Oneshots

Hypothermia - A Johnlock story (kinda)

A/n: Just a thing I thought of doing to clear up my writer's block and save time. Post Baskerville, Pre Fall. Enjoy!

oOo

John's POV

It was really cold in this closet.

I could hear the unnamed criminal running around outside looking for me. I had ran to this closet and shut the door so he would walk right by me. I smirked. My plan had worked.

I was standing right behind the closed door. I found the handle and pulled. Nothing. I pushed. Wouldn't budge.

I was locked in.

I turned around and saw why it was so cold. Actually, it was freezing. But, you know, it have to be freezing to keep stuff cold in a freezer.

Yup. Locked in a freezer. This was gonna be fun.

oOo

Sherlock's POV

"John!" I yelled. He had to be here somewhere. I saw the criminal chase him. Suddenly, I heard small noises. I followed my ears to a freezer, where said noise could be heard better.

It was chattering teeth.

I opened the door (it was locked from the inside) and found John.

"John?!"

oOo

John's POV

The door flew open and there stood Sherlock. The moment he saw me, he rushed over.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

My lips didn't really want to move, but I managed to get out, "I don't...feel...so good. And I'm...hungry. And...tired. Is the...room spinning?" I shivered violently.

Sherlock's indescribable eyes softened. "Come on then." He picked me up (bridal style) and carried me out to the street. The slightly chilly air hit me hard, but if I could feel my face I'd probably be blushing tomato red.

"Shouldn't...we...call...Greg?" I managed, still shivering. It was getting harder to speak. That's not good.

"Who?" Sherlock asked, holding me tighter to give me some warmth. He held up an arm and shouted, "TAXI!"

"Lestrade," I clarifed as a taxi drove up.

oOo

Sherlock's POV

So that's his name.

Unimportant information. Delete immediately.

oOo

John's POV

"I'll call him later," Sherlock said. He put me into the taxi when it stopped and climbed in behind me. "221B Baker Street," he announced to the taxi driver. The driver saw me and turned on the heat. Ahh, I thought. Much better. Sherlock turned to me and hugged me tightly. I let out a small mmph sound. He was very warm.

"What're you doing?" I asked into his chest. It was getting easier to speak, I wasn't dizzy, and I was shivering less. The driver smiled. Why was he smiling?

"Erm...body heat," he answered. He didn't sound so sure.

We pulled up at Baker Street. Sherlock threw the driver some notes and helped me out.

"'Ave fun, you two," he called.

Then it clicked. "We're not-" I started, but Sherlock dragged me inside before I could say anything else. He helped me up the stairs and onto the couch. Then he disappeared into his bedroom and came out with a surprisingly clean (and thick) blanket and draped it over me.

"Need anything, John?" He asked.

"Tea, please," I answered. He went into the kitchen, leaving me with my thoughts. Sherlock was being nice all of a sudden. Strange. But I didn't dwell on it. I thought about me instead. Considering all the symptoms, I have mild hypothermia. Could be worse, I thought, pulling a face. That would not have been fun.

The kettle whistled, which snapped me out of my thoughts. A few seconds later, Sherlock came back in, holding a cuppa in his hand. He held it out to me. "Thanks," I said slowly. I sniffed it. "It's not drugged, right?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat down next to me. "I drug you one time," he said. "No, it's not drugged."

I sipped it and the warmth of it filled my body. "This is really good!" I told him.

"Glad you like it," he said. "Do you want to watch that show you like so much?"

"Oi!" I exclaimed, putting down my empty mug. "Doctor Who is a really good show!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. He turned on the telly and put it to Doctor Who. The newest episode was on. It was called Partners in Crime, ironically enough. Sherlock pulled off his coat and scarf and put them away on the coat hanger next to the door. He kicked of his shoes, came back and got under the blanket with me. Sherlock curled his tall frame around mine.

"Body heat?" I asked over the sound of the theme song. (A/n: DOOWEOOOOOOO-OOOEEOOOO...) Was he...blushing? No, it couldn't be. Sherlock Holmes didn't get embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied, staring at the screen. I think he likes Doctor Who more than he let on. We watched the episode is comfortable silence. I felt my eyelids get heavy near the end and fell asleep.

oOo

Sherlock's POV

During the end credits, I felt John's breathing get heaiver. (A/n: No, he fell asleep. Stop it, dirty mind.) I looked over and saw John asleep. He didn't seem to be cold anymore, so I started to scoot away so I could go think. But before I could get anywhere, John grabbed me and pulled me back down to the couch. I underestimated his strength. I couldn't move. Oh well, I thought. I curled back up to John and fell asleep.