A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! So...Benedict Cumberbatch can't say penguins....so I figured, that means Sherlock can't say it either...so that is where this came from....I will include a clip of him saying the word in case you hadn't heard it before. Enjoy<3
"A blade made of ice?" Lestrade sounded skeptical, and John could all but feel the frustration pouring off Sherlock.
"Yes Gavin, a blade of ice."
"Alright, how did he get it there? It would have melted."
"God, you really are an idiot, aren't you?"
"Sherlock!" John warned him, not wanting to have to sit through another row between the pair. Sherlock was reaching the end of his rope on this case. They had been stuck on this one for nearly a month, unable to find the final piece of evidence they needed.
Sherlock had apparently figured it out.
"Fine. It was the zookeeper. He killed the investor when they started talking about the new tourist attractions they were going to put in. The additions would have meant less space for the animals and a decrease in staff, which means the animals would become neglected. He planned for months, forming blade made of ice and stashing it in the pengling enclosure-"
"Why there?"
"If you would allow me to finish." Sherlock snapped, looking irritated at the question. "He stashed it in the Pengwing enclosure because it is cold enough to prevent a blade of ice from melting. Go arrest the zookeeper." Lestrade looked as though he was about to question the detective, but changed his mind and left, pulling out his phone as he did.
When he was gone, John turned to face Sherlock, placing his hands on his hips and pulling him close. They had been dating for nearly a year now, and John had become accustomed to the neediness that often followed a tough case. Sherlock tended to get a little clingy when he was coming off a case.
"So, the zookeeper with an ice blade in the penguin enclosure?" His lover chuckled, winding his long arms around his waist and tucking his face against his neck.
"Basically, yes. The zookeeper with an ice blade in the Pingling enclosure." John grinned, he had suspected, but now it was confirmed.
Sherlock couldn't say 'Penguin'.
"Love?" The detective hummed against his neck, where he had started kissing and sucking softly. "Say 'Penguin' again."
"Really John? I know you like my voice, but that? Definitely one of your weirder kinks."
"Shut up and just say it." Sherlock rolled his eyes and kissed John, no doubt trying to distract him.
"Fine. Pengwing." John let out a bark of laughter, hiding his face in Sherlock's chest. "What? I don't understand. John?"
"You're saying it wrong Love." He glanced up at his lover and felt another bubble of laughter rising in his chest at the confusion on Sherlock's face. "You're saying 'Penguin' wrong Love. You've said it wrong about four times now."
"I-I- what?"
"You've said 'Pengwing', 'Pengling', and I'm pretty sure I heard 'Pingling' once." Sherlock's cheeks had darkened and he was blinking rapidly. John was still giggling as he watched the detective try to process the new information.
"I don't say it wrong."
"Really? Say it then."
"Pengwing- Pen- Pengl- Damn it John!" The doctor laughed and tightened his grip on his lover's hips as he tried to escape. "I don't understand, how could I be saying it wrong?"
"Maybe you just misheard it a few times and it stuck in your head wrong. It's not a big deal Love. For years, I couldn't say 'Massachusetts'. I used to say 'Massatwoshits'." John placed a hand on Sherlock's cheek and turned his face so he could look at his eyes. "Hey, don't be embarrassed Love, its really not a big deal. Alright?" Sherlock nodded, the blush on his cheeks starting to fade. "I love you."
"I love you too." Sherlock's soft smile that always followed those words warmed John's heart.
"Good, now, lets go have a hot bath and then sleep for the next twenty hours."
"Well, maybe the next eighteen hours." At the look of confusion John sent him, Sherlock leaned down and captured his lips in a searing kiss that left the shorter man dizzy and panting.
"Oh."
"God, I love it when you speak such filth John."
"Shut up My Little Penguin." Sherlock glared at him before stalking off, a giggling John following him, begging forgiveness and promising to never use the name again.
He was lying, of course, Sherlock Holmes was never living this one down.
