Matilda's Drabble Thread II (Sherlock)

[ID2006]

“What did you do?” Sherlock’s said from the doorway, his eyes fixed on John.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Then why is she crying?” he demanded.

“What happened to giving us privacy while I examined her?” John asked, standing up.

“Since when do doctor’s make their patients cry?”

“I didn’t make her cry. She just started crying.”

“You must have done something to—”

Um. Yeah. Totally. The dynamics of the two of them, you've got them.

And then the last one, Sherlock all "If I was normal, what would I do?" Because of course he knows he's not normal. He's totally out of depth but he's trying and it's adorable! I love it!!!

Yeah, all of this. I love protective Sherlock. And I love how you described him as an anxious retriever.

[matilda3948]

Yeah, all of this. I love protective Sherlock. And I love how you described him as an anxious retriever.

He may struggle with sentiment, but he's all about ownership and I like to think he views Molly as "his." Um, PS: LOVE that you've started your own thread

Okay, now for some sick Sherlock set during "His Last Vow" so spoilers.

#70 Listless

John truly had no idea how to feel. His life had been completely upended in the last few days. After slipping the hospital, revealing Mary's (should he even call her that anymore?) lies, Sherlock all but died from his injury...again. John was camped out at his bedside again. It had been two days since he was readmitted to the hospital and John had barely left his side, partially because he was worried and partially because he didn't know if he could face going home to...her. He looked up and saw Sherlock was awake, studying him, his eyes sharp despite the medications, blood loss, and stress of the last several days. John didn't want to be the one who broke the silence but as he looked at his friend's listless body and reviewed what had put him there, he felt a lump in his throat. He ran a tired hand over his face and sighed.

"You are an idiot," John said, his voice betraying his emotion. He expected some sort of sarcastic response and was worried when one was not immediate forthcoming. "You could have died."

"Yes," Sherlock said. The direct, whispered way he said it only fueled John's building rage.

"What were you thinking? No, don't answer that. I don't care." He stood up from his chair and stalked over to the window. "You had a gunshot wound and you just...How long had your pulse been racing back at Baker Street before you said anything? Would you have just sat in that chair and bled out while...while she? Dammit Sherlock!" John collapsed back in his chair. He was spent: angry and confused and exhausted. Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Have you seen her?"

"Don't," John warned. "Not one word." He snatched Sherlock's chart of the foot of the bed and began reviewing the other doctor's notes. "Sherlock, this says you have an upper respiratory infection," he said, his anger replaced with concern.

"Just a slight cold."

"Yes, that's what an upper respiratory infection is. Why didn't you say something?"

"I was waiting for you to finish seething." There was the sarcasm. Now that he'd uttered a couple of complete sentences John could definitely hear the congestion and hoarseness in his friend's voice.

#71 Pressure

"You should never have left the hospital," John said, grabbing a temporal thermometer and swiping it across Sherlock's forehead. He frowned when he noted the slightly elevated temperature.

"John, I needed to--"

"Shut up."

"I find it quite unfair that only one of us gets to participate in this conversation," Sherlock said.

"Too bad. When you're recovering from a...from an injury as severe as yours any small infection can be dangerous."

"Bit dramatic, don't you think?"

"Dramatic?" John exploded. "Dramatic? You of all people are going to accuse me of--"

HhNTschh! The sneeze and the following groan cut off John's tirade. Sherlock pressed a hand to his upper abdomen and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Bless you," John said. A moment later Sherlock lifted his head. What very little color he had was gone; the grey hue to his skin made John's stomach turn. "You okay?" he asked.

"Fine," he said with a sniff. “It just hhh…hurts whed…” he pressed his lips together and pressed his wrist to his nose. He sniffed twice before losing the battle to hold back the sneeze. hhhNGSHHoo! He curled in on himself and grit his teeth in pain. “Whed I do that,” he said, slightly out of breath.

“Bless you. Here,” John said, handing him a couple tissues. Sherlock froze mid-reach and a look of apprehension crossed his face. Apprehension quickly turned to dread as his breath began to hitch. John handed him the tissues then placed his hands on Sherlock’s injured abdomen. He pressed down, not hard enough to hurt, but to hopefully immobilize the muscle while his friend sneezed.

“Hahh hhh…harder.” John increased the pressure, feeling Sherlock’s breathing getting more and more erratic. hhehh Hehh hhhNSSHHooo! hehhsntsshhhoo!

