"Come on Sherlock."
"No, John," the detective huffed, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.
"Every body has to eat Sherlock that includes yours." John pointed out, waving the wooden meat skewer in front of his flat mate's face.
"I agree, but a kabob?"
"What's wrong with it?" John sniffed. "It's lamb, one of your favorites."
"No, it's a kabob," Sherlock said, showing his disgusting by stressing the word. "Not one of my favorites."
"Yeah, well if you'd eaten earlier, like I wanted, our choices wouldn't be as limited as they are now, would they?" John indicated, gesturing to the street cart they were standing near.
"You know that eating while I work,"
"Slows you down, yes I know." John interrupted, "and so does passing out in the middle of the road from starvation."
Sherlock merely huffed and shrugged his shoulders, refusing to look at the doctor.
"Okay, don't eat it, but you're not allowed to complain about being hungry later if you do."
Sherlock snapped his gaze back to John at the doctor's words. The two friends stared at each other, hoping to bend the other to his will. Sherlock thought he stood a fair chance of winning until his stomach moaned in hunger, destroying any victory he may have had.
John smiled, knowingly and once again held out the food.
"Fine." Sherlock growled in the back of his throat. Begrudgingly the consultant detective grabbed the offered late night food and brought it to his nose. Sherlock sniffed it carefully glaring at the doctor as he did so, before lowering it to his mouth. Tentatively he took a bite, making a great show of his chewing and swallowing. "Hmn. Not bad, I've had better."
"Of course you have," John replied sarcastically, shaking his head. "I swear you can be the fussiest eater at the worst times."
"Just because I like quality when it comes to my food," Sherlock slipped in under his breath.
"What?"
"Nothing, John." Sherlock promised and turned to the street vendor. "I'd like three more lamb kabobs please. Only this time make it medium rare with less salt."
John stared at his friend and guffawed. "That's it I give up."
"I don't see why you're so upset, John. I minute ago you wanted me to eat, and now you're unhappy because I am. You must learn to 'stick to your guns', as it were otherwise no one will take you seriously."
John made a face like he was about to protest, but instead shoved his own kabob in his mouth, no doubt to stop the rude comment from coming out.
Pity, Sherlock thought, John can have the most colorful commentary when the mood strikes him.