"You hate early mornings." Sherlock stated simply, in his usual nonchalant manner.
"Now I wonder how you came to that conclusion?" John replied tetchily. He'd been kept awake all night by that cursed violin. Again. It seemed like it would never stop. Too late, he'd realised he had overfilled his cereal bowl, and it was now spilling all over the floor. Great. If he was going to try to even look remotely intelligent in front of this man, he was failing. He must appear a total imbecile to Sherlock, he couldn't get cereal into a bowl. Sherlock was watching him, bemused.
"Where's the Hoover?" John asked resignedly.
"Oh, that thing. Well, it's broken." Sherlock replied innocently, without looking up from his violin.
"Not another one of your bloody experiments again, is it?
Actually, it broke because of one of my experiments. I misplaced one of the fingers, I stepped on it , and it flew everywhere, including my good shoes, and my failed attempt to clean it up resulted in the broken Hoover. I know how much you dislike mess. I hide it in the airing cupboard." Sherlock looked at him, using his rare puppy eye look which finally cracked John.
"Fine, fine. But you can buy the new one."
Behind the cover of the fridge door, John smiled. That was very considerate of Sherlock. He wasn't usually, well, that human. Maybe he did respect John. But when he saw the human head in the fridge, his smile dropped.
"Sherlock! What the hell have you done now?"