John felt the muscles clench under his hand. Hehh HEH HehhNGsschhooo! Sherlock blew his nose and collapsed back against his pillows, taking a few slow deep breaths.

“Bless you,” John said, finally withdrawing his hand and pulling the blankets up over his friend again.

“Thank you, John.”

[cally]

“Bless you. Here,” John said, handing him a couple tissues. Sherlock froze mid-reach and a look of apprehension crossed his face. Apprehension quickly turned to dread as his breath began to hitch. John handed him the tissues then placed his hands on Sherlock’s injured abdomen. He pressed down, not hard enough to hurt, but to hopefully immobilize the muscle while his friend sneezed.

“Hahh hhh…harder.” John increased the pressure, feeling Sherlock’s breathing getting more and more erratic. hhehh Hehh hhhNSSHHooo! hehhsntsshhhoo!

John felt the muscles clench under his hand. Hehh HEH HehhNGsschhooo! Sherlock blew his nose and collapsed back against his pillows, taking a few slow deep breaths.

This section. THIS section. Wow. I, I honestly immmm, wow. Absolutely perfect!

[VoOs]

It hurts.

Sherlock being in pain from his sneezing is kind of, sort of, pretty damn hot, but it still hurts.

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

What cally said.

[ID2006]

What cally said.

Exactly what I was thinking.

[matilda3948]

Thank you all soooo much!! It does hurt, in the best possible way

#31 Hold Back

John came back very early the next morning, having taken just enough time to shower, shave, and change into fresh clothes. He found Sherlock in a restless sleep, his large, pale hand resting over his injured torso. John reviewed his chart again, looking over the newest notes from the hospital staff.

“You went to Baker Street instead of your flat to shower.”

“See you’re awake,” John said. “You sound terrible. How are you feeling?”

“Bored.” He sniffed and brought a curled finger up under his nose. Hehh. “The bullet wound I cad deal with, but hehh Ehh…” Sherlock pinched his nose between his slender thumb and forefinger, successfully holding back the sneeze. “But this cold is utterly ridiculous.”

“Should have thought of that before busting out the hospital and running around London.”

“Are we really going to revisit this again?” Sherlock asked. “Your time would better spent convincing the doctors to send me home.”

“No.”

“John—”

“You’re still running a fever which means you’re still fighting an infection. It’s not up for debate until your temperature is back to normal for at least 24 hours.” Sherlock didn’t argue but only because he had more pressing matters at hand. He was back to rubbing, scrunching, pinching his nose—doing anything he could to hold back a sneeze.

“Hehh hhh…John?”

“It’s okay.” John pressed his hands down on Sherlock’s abdomen, bracing him for the inevitable.

Ehh Hehh…hhhSNTschh! He kept his hands poised over his nose and mouth. John kept pressure on his muscles. HehhGNSHHoo! HhhSNGTsshoo! HehhAHHSNCHHooo! Despite his efforts, John felt Sherlock’s damaged muscles spasm.

“Bless you,” John said. A slight sheen of sweat broke out across Sherlock’s face and his forehead was marred with stress lines.

#60 Sore

HehhNTSCHH! hhSNTCHHooo! His muscles twitched and tightened as the sneezes continued to torment Sherlock’s nose. He always seemed to be prone to sneezing when he was ill. While it was always annoying, it was currently excruciating even with John’s hands bracing his injury. hehh Hehh…HehhSNCHHoo!

“Bless you.” Sherlock only nodded and focused on breathing through the pain. His upper abdomen was tight and cramped. John began to work his fingers in slow circles, massaging the sore muscles and getting them to gradually release. He felt his friend’s breathing even out as the worst of the cramps passed, but John just continued to rub his hands across Sherlock’s skin, stopping just below where the bandages covered the bullet wound. After several more minutes John finally felt the muscles fully release. “Feel better?” John asked, but Sherlock was already asleep.

John stepped outside and asked one of the nurses for a heating pad. He put it on Sherlock’s stomach and then resumed his post at his friend’s bedside.

[MoonDuck]

What cally said.

Exactly what I was thinking.

Me too.

[cally]

And you've killed me. This forum will be the death of me, I swear.

Sherlock, pleading for John's help? /faints

[ID2006]

Yeah, think I just died... in a good way. John helping Sherlock as he sneezes and S in pain and John kneading some of it away. I can feel his muscles tense in my head and the images are lovely. Oh how I love fics, all the pleasure none of the guilt.

