High Functioning Insomniac

Sleeping on a stake out

It was during a stake out, Sherlock hadn't slept for more than two hours the night before and he was starting to feel the effects in the back of the old rover 75, or as John called them 'poor mans jag'.

His eyes darted around but after a while it all became a bit of a blur to him, he was too tired to keep a lookout, luckily John was used to stake outs from his army days, John would point out anything suspicious.

"Sherlock are you alright?" John asked, concern laced in his voice as he studied the dazed face of Mr Holmes. They were less than a foot away from each other and Sherlock could feel the heat radiating off of the army doctor, it made him feel even sleepier.

"Told you, you should have got more sleep last night" John said with a sigh, "come here, I'll keep a look out" John decided, wrapping his arm around Sherlocks shoulders and pulling him so he rested his head on John's shoulder, his hair tickling the doctors neck.

"John what are--" Sherlock broke off with a quiet yawn.

"shh, go sleep" John quietened him, squeezing his shoulder gently and Sherlock was once again greeted with sleep, breathing in the comforting scent of his blogger, he dreamed about a lazy day in the flat just watching a movie with John, he hadn't slept this peacefully in years.

The smell of John somehow found itself in his dreams, a sort of sweet smell, mixing with the fresh smell of mint and parsley that John had used while cooking.

When Sherlock woke he found himself with his face pressed against something warm and soft, he nuzzled it and it smelt like home and all things safe, the smell of coffee in the morning, a whiff of tea in the afternoon. John.

His coat that he had left over the chair was covering up to his chin, the soft material smelling of their flat. Maybe a few hours longer sleep, couldn't hurt could it?. He pressed his nose further into John's stomach and felt the small chuckle that erupted from John's chest, the way his body shook at the action. He felt it vibrate through his own body and he let out a timid giggle.

His own movement drew his attention to the weight that was resting between the top of his thigh and his hip bone, curving around him through the coat, John's hand.

He kept his eyes shut and slowly drifted into that world between sleeping and awake, he could feel John's breathing and pulse but he also couldn't tell what was real and what was his imagination. Perfectly drowsy.

John very gently shook him awake a few hours later, telling him he had seen a car pull outside the building they had been watching, and as Sherlock heaved himself up, coat slipping down onto his own lap, he looked around spotting the car that had pulled up and the man that climbed out.

John called up Greg, informing him on the registration of the car and the details of the man before hanging up. Sherlock checked himself for his gun, patting himself down until he found it in his coat pocket, he took it out carefully, slipping it under the car seat, in reach in case of emergency.

John guided his head back onto his shoulder and let him lie against him, pulling Sherlocks coat so it covered the both of them in the steadily decreasing temperature.

"Good sleep?" John asked brightly, Sherlock nodded, getting lost in the scent that could only be described as John Watson.

"That's good" John said with a smile down at his friend, Sherlock cracked an eye open and smiled lopsided back at John, biting the corner of his lip from the inside.

John just ruffled his hair fondly and they waited for the police to arrive and arrest the money hoarder.

Another case solved, another perfect sleep, there was a pattern in this.