John looks at the bedside table clock. It's 6 in the morning. Eyes half closed he pulls the duvet closer to his neck and turns another side. The nightmares have considerably decreased in the last six months. He feels warm, cosy and fresh after a deep sleep. Sherlock's already awake or maybe he didn't sleep again. He could hear sounds from the kitchen. Tinkling sounds of glass equipment, things being moved here and there, he could almost see Sherlock's elegant pale hands at work. He was on another experiment. Shit. As John became fully conscious he almost dreaded that at any moment these lingering sounds maybe drowned by the sound of a blast. He had to get up, make tea, serve the git, take a bath and go to work. He was the nanny to his flat mate, who wouldn't eat or sleep or take care of any of his bodily needs unless coaxed to do so. Oh hell, he'll not even take the phone out of his own pocket when I'm around. Thought John affectionately, sloppily getting off the bed and putting on his dressing gown he went down stairs.

Sherlock was standing in the kitchen, hands behind back, leaning on the microscope intently. He became aware of John entering and said without turning "I made you an omelette." John almost staggered back losing all traces of sleep. Eyes widened he asked "What?!"Sherlock turned and faced him, expression nonchalant; he went to the microwave and opening it took out a plate with an omelette. He came back to face John who was agape by then and put the plate on the kitchen table in front of him "an omelette, John." Wide eyed and open mouthed John stared at Sherlock then at the food. Finally restoring mental equilibrium he swallowed and asked "is it an experiment?" with an wary look he asked "is it poisoned?. Sherlock didn't say anything; he just took a spoon, cut a piece of the omelette and ate, all the time looking at John who was giving him a suspicious look. He swallowed and crossed his arms on his chest and stared at John does that answer your stupid question John? written on his face. For several moments John didn't know how to react, he stood there looking at Sherlock with a surprised expression. He cooked for me? A man who doesn't even do his own washing, doesn't clean up the kitchen after a blast caused by him, doesn't even take out the phone from his own trouser pocket cooked for me! Actually! Finally he found the vitality to say "uh. Thanks Sherlock. That's actually very nice…"Sherlock had turned to his microscope again, totally ignoring John behind him. I'm an idiot! John mentally slapped his forehead. Suddenly he was embarrassed and at the same time his heart was filled with a warm feeling he never knew before. This resulted in a rather shy goofy grin on his face. He started about to make tea and make amends. What sense does it make? For a man who makes the life of all those around him hell by his eccentricities, namely putting organs in the fridge, making the kitchen blow up, treating everybody like an idiot, makes John feel like he owns him, puts him through life threatening situations, lets him do all the earthly works for the home and yet his just making an omelette for him makes John feel this way! If it was any other man I should have totally ignored the gesture of maybe punched him in the face long ago or just won't even begin to think about staying with. But this was Sherlock. This is the closest he can come to saying thank you, after all he's a sociopath. Thought John, smiling to himself and feeling grateful that he was the person Sherlock's generosity was extended to.

"Here's your tea." John said putting the cup next to Sherlock, "I've also put some in the flask for you. Please have a toast." Sherlock rarely ate; if he could help he wouldn't ever eat. John made it a point to put calories in him; he was a doctor and could not bear someone neglecting himself like Sherlock did. Sherlock's negligence towards himself hurt him. He tricked Sherlock by applying generous amount of butter on the toasts, because Sherlock would only eat one and would definitely skip lunch saying "I ate this morning." "Umm." Was the only answer he got from his flatmate who was still hooked to the microscope. John realised he was still smiling. He sat at the kitchen table and ate and drank. Then he went to take a bath. Under the warm rain of water John thought who would believe? Sherlock Holmes cooked for his flatmate? Nobody who knew Sherlock would, but he felt the urge to share this with someone, as if it were a new adventure, a new beginning? John straightened himself, shocked. Sherlock made an omelette for you, fine! Don't make a big deal out of it! Put yourself together John Watson! He's your flatmate for god sake! What are you thinking! John shook himself out of his daydreaming state.

"Having a good day doctor?"

John looked up from the papers on his table on which his eyes had been fixed. There was only one surgery that day which went successfully, he was busy with the reports of other patients when Sarah popped her head through his door. John smiled at her putting the papers away. She came in and sat before him.

"The surgery was successful then?" said Sarah contemplatively.

"Yes it was." Said John with a deep breath and smiled relaxing.

"Anything else?" Asked Sarah with a raised eyebrow and amused smile.

"What? No, no. nothing else." John said self-consciously.

"Want to go out for coffee?"

"Sure."

At a coffee shop not far from St. Brat's they both sat down with at a table near the window. John remembered sitting there with Sherlock once; they were watching the movements of a suspect.

"How's your flatmate?" Asked Sarah.

"Hmm?" said John a bit disoriented "Oh! He's fine." Why is Sarah suddenly asking about Sherlock? She never does that, thought John.

"So, are you two on a new case?"

"No, why?" John's suspicions were growing now, where is this conversation going?

Seeing the questioning look on John's face Sarah explained "You look like this only when it's something regarding Sherlock Holmes."

John grew more self-conscious. This was not good, not a bit, if Sarah had noticed something like this then maybe the rest of the world has too, and oh my god! That means Sherlock too! John winced involuntarily. What if everybody else knew something about him which he himself didn't admit? wait maybe I'm taking this the wrong way, maybe she means that I look excited, even that's not good. Failing to reach a satisfying conclusion John tensed a bit, furrowing his brows.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Aaa, what do you mean by 'look like this'?"

"Like you did this whole morning! Happy, contended, excited." Sarah said enthusiastically.

"Well it doesn't always mean it's something about Sherlock, though yes he has made my life quite enjoyable lately!" John said attempting a joke.

Sarah looked at him with empathy "What did he do to make you feel like this today?"

"Oh Sarah please don't pull that 'I'm a psychiatrist 'trick with me!" John said with an irritated look.

"I'm just pulling 'I'm your friend and you can talk to me if you want to' trick John." Sarah said with emphasis. "You clearly look like you're at war with yourself."

John turned his face away, elbows resting on the table. I'm not at war, far worse than that, I'm lost, confused. Can I tell her that? God she has already guessed things. She's a psychiatrist, no use lying to her. And god! Even I need to confine in somebody! I can't talk about this with Sherlock! John put his hands together. Sarah was watching him intently.

"Sherlock made me an omelette this morning." As soon as he said it he looked away from Sarah, from fear of being laughed at. What a silly thing she may think!

But she did something totally opposite. She reached out and took his hand and squeezed it gently, reassuringly. A gesture which said it is okay, I understand. John looked up; she smiled at him and said "It does feel good when someone special does something for us." John's eyes widened and just as he opened his mouth to say something, Sarah spoke again "Don't jump to conclusions John, take time, relax, let your thoughts your take their own course. Don't analyse too much or force yourself into anything." John let out a deep sigh and smiled back. He thanked god mentally for giving him a friend like Sarah and decided to take her advice.