Welcome back!

There we go with the third chapter, which may be a little short but I hope you'll like it anyway :)

Thoughts of a 'sociopath'

Exactly one hour later Sherlock practically jumped to his feet. What the hell was he doing? Covering John with his blanket? Ridiculous! And what are these stupid thoughts in his head, all this sentiment? He didn't care about anyone, not even about himself! Why should he suddenly start with something so ordinary and distractingly as feelings? No. It really didn't matter if John looked sweet in his jumper! Wait a moment…sweet…did he really just thought SWEET?! Damn. Bored. YES, that had to be it! He was just bored and his mind desperately had to think about something and…This didn't make any sense, did it? Well, it was certainly better than to think that he, Sherlock Holmes, had become weak and that just because of John! Ha, what an idiotic thought! Nobody made a sociopath feel, not even John with his cuddly jumpers and his soft eyes, which were deep and blue and reminded him of the ocean…Damn. He had to do something, distract himself from all these ghastly emotion. Angrily, Sherlock stomped off into the kitchen and tried to start a new experiment. It worked and during the next 5 hours the detective buried his thoughts happily in chemical reactions and science.

All went perfectly well until he heard a yawn and a shifting blanket out of the living room. Suddenly his thoughts started spinning again, making him sick to his stomach. John. Eyes. Dark blue. Ocean. Date. Drunk. Emotion. Blanket. Feelings. Experiment, he had to concentrate on his experiment. Yes. John. Yes. No. WHAT? A desperate cry escaped his mouth and footsteps came closer.

"Sherlock? Are you okay?"

John, who stood unsteady and heavily blinking in the doorway with a worried expression on his face, stopped in his tracks as Sherlock raised a warning hand.

"Leave" he commanded sharply.

"Sherlock, are you sure you're fine?"

"I'm feeling perfectly and now…"

The scientist waved impatiently in the direction of the living room.

"Alright, alright", John said, giving up trying to understand his friend's moods. The doctor thought back to the pub and groaned. The first time Sherlock went out for a pint and what had he done? He drank one beer after the other.

"Congratulations John", he whispered darkly while he sat himself in front of the television to rest his dizzy feeling head. There was still too much alcohol in his blood to do anything more useful right now.

Meanwhile, Sherlock went into his mind palace to throw all his uncontrollably feelings in a little, almost empty room named 'emotions'. After that was done, he still felt a little odd and vulnerable, but it was much better than before. Steeling himself, he gracefully moved into the living room, picked up his violin and played during the whole afternoon.

John, who turned off the TV after the first tone, listened a long time, until he realised that he had to do some shopping and brought also some take away with him. The groceries were placed on the upperpart of the fridge, so they didn't touch the leg and ruin a woman's life. The evening was quiet and comfortably, John even managed Sherlock to watch a movie with him. He should've known better.

"Oh please, it was his nephew; you simply have to look at his shoes!"

"Sherlock", John hissed and glared angrily at his companion, who looked like the most innocent person in the world.

"What? You can't tell me you haven't noticed!"

Sherlock let out a suffering groan and shook his head unbelievingly.

"How boring life must be with such a little, stupid brain. My respect that you haven't shot yourself yet, I would have certainly done it already."

John rolled his eyes at the detective's arrogance and an amused smile tucked in the corner of his lips while he desperately tried to follow the movie.

"And even Anderson acts better than the main character! You have to be blind AND brainless not to see that he definitely isn't in love with the woman who plays his 'wife'"

The doctor blinked confused and frowned a little bit.

"You know that they are married also in real life, don't you?"

Sherlock huffed and shot him one of his don't-be-stupid-of-course-I-know-because-it's-obvious-looks.

"But you just said that…"

"Yes, of course he doesn't love her! Watch closely, what you see in his eyes when he looks at his so called 'wife' isn't attraction but annoyance and distaste. And now look at him and the blonde actor who plays his brother. You see?"

John did as he was said and tried to think like Sherlock. And indeed, the two actors seemed to somehow handle each other a bit too careful, always with slight smiles and too much shared glances.

"He cheated on her with their colleague? Wait, but that means he's…"

"Gay", the deep voice finished his sentence.

"Good John, very good", Sherlock admitted and seemed actually proud, which let John's smile grew even wider.

"Now, what can you tell me about the nephew?"

And so, the two flatmates deduced every actor, giggling like schoolgirls when they found something utterly embarrassing or unexpected. In the end, John had to admit that this was far more fun than just looking the otherwise really boring movie.

Eventually, the doctor switched to a documentation about a little farm and the first picture they saw on the screen was a big, dirty pig. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"There you have Anderson in his natural environment"

They looked back at the ugly animal which blinked stupidly in the camera and started laughing like there was no tomorrow.

"And here comes Sally", John giggled and pointed on a confused looking cow which joined the pig on the screen. Now their self-control was completely shattered and both fell on the floor where they giggled until tears were running down John's face and Sherlock hold onto his aching stomach. As they tried to calm down,suddenly an old, grey sheep seemed to get angry with the other two animals and looked so much like Lestrade that they started to laugh hysterically again.

"Holly lord, please let this stop!", John gasped between fits of giggles, barely able to breath.

Finally, Sherlock managed to stand up and turned the telly off.

"Do you really want to sleep on the floor?", The detective asked the dark figure to his feets, amusement glittered in his normally cold, emotionless eyes.

"No, it's a bit too cold down here", John answered and struggled to his feet, trying to find the way to his bedroom in the darkness.

After he reached stairs he turned the lights on and wanted to say good night, but the living room was already empty. The ex-soldier shrugged his shoulders and went up to his room, collapsing on his soft mattress. He fell asleep before he could change his clothes and his last thought was, that today he'd caught glimpses of the real Sherlock, and what he'd had seen behind his cold mask pleased him, very much so. He should definitely watch movies with him more often.

So, as always every review brightens my day ;)