"Let me guess we're here for a case."
"Of course. How did you know."
John looked around the shop. Colourful posters and pictures of candy covered the wall. Children ran around, probably on sugar highs. Bored looking employees glared at children trying to grab candy from the counter. "Well, we went out for ice cream. You never would do that."
"I like ice cream."
"Thought you didn't like sweet stuff."
"Where did you get that idea."
"Well, your whole personality is kind of dark and well bitter."
"And that would make my taste in foods different how?"
"I don't know."
"Actually, as a matter of fact, I have a major sweet tooth. My mother used to have to hide the sweets from Mycroft and I. Though he was the one who went out and about more cake."
"What's your favourite type of ice cream?"
"I'm extremely particular to the fruit ones. Yours?"
"Chocolate." Sherlock laughed. "What?"
"It sounds like you. So ordinary but everyone's favourite."
"Aw, that's sweet." Sherlock blushed and looked away. John grinned and leaned across the table to wipe some ice cream from the detective's lips. If Sherlock was red before he was now. "You had some ice cream," John whispered.
"Oh ok." They looked away from each other. "I got what I needed," Sherlock said standing up.
"Yeah ok."
"Yeah."
Sherlock walked past John. John followed him. He grabbed Sherlock's arm and pulled him toward him. He kissed Sherlock's cheek and walked past his frozen friend, blushing.