[matilda3948]

Well, since I am getting my ass kicked by allergies today, I've decided to spread the misery to our favorite fictional characters. As always, thank you for ready and leaving your sweet comments

#92 Office

Are you still at your office? —Greg L

Yeah. Everything okay? –JW

Feeling off. Could I stop by? –Greg L

Of course. –JW

John sent the rest of his staff home for the night and waited for the detective inspector. When the man in question came into the clinic John couldn’t help but grimace. Greg’s eyes were red and swollen, watering uncontrollably, he had a handkerchief in his hand and was so stuffy he had to breathe through his mouth.

“Thags for waiting for be. Johd. I hehh…” he trailed off and brought a well-used handkerchief up to his face. Huhh HuhhRAHHHSSCHHOO! HuhhraahhhSSSCHHOOOO!

“Bless you.” John patted Lestrade on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s see what’s going on with you.” He led Greg back to an exam room and starting asking questions. “When did you start feeling like this?”

“Started od Tuesday and it’s beed getting worse every day. Today has beed the worse by far.” As if to underscore his point, he released a pair of enormous sneezes. HehRUHHSTSCHHHooo! huhhRAAHHHSTSSCHHOOOO!

“Bless you. So, obviously sneezing and congestion.” Greg nodded.

“By eyes are killing me. They itch and burn and water constantly.” John gave him a sympathetic smile and grabbed a thermometer. A quick check revealed no fever. Next John looked at his ears and throat. As he was getting ready to check his eyes, Greg shook his head and turned his head. HuhhAHHHSHHHHooo! HuhhRAHHHssshhooo!

“Bless you,” John said, beginning to sound like a broken record. He grabbed some tissues and handed them to the miserable, silver-haired man.

“Thag you.” After blowing his nose and drying his eyes, Greg was ready to let John resume his exam. However, the moment John shone a light in his eyes Lestrade twisted away HuhhRAHHHSHHHooo! HuhhAHHHKTSCHHOOOO!

“Sorry,” John said. “Did you know you’re a photic sneezer?”

“A what?” Greg asked, still sniffling into a handful of tissues.

“You sneeze when exposed to a sudden bright light. Let me try again.” This time, John let the light barely enter his patient’s field of vision, giving his sensitive eyes a moment to adjust before shining it in his eye more directly. Once he finished his exam, John clicked off the light and crossed his arms. “Well, you definitely have hayfever.”

“How did that happen?”

“It can come on at any point in a person’s life,” John said, grabbing his prescription pad. “The good news is that we can get it under control, but it’s likely something you’ll have to deal with every spring.”

huhhRAHHHSSCHHOOO!! HuhhAHHHRSCHHOOOO!

“Bless you.”

#96 Purr

Sherlock made quick work of picking the lock to the missing woman’s house and he and John made their way inside. Sherlock moved through the rooms methodically, mentally cataloguing clues as he went. John went to the woman’s kitchen and began rifling through her refrigerator.

“Milk and eggs are still fresh. She couldn’t have been gone long,” John said. At that moment a large orange cat jumped up on the kitchen counter. John backed up and made a hissing noise to try and scare the cat away, but she only purred and moved closer. “Oh, please just go away,” John mumbled, already feeling his eyes starting to water. A few seconds later: hehhh…huhh Huhhngtschhhooo! HuhhPTSCHHoooo! The cat flicked her tail in the air and pursued John no matter where he went in the house. His eyes were on fire and tears would occasionally drip from the corners. huhhEHHHgnstchhhooo! John pressed his wrist to his nose. “Sherlock? Can we leave now?” huhh…hehh HhhGNSCHHHooo! Sherlock popped out from around the corner.

“So the cat’s still alive. Means she couldn’t have been gone more than four days.”

#25 Handkerchief

John heard the telltale signs from the living room where he was drinking his morning tea and reading the paper. Nose blowing, followed by three wet, rapid sneezes, and more nose blowing. Hayfever season had arrived at Baker Street. Next he heard slamming and swearing—also typical Sherlock hayfever symptoms. John laughed and went to fix the consulting detective a cup of tea with a side of antihistamine.

HehhAHHtsschhh! Ehhktsschhooo! ktsschhOOOO!

"Bless you." John turned to find Sherlock standing in the doorway, handkerchief hovering a few inches from his face awaiting another sneeze. EhhTsschhooo! KTSSCHHHoo! Henntsschhooo! Or three. "Bless you again. Pretty bad today, then?" Sherlock sniffed and glared at John.

