Sorry for the huge gap between these - I was busy focusing on Out of my Head. Have some silly fluff to make up for it.
Something about the Holmes Manor always makes John a little nervous. He's followed Sherlock up there a few times now, and the stuffy oppressive quiet that spreads over the house never seemed to lift until this morning.
The staff have started opening the house for the spring - the curtains in the guest room have been drawn, letting wide shafts of sunlight in. Something about the sudden shift in the light brightens John's mood considerably, and he bounds out of bed and dresses quickly before hunting down Sherlock, who has already been awake for hours.
He finds the taller man at the landing, staring pensively downwards.
"Sherlock, I bet you slid down these when you were younger." John smirks, peering down the massive and imposing stairs.
Sherlock sniffs. "I did no such thing, John." He tries to look disdainful, but something about it just comes off as wistful, and John feels a pang of sadness for his best friend's strange and stolid upbringing. "Nanny would never have forgiven me if I'd ruined my school uniform."
"Come on. Didn't you ever have any fun in this house when you were younger? I'll race you down!" Overcome with a fit of juvenile impishness, and before Sherlock can argue or tell him off, John slides down the wide polished wood handrail of the balustrade.