlock sort of smiled again.

"Well, it's a good thing we've got plenty of those." John pushed Sherlock onto the bed and got on top of him, then, while kissing Sherlock, he reached onto the headboard and pulled one of the condoms off the headboard.