"What was your first clue?" John snickered. Sherlock flopped in his chair and rubbed at his eyes which had taken on a rather impressive red hue. He was also sniffling almost constantly, eventually just tipping his head back trying to enlist gravity's help.

"Here," John said, putting tea and pills down next to him.

"John we have this conversation every spring. I cannot think when I take antihistamines."

"And every spring you eventually cave and take them after spending three days in misery for absolutely no good reason." The scathing retort died on Sherlock's tongue as he felt his nose began to prickle again. He said up straight already sniffling like mad. His long, delicate fingers clutched the handkerchief to his quivering nose. Deep creases settled between his eyebrows and his chest expanded with several quick gasps. He even sneezed with a certain element of grace. His whole body rolling forward towards his knees and then receding—not unlike a wave breaking onshore. HehhNKsschhooo!! KTSHHCHH! HehhSKSSHHoo!

"Bless you," John said. Sherlock waived a hand in his general direction, another fit of sneezes already bearing down on him. EhhNTSCHHoo! TsschhOOO! HehhAHHKTSSSCHHOOO!

#33 Harsh

John frowned. He had nothing but sympathy for his friend in that moment. Like many of his patients, when his hayfever flared up, it could be severe. He watched Sherlock kneed his itchy eyes as he groaned and scrunched down in his chair. Hehh…Ehh…he curled a finger under his nose, but John knew it would only forestall the inevitable. When Sherlock’s allergies were in full bloom there was no way to restrain his sneezes—they were harsh, desperate, and overwhelming.

hhKTSSHHooo! HehhTSSSCHHOOO! HehAHHsshhschhhooo!

“Bless you.”

“Bloody British spring!” he growled, springing up and standing on the sofa, surveying the room as though it held some sort of answer to his affliction. “Bored!” he shouted.

“Would you get down? You’re going break you neck,” John said.

“John, I’ve spent countless hours standing on this sofa. It’s as though I’m standing on solid ground.” His voice trailed off as his allergy-afflicted nose once again flared, twitched, and sneezed.

HehhTSCHHoo! KTSSSHHooo! EhhSSCHOOOO! He lost his footing on the second sneeze and by the third he bounced from the sofa to the floor.

“Bless you, you idiot.”

[cally]

Oh these, once again are wonderful. Love the Lestrade one. I hope you're feeling better. x

[Spoo]

*Giggles gleefully*

I love how we all seem to go through themes each week. This week's theme is Greg developing hayfever (which is A-okay in my book). Just means I'll have to experiment with that lovely concept at some point~

[Dusty15]

LOVE this description of a Sherlock sneeze:

He even sneezed with a certain element of grace. His whole body rolling forward towards his knees and then receding—not unlike a wave breaking onshore.

Beautiful!

[VoOs]

Hnngh, hayfever-y Sherlock is what dreams are made of. And he would have a graceful sneeze, wouldn't he? *swoon* Omnomnom.. <3

[cally]

*Giggles gleefully*

I love how we all seem to go through themes each week. This week's theme is Greg developing hayfever (which is A-okay in my book). Just means I'll have to experiment with that lovely concept at some point~

We should have a weekly theme for Mystrade.

Or is that just too evil?

[AngelEyes]

Next he heard slamming and swearing—also typical Sherlock hayfever symptoms.

I would believe this. LOL.

“John, I’ve spent countless hours standing on this sofa. It’s as though I’m standing on solid ground.” His voice trailed off as his allergy-afflicted nose once again flared, twitched, and sneezed.

HehhTSCHHoo! KTSSSHHooo! EhhSSCHOOOO! He lost his footing on the second sneeze and by the third he bounced from the sofa to the floor.

“Bless you, you idiot.”

LOL. Made me giggle!

[stephab13]

I just wanted to add my appreciation to this post. These are incredible!!!

[matilda3948]

Getting the cally/Spoo/Dusty/VoOs/AngelEyes seal of Sherlock Approval means a lot. You all are delightful to write for. And a big thank you to everyone who reads and comments on this thread!!

Umm...so I decided it was time to make Irene one of us. Hope it works

#85 Sniff

He groaned and rolled his eyes when he came into the flat and found the Woman sitting on his sofa.

“You’re not happy to see me?” Irene asked, standing up and slowly pulling his scarf off.

“What do you want?”

“I’ve got a little problem and I need your help.”

“Need I remind you how much trouble your last ‘little problem’ caused me?” Sherlock asked sniffling slightly.

