Chapter Text
“I’m off out, Sherlock,” John says, pulling on his battered jacket. “D’you need anything bringing in?”
Sherlock – sprawled along the sofa in pyjama trousers and dressing-gown, bare foot absently tapping on the carpet, intent on the laptop balanced on his stomach – doesn’t answer.
“Sherlock?”
Still no answer.
“Earth to Sherlock.” John starts back across the sitting-room. “Oi, is that my computer? Do we need to have that conversation about boundaries again?”
Finally, when he’s practically looming over the sofa, Sherlock looks up at him. “Was that another one of your snide comments about astronomy?” he inquires, ignoring John’s questions.
John promptly forgets he asked them, because from here he can see the laptop screen, which is filled with—
“Sherlock! What the hell are you looking at those for?”
No reply.
“Please tell me they’re for a case.” John looks determinedly the other way. Too late, though – he’s already starting to feel panicky, short of breath. “One I’m not going to be involved in at all.”
The laptop shuts with a click; Sherlock lunges up from the sofa and peers down at John. “Not good?” he asks. He sounds apologetic, for Sherlock.
“No,” John says. “Sherlock, you deduced Afghanistan after five seconds—”
“Two.”
“—but it doesn’t occur to you that graphic photos of landmine victims might disturb me a bit?”