Do You Want To Know A Secret?

8. Happiness Is A Warm Gun

"Been a few weeks of nothing, really, hasn't it?"

"Bed rest still. The woman won't talk to me. John feels bad since he thinks we're in a relationship."

"Are you?"

"I don't... I don't think so. I'm not good with these kinds of things."

"Well maybe you should try to be."

"But... well I can't be in a relationship, it'd ruin my reputation."

"The public wouldn't need to know, Sherlock. Stop thinking so much about your reputation and focus on the things that make you happy. And if that means being a genius detective who also has human emotions and a girlfriend, well then that's that."

"Hm..."

"Maybe try reaching out to her."

"Hm..."

~

Sherlock stumbled about the flat at a rapid speed. As John walked in, he was bombarded by the detective's bathrobe whipping past him once-then again-before he even moved from the doorway.

"Sherlock, what's the bloody rush?"

"A case, John, a case!" Sherlock yelled.

"A case? Hey, you're suppose to be taking it easy. No fast movements or loud noises!" John scolded, but after a minute he couldn't resist asking "What's the case?"

Sherlock stopped and looked at John. "A case. A suitcase."

"A suitcase for a case or you just need a suitcase? Wait, why do you need a suitcase?" He couldn't help but wonder if this was related to their first case, A Study in Pink.

"Because I was thinking as I normally do and suddenly wondered if I had a suitcase. I should. We've done plenty of cases out of the city. I must have one..." Sherlock went about looking again.

"Mm, can't even recall you having one for some reason. Did you use one of mine? Mycroft's, maybe?" John asked, beginning to look around out of curiosity. "Do you need it for something?"

"Yes– no, just. Just planning ahead."

"Predicting the future?" John smirked.

"Mm." Sherlock hummed, then to change the subject, added "work?"

"Yes, I had work." John responded.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "How was it?"

"Oh. Normal day..." John frowned a bit. "Maybe we should find you a case. A small one. I don't think keeping you here like a pet is helping your sanity. Not that you had much to begin with." John was surprised to see Sherlock ignore his comment. "I can phone Lestrade." He added, but still nothing. "Alright, what's bothering you?"

"Me? Nothing." Sherlock went to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge.

"No, not nothing. What– what are you looking for in the fridge?" John watched as Sherlock pulled out the bag of chocolates. He fumbled over to the couch and lazily plopped himself onto it.

"Is this about Irene?" John asked as he followed him and sat on the coffee table.

Sherlock groaned through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Sherlock are you feeling alright? How's your head?"

Another angrier groan.

"I know, I should leave you alone, but I'm your friend, and I am concerned."