“But you’re the only person smart enough to crack a five digit sequence code on that portable safe I brought with me,” she said as she began unbuttoning his overcoat. He smacked her hands away.

“Of course I am, but I’m afraid I have to decline your offer to be your accomplice.” He sniffled again and pressed his index finger to the underside of his nose.

“That doesn’t sound like the Sherlock Holmes I know,” Irene murmured. He suddenly raised his arm and sneezed into the crook of his arm. hhhGNTCHH! HuhhNKTCHH! “God bless you. Neither does that.” Sherlock raised his head and sniffled wetly. “You’re ill,” Irene said. He noted the way one of her eyebrows raised and a small smile pulled at her lips as she took in his appearance.

#29 Kink

“Yes, I have a cold which is why I would very much appreciate it if you took your probable felony and got out of my flat,” he said, sinking down onto the sofa. Irene watched him rub his nose against his wrist and try to fight off another sneeze. She studied the little wrinkle across the bridge of his nose, the crease between his eyebrows, and the way his jaw went slack as his breath hitched. Hehh huhhehh…HuhhKNTchh! hhhSTSCHHoo!

“Bless you!” she said. “I’ll make you some tea while you look at my safe.”

“I’b dot cracking that safe,” he called after her.

**

A few minutes later Irene was sitting next to Sherlock as he nursed a cup of tea. She’d found a box of tissues in the bathroom and was holding them on her lap, Sherlock occasionally reaching over and grabbing a couple to stem his runny nose.

It was hard to tell who noticed the impending sneeze first. Irene had been watching for the slightest twitch of his nose or unusual intake of breath. As soon as the tickle registered for Sherlock, he set his teacup down and reached over to get a tissue. Irene pulled the box just out of his reach. He glared at her as best he could in light of the building sneeze.

“Hehh…huhh woman…what hahh hhhGSSCHHoo! huhhNGSSHHooo!” He was forced to sneeze into his hands at the last second. Irene handed him a couple tissues and smiled coyly.

“Aww, God bless you, Sherlock.” After blowing his nose, Sherlock studied Irene: Pupils dilated, faint blush, increased breathing.

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“You’ve got a kink for everything, don’t you?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said with a grin. Irene knew better than to try and hide her interest from Sherlock, but given everything else she did, she had no shame about this unusual little kink of hers. After all, she spent her life indulging other people’s tastes, why not treat herself?

hhhNTSCHH! HuhhTSCHHoo! He grabbed a couple tissues from the box, brushing her hand as he did so. Irene bit her lip as she watched his long fingers bring the tissues up to his pink nose. HuhhEHHNSSCHHoo! hhhTSSCHH! HuhhTSCHooo! Hehh HuhhKTSCHHoo! He groaned and blew his nose. Irene placed on hand on Sherlock’s thigh and brought her lips close to his ear.

“God bless you, poor dear. Despite your cold, I would still have you right here, right now.”

“You mean because of it.”

“I could still make you beg for mercy,” she teased.

“So could I it seems,” Sherlock said with a sniffle. He picked up the safe, punched in a series of numbers and tossed it to Irene as soon as it clicked open.

[cally]

Getting the cally/Spoo/Dusty/VoOs/AngelEyes seal of Sherlock Approval means a lot. You all are delightful to write for. And a big thank you to everyone who reads and comments on this thread!!

Umm...so I decided it was time to make Irene one of us. Hope it works

That was the understatement of the century! Wow!

When she whispers in his ear . . .

*fans self*

[VoOs]

Ohohoho. I've wanted to read something fetishist!Irene for a long time, and this hit the spot juuuuust perfectly.

[matilda3948]

Ohohoho. I've wanted to read something fetishist!Irene for a long time, and this hit the spot juuuuust perfectly.

Isn't she such a deliciously unapologetic sex kitten, tiger, kraken? May have to do more with Irene...

[tma]

OMG.....

just YUM!!

“You’ve got a kink for everything, don’t you?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said with a grin. Irene knew better than to try and hide her interest from Sherlock, but given everything else she did, she had no shame about this unusual little kink of hers. After all, she spent her life indulging other people’s tastes, why not treat herself?

hhhNTSCHH! HuhhTSCHHoo! He grabbed a couple tissues from the box, brushing her hand as he did so. Irene bit her lip as she watched his long fingers bring the tissues up to his pink nose. HuhhEHHNSSCHHoo! hhhTSSCHH! HuhhTSCHooo! Hehh HuhhKTSCHHoo! He groaned and blew his nose. Irene placed on hand on Sherlock’s thigh and brought her lips close to his ear.

