This better be quite the case.
"Leighton Wrights, a retired corporal of the navy. Mycroft believe this man is going to cross his country after he's fought for it?" John inquired. His face warped with strong disgust as he adjusts himself in the backseat of the cab. "It's not uncommon, John. Though, I can see where you'd be bias." Sherlock scans over the golden haired man; John feels as though he's being read like a book. A shutter creeps down his spine with the thought and he has to inhale to ease the rush.
"You never said where we were going." John peers out the window for any indication of what street they're on. Sherlock leans his head back and closes his eyes. "We're going to a place." "Which place?" "A place important to this case. Now, shut up." He murmurs and John obliges him. It was nice to be out of the flat anyway. John follows Sherlock's example and relaxes himself with shut eyes. Listening to the flow of running motor and honking horns that all, somehow, go together in harmony until he falls asleep.
"John," Sherlock calls in his deep eerie voice, dragging out John's one syllable name. The irresistible tone lulls John back into a light sleep, feeling quite comfortable. "John, we're here." The short blond, pries his eyes open, takes in his surroundings, and begins to let everything register. "I tried to be polite. John, get off of me." John pushes himself off of his side to sit up right, now realizing that he was leaning pressed into Sherlock's chest for support. Yawning, John follows Sherlock out of the cab. "Now will you tell me where we are?" Sherlock gives John a trivial look that reads as 'Observe, John. Observe.' With John's blank expression; Sherlock gives up and informs him th Eat they are at Leighton's house. "That's a bad idea, Sherlock." John shakes his head, quickening his pace to match Sherlock's long stride. "Why I didn't tell you until we were here." Sherlock smirks slightly.
"Do you even have plan? Or are we just going to run into a former navy's home and just hope for the best?" Sherlock stops in the middle of the street and locks eyes with John. Watching every detail in his blue orbs, shimmering with grey rimmed pupils, was other worldly.
Sherlock sees John's pupils dilate and, with a vague curiosity, wonders where John's extraordinary mind is at. Then without warning, Sherlock spins around and continues forward toward the door. Sherlock, the things I do for you. John sighs, a smile ghosting across his face.
John follows behind Sherlock, frustrated and infatuated with the world's only consulting detective.
Annnnnnd chapter tres! Hope you liked it! Comment! Love ya'll! Oh and the chapters will probably get longer. (Sorry, for those who like the shortness of the chapters.)
P.s: Sorry there was this one line that bothered me so I took it down and fixed it.