Sherlock (but from a Johnlock POV){ON HOLD}

SIP: ✨Three✨

   "Well, this could be very nice," said John, staring around at the area. Each wall had a different pattern of wallpaper, but it still looked good. "Very nice indeed."

   "Yes, yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely," said Sherlock, looking happily around the room.

   "So I went straight ahead and moved in," he added, at the same time that John said, "Soon as we get all this rubbish cleared out..."

   They both paused.

   "Oh," said John, presumably realizing what the taller man was saying. "So this is all..."

   "Well, obviously, I can, um, straighten things up a bit," Sherlock said hurriedly. He sped across the room, throwing some folders in a box, setting that on the desk, then taking a stack of envelopes and stabbing them into the mantelpiece with a multi-tool knife. He glanced back at John, as if he wanted some kind of praise.

   John just pointed his cane at something on the corner of the mantelpiece. "That's a skull," he said dryly.

   "Friend of mine," said Sherlock. He paused, realizing that might sound bad. "When I say 'friend...'"

   He was interrupted by Mrs Hudson pattering in. She must've followed them in there. She picked up a cup and saucer from the small table beside the armchair facing away from the kitchen - the one Sherlock had decided to be John's - as the detective took off his coat and scarf.

   "What do you think, then, Doctor Watson?" she asked cheerfully. "There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms."

   Sherlock glanced backwards towards John, interested in how the doctor would react to a comment like that.

   John frowned, confused. "Of... of course we'll be needing two."

   "Oh, don't worry, there's all sorts round here." Mrs Hudson smiled at him reassuringly, then lowered her voice to a whisper. "Mrs Turner next door's got married ones."

   Sherlock could feel John's eyes on him, a silent message to step in and confirm they aren't involved in that way, but he said nothing. He wasn't sure why, but he just didn't want to.

   He continued half-heartedly tidying the place up, trying to seem as though he was just oblivious to the entire conversation.

   Mrs Hudson went over to the kitchen and stared at all the chemistry equipment crowding the table. "Oh, Sherlock, the mess you've made." She started trying to straighten things up.

John walked over to one of the armchairs - the one facing away from the kitchen - and sat down, moving the pillow (which had a print of the British flag on it) to the side.

Sherlock could feel his eyes on him as he attempted to clean, and he was a bit proud of himself for guessing the chair John picked.

"I looked you up on the internet last night," said John.

"Oh?" Sherlock turned around to look at him. "Anything interesting?"

"I found your website. 'The Science of Deduction.'"

Sherlock smiled proudly, genuinely glad someone had taken the time to read it. "What'd you think?"

John threw him a look that said plainly, 'you're kidding me, right?'. Sherlock tried not to let it show, but he felt his face falling along with his heart.

"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb." John sounded quite skeptical, yet also slightly astonished.