AN: HEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYY! So guys, I'm reeeeaaaalllllyyyy sorry bout not posting over the weekend but I was shouting at snotty eleven year olds all weekend. To be honest I would rather have been updating for you guys. Anyways, thanks to GRock87, Fantasybean, Trakrat (formerly known as Alicia) and Boxerbee for reviews and all the guys that favourite. I must also apologise to Charlock221 for forgetting to mention them when they reviewed.

Anyways, this chapter was prompted by GRock87 in her amazingness. Thank you for prompts also as I have gone from having none to having them coming out of my ears. But by no means does that mean stop.

If the good lord had not intended you to review, he wouldn't have provided you with the sexy little grey box. Think on it my child

Lily

I drummed my fingers irritably against the bed frame as the phone rang. I was sincerely praying that he'd pick up. This could be a matter of life and death...

Damn him! I thought as the answer machine sounded. I quickly hung up and dialled again, sweat breaking out on my forehead at the mere thought of what might be happening in my absence.

I heard the click of someone picking up on the other end.

'What John?'

'You know perfectly well what Sherlock! Well? Have you?'

'Well, no not yet but...'

'Sherlock!'

'John, I have told you before...'

'And I have told you! Kitchen, Now!'

'John, this is undignified!' he hissed

I snorted 'Oh this is undignified? And a thirty year old man needing a phone call every day to remind him to eat isn't?'

'I didn't ask you to call me.' He shot back 'This is entirely under your own merit.'

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. Time to play the closing shot I felt. Enter Federer.

'Sherlock.' I said calmly 'If you don't start eating regularly and responding a little more politely to my calls, I'm going to call in Mycroft. And he will bring Lestrade with him.'

There was silence on the other line. Game, set, match Federer, I thought smugly.

Finally there was a low sigh and I heard some distant grumbling before the sound of a phone being picked up and a very grumpy consulting detective said,

'Where's the bacon?'

I smiled 'In the fridge. Under the butter dish full of eyeballs.'

'John, why is edible food underneath experiments? It's unhygienic.'

Shortly afterwards I fell off the bed and lay on the floor giggling while Sherlock indignantly insisted that 'It's not that funny!' I was saved from choking on my own spit by a yelp on the other line and a sheepish sounding Sherlock shyly asking me what heat to put the stove on. I patiently told him and listened to him prepare his meal.

A little while later he picked up the phone and sulkily said 'Happy?'

I laughed 'Very Sherlock. Missing me?' I asked sweetly

The snort of derision made its way clearly over the airwaves 'Why should I miss you John, when you can nag me over the phone every day. It's like you never went away.' He replied sarcastically.

'I told you Sherlock, I promised your brother. I am not willing to be exiled to Siberia because you didn't eat your coco pops.'

I could hear the scowl over the phone, really quite an impressive feat. He muttered something indistinguishable.

'I love you too Sherlock.' I smiled sweetly, before hanging up and lying on my back and giggling.

Three weeks ago, Harry had emailed me a bad scan of a wedding invitation, giving me the welcome news that our parents had decided to renew their vows. I immediately hotfooted it up to Northumberland to give my congratulations to them, leaving a whining Sherlock and a trail of indignant texts from everybody in my wake.

My original intention had been to go up, stay a day or two, hug and kiss all the people who said 'You don't remember me do you?' and when I confirmed that I didn't got annoyed and grab as much food as I could. I had never expected to be made to stay for the actual ceremony. Even less to be dragged into a bespoke suit shop and cooed over by my mother for at least three hours as she and all the other middle aged women in my family sobbed that I would be 'Just the perfect best man'.

A few quick phone calls later and it became apparent that I was still responsible for Sherlock, as Mycroft was in Moscow (there were some rather disturbing noises at his end. I decided not to ask.) and Lestrade was still not talking to Sherlock, after the business with the countess of Wessex and the chocolate chastity belt. Unfortunately, Mycroft also managed to get in a threat before he terminated our brief phone call. Nothing new, just the casual 'I – know – where – you – live – if – my – brother – dies – you – have – his – blood – on – your – hands – and – I – will – see – you – run – through – hell' casual crap that he always gets me with, but Mycroft's and my mother's threats combined had resulted in the daily phone call and me begging, on more than one occasion, that Sherlock, eat, stop smoking and stop terrorising Mrs Hudson.

Surprising as it may seem, the above transcripted conversation was a highly mellowed version. Earlier in the week long arrangement, Sherlock's scathing retorts and my family's casual torture had reduced me to tears once. Fortunately, this had a bonus of making Sherlock shut up and stop resisting. He'd even asked me if I was alright the following night.

To be honest, at this point I had no fucking clue as to why I was still in Northumberland. The renewal had been three days ago, but it seemed every time I tried to talk to my mother about leaving, she would mention some engagement or dinner that 'You simply MUST go to John, that lovely Janey girl is going. You know Janey? You used to go to school with her, she had terrible acne...' and so on. It occurred to me never to introduce Mycroft to my mother. Together they would have been a force to be reckoned with.

Presently my phone beeped.

It was a text from Sherlock unsurprisingly, but surprisingly, it wasn't along the lines of 'there's no more bread.', 'can I use the butter for an experiment' or 'I can't reach the newspaper, Fetch!' it was 'We need to get you out of there-SH'

I grinned 'Too right, I'm a prisoner!-JW'

'Indeed. Climb out of your window-SH'

'Original, Sherlock.-JW'

'Oh Come on, there's a tree just outside. With some acrobatics you should just manage it.-SH'

I frowned and turned to the window. He was right. Ah.

'What train did you get?-JW'

A few seconds passed 'Very clever. Now jump.-SH'

'Fine.-JW'

I locked the door and edged the window open. Sherlock was stood there, outside, grinning evilly.

'I feel like a naughty teenage girl!' I whisper-yelled.

'Funny,' he replied 'You don't look much like a naughty teenage girl.'

'Haha.' I snapped 'I can't believe you... ooohh Shhhh...' as a branch broke. I plummeted to the ground but luckily, Sherlock 'Caught' me, by which I mean he got in my way.

Blushing furiously, I climbed off him, to find him still grinning annoyingly as he got to his feet.

'Have you noticed that this is happening a lot more lately.' He said nonchalantly 'One might almost think that you had a fettish...'

I turned away so he couldn't see my fiery blush.

'Alright?' he asked as I brushed myself down and started walking away, giving furtive glances at the house behind me. But I couldn't resist a grin.

'Yeah.' I said 'Piece of cake.'

AN: ahahaha... I don't quite know what the hell was going on there, kinda ran away with me and my brain went along for the ride. Anyways, got any form of opinion? Review and let me know what it is! Seriously. Anything.