"Come with me, John," Sherlock implored, his voice matching his eyes; bright and full of promise.
How could John truly refuse Sherlock and be making the right choice?
He nodded and Sherlock beamed. "Great. Bring your gun, though I hope it isn't needed. Oh and uh, leave your wallet."
John sighed, but did as he instructed. He double checked the gun, making sure the gun was loaded and the safety was active before tucking it in his back belt loop. He still had his coat on so he knew his wallet was on him, but he checked it, too just to reaffirm that it was indeed there. He pulled it out and placed it on the side table and headed to the stairs.
Sherlock was waiting for him at the bottom of the stair, his back turned to him. Impatient as ever, thought John. He was about to tell Sherlock that he was ready to go when the seventh step gave a loud creak and the consultant detective opened the door.
John grinned realizing the detective had been focusing his sole attention on the sound of him on the stair. There was something endearing about Sherlock waiting on him, though John wasn't given any time to think about it as their cab arrived and Sherlock all but shoved John into it. John noted that Sherlock had touched his back right where he had stashed his handgun when he entered the cab but he didn't comment on it, he was getting used to dealing with whatever Sherlock did in order to cover his basis. John had no idea what maddness they were rushing into and John found thathe didn't mind too much, after all he had agreed to come with Sherlock.