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John entered the kitchen and set the tin of homemade biscuits on the counter. That was the nice thing about doing odd jobs for Mrs. Lewis; she always gave them homemade goodies as payment.
"Sherlock!" John looked out into the living room "Sherlock?" He headed towards the bedroom, but looked out the living room window first. He smiled when he saw Sherlock sitting outside at the patio table in the garden. He headed out to greet him.
"Afternoon, dear," John said, kissing the top of Sherlock's head.
"Done with your chores, are you?" he teased. Then he sniffed. "Ah, biscuits this time."
John laughed "Yeah, a whole tin."
"Lovely."
John smiled. He looked at the drink sitting on the table. "Lemonade?"
"Hmm... there's plenty left."
"Okay, I'll be right back."
"John?" Sherlock held up his glass, giving John a beseeching look. With a smile, John took his husband's glass into the house with him.
John got himself a glass and filled it with ice from the dispenser in the freezer door. Sure, the lemonade would be cold from being in the fridge, but John believed that lemonade without ice cubes was just wrong. He even used a spoon to fish the tiny remains of the ice cubes from Sherlock's glass and added a few new ones. He then filled their glasses and headed back out to the garden.
"Here you are," John said, handing Sherlock his drink. He sat down, looking out at the garden. "The bees are really buzzing."
"Yes," Sherlock said, "There are a lot of flowers blooming today."
John grinned. "I guess you could say we have a lot of bloomin' flowers."
Sherlock winced. "Puns, John? Do you enjoy sleeping on the couch?"
"Sorry..."
"No, you're not."
John laughed. Then, "Aw, dammit, I didn't bring the biscuits out! We could have had some with the lemonade."
"Eh," said Sherlock with a dismissive gesture. "Biscuits go better with milk, or maybe coffee. The lemonade is fine by itself."
"Okay."
John sipped his drink. Sherlock was right, the wonderful tang of the lemonade didn't need any embellishment to make it better.
"Where did we get this?" asked Sherlock looking at his glass.
"Mr. Jenkins' lemon tree, in return for me treating that finger he broke."
Sherlock laughed. "You've got quite the barter system going, don't you?"
"Look who's talking; did the owner of every shop and restaurant in London owe you a favour?"
"No, only about half..."
They both laughed, remembering free meals and rarely paying full price for clothes or groceries.
"Do you ever miss it?"
"London?"
"Yeah."
Sherlock thought for a moment, then replied, "Every once in a while, when I'm especially bored." He swirled his glass a bit, the ice cubes clinking lightly against the sides. "Then I remember how dull and annoying most people are, and how nice it is not to have to deal with them."
John laughed. "I see."
"Besides," Sherlock continued, "As the saying goes, 'Home is where the heart is'." He smiled fondly at John.
John smiled back, then smirked. "Of course, in your case, it's, 'Holmes is where the heart is'."
Sherlock gave him a withering look. John grinned in faux-innocence. Turning, Sherlock leaned back in his deck chair. "You're definitely sleeping on the couch tonight."