HELLO ALL

So yesterday was my 2nd anniversary of being married to my wonderful husband, and seeing as I've made a point of celebrating things by giving you all extra stuff to read, and it's my 2nd anniversary after all, I'm going to give you TWO chapters!

For those who are wondering; yes, there is a case coming, yes, this bit is pertinent (to an extent. I mean, I really can't give up on the opportunity to have Sherlock messing with John's attempts to be normal). It's coming. I promise. In the meantime, enjoy!

John was beginning to think he'd end up in his swim shorts at Harry's pool when Sherlock stomped into his room the next morning.

"We're going to the bookstore," she said. Her hair was everywhere and she looked slightly manic, and she smelled like yeast. "I need more data."

"Right," John said after a moment. "I'll just put my shoes, on, then. You might, ah, want to get -" he mimed brushing his hair, and Sherlock huffed and swept out of the room.

When she came back, he was pulling on his jacket and her hair was pulled back. "We're taking a taxi," she said in a tone that told him she wouldn't let him argue, and John sighed.

"Fine," he agreed, grabbing his keys, and they headed down the stairs.

The bookstore on Cheapside wasn't large, but the selection wasn't bad, and John found himself browsing as Sherlock berated the poor clerk for not having a larger range of cookbooks to choose from. John picked up a book that looked interesting - Agatha Christie was pretty well-liked, wasn't she? - and then he pulled Sherlock away from the poor clerk, who was red in the face and stuttering.

"We'll look it up online, Sherlock, and order you some books about nothing but baking. Or you could ask one of your contacts if he knows any bakers, they ought to know plenty." No poor retail associate deserved Sherlock on a quest for 'relevant data'.

Sherlock's eyes lit up. "I believe Angelo knows of someone," she said, and turned away from the counter. "Come on, John," she ordered briskly and John rolled his eyes at the clerk.

"Sorry about that," he said, and put his book on the counter. "I'd like this one, please." The clerk nodded with a relieved half-smile.

A moment later, he joined Sherlock, who was tapping her foot next to a cab. "Yes, yes, I know, I took too long," he said, and climbed in. Sherlock made a face and got in next to him, pulling her coat round to fit her snugly.

"What took you so long? Agatha Christie?" she asked, getting a peek at the novel John held in his hands. "It's the fellow with a title."

John looked at her, then frowned, pursing his lips as he looked down at the book, then at her. "How do you know?"

"It's a well-known classic, John, of course I was made to read it in school." Sherlock's voice dripped with the disdain that was plastered all over her face, her nose crinkling at the thought. Bloody posh public schools.

"Well, you didn't have to tell me. Now I can't read it," John protested, tossing the book on the seat in between them. Sherlock brushed off the accusation.

"Of course you can, John, it'll hardly bother your silly little mind."

"Yes, it will, Sherlock, ta for that." John turned to look out the window, eyebrows furrowed, pursing his lips. One hobby. That's all he was asking for; Sherlock knew what was at stake if he didn't find one, and she was being seriously unhelpful. He did not need to be showing his legs to his sister's swimming group. It was a disservice to public sanity.

"Ah, Angelo's! He'll give you free garlic bread if you ask him, John. You're hungry," Sherlock said, jumping out of the car and leaving John to pay the cabbie, which he did, bemoaning the lack of notes in his wallet afterward.

Angelo was extremely willing to help, giving Sherlock his own recipies as well as giving her the names of several London bakeries that would let her in if she mentioned Angelo. "If for no other reason than they're scared of me," he belly-laughed, and John raised an eyebrow as Sherlock smirked. He did enjoy the garlic bread, though not enjoying the "anything for Sherlock's date," comment that accompanied it.

"Come on, John, places to go," Sherlock told him, and strode out the door. John sighed at the thought of her hailing yet another cab, then turned to Angelo.

"Thanks, mate, appreciate it," he said quickly, following Sherlock as the big man beamed after them.

"You keep an eye out for her, you hear?" Angelo shouted out the door, and John sighed, giving out an inward groan as Sherlock frowned, eyes thoughtful.

"Why does everyone assume you look out for me?" Her tone was petulant.

"I've no idea," John said honestly, shrugging under his coat. "Last I checked, you were saving my date's life, not the other way round."

Sherlock smirked. "Yes, you owe me for that, you know."

"I do not!" John protested as Sherlock raised a hand to hail a cab, which slowed for them. "I got the cabbie, remember. If anything, we're even."

Sherlock looked at him, then pursed her lips. "I wasn't going to die from the bloody pill, John."

"Yes, you were; have you never seen The Princess Bride? Besides, I paid for the last taxi, I am paid up."

"Fine, fine, we're even." Sherlock sighed and got in the cab. John groaned and stuck his head in the taxi.

"I'm not paying for you to drag us all over London," he warned her, and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm paying, so get in."

John did.

If you'd ever like a peek at the Daunts John and Sherlock frequent, try the Cheapside location! The url's on my profile.

Spoilers: The book Sherlock spoils is The Secret Adversary, which is one of Agatha Christie's most popular novels.