The Johnlock Book of One Shots

Time Out (More Pocketlock!)

By request, since the last chapter was a Pocket Jawn now here is... POCKET SHERLOCK! I know it's short, but I do hope you all like it. ALSO! I am HUUUUUUUGE with taking requests for chapters, I tend to get block quite easily nowadays so comment or message me with ideas and I'll write them up, I'll dedicate the chapter to you too!

John had searched up and down the flat for hours now, still he couldn't find him! "Sherlock!" he called loudly. "You're sick, you need to take some medicine and then sleep."

"What if I have been sleeping?!" came a small voices yell. John spun around and still didn't see him. He was close.

"Because I've been listening to you running about for hours now. Now show yourself!" John said impatiently. A small sneeze blew and a very small person was shot from under a pillow on his armchair.

"Aha! Found you." John stated and picked up Sherlock in his hands.

"Oi, put me down! I hate it when you pick me up and look down to me." Sherlock growled in that surprisingly deep voice of his.

John lifted his hands up to his face. "Better?"

"Much." Sherlock toddled over and bit John's nose as hard as he could.

"SHERLOCK!" He roared, dropping Sherlock back on the chair to hold his nose.

"I told you not to pick me up!" Sherlock screamed up at him. John shook his head and grabbed Sherlock by the collar this time.

"Time out, Sherlock." He growled then moved over to the mantle above the fireplace and put Sherlock into the human skull that sat there. Sherlock pouted by curling up just behind one of the eyes.

"Go away." Sherlock sniffed.

"You need to take your medicine if you want to get better." John scolded, pulling out an itty bitty cup and a very small bottle of medicine. He poured in two drops, filling the cup, and passed it over to Sherlock. "Drink or you get a full day of boredom in there."

Sherlock sneered but grabbed the cup in his hands anyways, drinking the whole thing in one gulp before throwing the cup out of the skull and onto the mantle.

"You're being rude."

"I know."

"Be nice."

"Why should I?"

"Oh you are impossible!" John exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air and plopping down into his armchair. Sherlock pouted and turned around to ignore him.

A few hours went by before Sherlock started to stir again. He turned his head around for a moment to see that John was indeed asleep and lying on the sofa. Sherlock shivered, he was awfully cold and John's jumper did look rather warm. He crawled out of Billy's skull and over to the string he had attached to the ground and to the top of the mantle. He grabbed hold and started sliding down. He jumped off when he neared the bottom then strolled over to where John sat. Ever so carefully he crawled up the side of the sofa and up John's arm, not wanting to wake him.

Sherlock curled right up at John's collarbone, pulling his jumper's collar over his little body. He was surrounded by John's scent and warmth as he closed his eyes and fell to sleep as well.