“God bless you, poor dear. Despite your cold, I would still have you right here, right now.”

“You mean because of it.”

“I could still make you beg for mercy,” she teased.

“So could I it seems,” Sherlock said

^ killed me so much *grins*

Love your drabbles

[MoonDuck]

Irene... that worked out so amazingly. I love this thread so much.

[matilda3948]

I'm soooo glad you all like fetishy Irene. I just had to play with them some more They're too fun! Too tired to proofread; hope there aren't too many typos.

#42 Stare

“Clever boy,” she said, opening the safe. “Don’t you want to know what’s inside?”

“I’d rather maintain plausible deniability when you get arrested,” he said, walking to the door. “Now kindly show yourself out so I can go to bed.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Woman,” he growled and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll take care of you,” Irene said.

“I’m sure you’d love that.”

“Get your mind of out the gutter,” she said. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sniffled. He truly didn’t feel well enough to spar with Irene Adler. “I am capable of putting my own…interests…on hold when the occasion calls for it. In fact, I’m quite an expert.”

“You’re staring at my nose,” Sherlock said. She smirked.

“Can you blame me?”

Hehh Huhh…hhhNGTSCHHoo!

“Bless you, Sherlock.”

“At least bake yourself useful,” he said, nodding towards the tissues. huhhNTSSHHooo!

“Bless you.” Irene handed him a few tissues and stepped back while he blew his nose. “I am sorry you’re sick,” she said. Sherlock studied her with slightly feverish eyes trying to figure out both her angle and his next move. As though she could read his mind, she said, “I’m not playing you.”

“You’re always playing someone,” Sherlock said. Irene smiled and kissed his forehead, then the tip of his nose.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she said. “You get into bed, let me make you some tea, and if you really want me to leave after that, I will.” He was already considering the likelihood that she would drug his tea, rob his flat, hack his laptop, but his head hurt too much. He raised the balled up mess of tissues to his nose and sneezed an exhausted hhhTSSHHHooo!

“Fide,” he said, trudging up the stairs.

#43 Contagious

When Irene came into his bedroom she found Sherlock in flannel pants and a sweatshirt. He was sniffling almost constantly and texting frantically on his phone.

“God, you have never looked sexier,” Irene said from the doorway. He rolled his eyes.

“John says not to steal anything while you’re here.”

“He’ll be back on Tuesday, right?” she asked, sitting down on the bed.

“You already knew that,” he said.

“Tell John I said hi and that I’m looking after you.”

“He says that’s what makes him nervous,” Sherlock said. He dropped his phone on the bed and took the tea from her. He looked at it, smelled it (not that he could smell much), stuck his finger in and tasted it.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” she snapped and swallowed a mouthful of tea. Satisfied that she hadn’t slipped him something, Sherlock took a couple sips of tea, letting the warm liquid soothe his throat. Irene saw his nose twitch and grabbed a couple tissues for him. His breath hitched twice and she held the tissues out to him.

Hehh hehUHH…HEHHtsschh! Huhhtsschhooo! HuhhKTSSHHooo!

“Bless you,” she said.

hehh hhhKTSSHCHHoo! huhEHHTSSCHHooo! huhhHIHHTSSHHHoo!

“Oh, bless you poor dear,” she whispered in his ear. He blew his nose and sighed.

“You kndow I’b probably horribly contagious,” he said.

“Worth it,” she said with a wink.

“At least you’re not boring.” A shiver ran through his body and he yawned into his fist.

“Sleep, Sherlock,” she said. “What time did you promise to call John and confirm that I haven’t gotten you into some sort of trouble?”

“Eight.” He yawned again and stretched out in the bed.

“I’ll wake you at 7:30.” Irene kicked her shoes off and curled up on the bed next to him. She ran her long, manicured fingers through his hair. Despite his initial apprehension, he did have to concede that she might not be playing some kind of game. “You’re going to sneeze,” she said quietly, handing him a tissue.

hehNTSHHoo! hhsschoooo! tsschhooo! huhh…hehh…Hehhuhh…

Irene watched his face contort with the teasing itch. Hehh…Huhh Finally she had mercy on him and ran her fingernail across the bridge of his nose. Hehh huhhITSSCHHHooo! She kissed his temple.

“Bless you, my poor sneezy Sherlock.”