You know this word had to come up sooner or later!
John was pecking away at his keyboard when Sherlock heard him mumbling under his breath.
"I'm sorry, did you just say Norbury?"
"Mm? Yeah, I'm writing about th—"
"No, you most certainly are not."
"Why not, because you were…" John paused, a smirk creeping across his face "wrong?"
"Exactly! If the purpose of your ridiculous storytelling is to bring in more clients, they shouldn't know about the failed ones."
Closing his laptop, John studied Sherlock's face for a moment.
"This genuinely bothers you, doesn't it? For all your talk of not caring what people think, the idea of people being aware that you screwed something up upsets you."
"Not people, exactly."
John quirked his eyebrow. "Mycroft, then? Ireeeene?" he drew her name out teasingly, ignoring the indignant look on Sherlock's face.
"Certainly not." Sherlock's brow furrowed, that strange horizontal crease that John found so charming forming at the bridge of his nose.
"If you must know, John. It's you. For some reason, what you think of me seems to matter to me more than the average person, and I loathe the idea of you fixating on my foibles."
"Alright then, Sherlock. Relax." Reaching out, he patted Sherlock's hand. "I'll get rid of it."
With a sigh, John opened his laptop and proceeded to edit the offending entry in his blog.