It had been a long hot day at the clinic. Surprisingly there were still as many sick patients as ever. John walked through the busy streets of London his jacket over his arm. It didn’t say it was going to be this hot this morning on the weather report. Oh well at least he didn’t have to cook this evening, he had a chicken and mushroom Pot Noodle waiting with his name on it literally. He smiled remembering the treat he rarely had as a child, he was really looking forward to it.
Earlier that day…
Sherlock prodded the human stomach he had picked up from Barts. Gladstone put his paws on his leg and wagged his tail hopefully.
“Gladstone this is not your dinner. If you’re good I’ll cook you some sausages later.” Sherlock looked in the fridge, 2 cans of beer and a package of sausages. He slammed the door, how was he supposed to complete his experiment if there was no food in the house. He opened the cupboard to find a solitary Pot Noodle with a label on it.
This belongs to John. If you eat it I won’t kiss you for a week.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow debating. It was in the name of science after all. The rate of decomposition of food in a detached stomach could tell Sherlock so many things. He pulled the lid off the Pot Noodle and put the kettle on.
The flat was empty when John got home. He sighed, although he loved both Sherlock and Gladstone it was always nice to have some time at home alone without them. He hung his coat on the back of the door and made his way into the kitchen. He stopped short when he saw the empty Pot Noodle container on the table.
Sherlock bounded up the stairs with Gladstone trailing merrily behind him. John stood at the entrance of the sitting room fuming with anger.
“You ate my bloody Pot Noodle Sherlock.” John said blocking Sherlock’s way.
“I didn’t eat it, it’s upstairs in your room in a stomach I got from Barts.” Sherlock smiled pushing past John putting the bag in his hand down on the coffee table.
“You put a decomposing stomach in my room? Sherlock that’s going to stink to high hell.” John rubbed his temples, this was just getting worse.
“You don’t use it anymore John.” Sherlock snapped back.
“Sherlock that’s besides the point it’s my room! Look I’ve had a really hard day, I’m too hot, and I was really looking forward to my dinner.” John flopped down in his chair exasperated. Sherlock rummaged through the carrier bag, and presented a new Pot Noodle to John.
“Even though I technically didn’t eat it I wasn’t going to risk you not kissing me for a week.” John smiled and quickly grabbed Sherlock’s hand pulling him down and kissing him.
“You do surprise me sometimes you know.” John said breathless. “What else is in the bag then?” He said, catching the scent of something rather delicious.
“Just a selection from ‘Wan’s’ I thought I might have Chinese tonight as you’re having a Pot Noodle.” Sherlock smirked.
“Oh..” John replied, pulling the cushion out from behind him and hitting Sherlock on the head. “You’re a right git sometimes.”
“I thought you might prefer Chinese.” Sherlock said laughing.