AN: John takes too much time to answer texts.
'Not going home tonight. JW'
'What do you mean you're not coming home tonight?. SH'
'I meant what I wrote. I'm not going to sleep at home tonight. JW'
'I'm on the middle of something. JW'
'Oh, you're going to have intercourse with that Flower woman?. SH'
'Don't ask me that like if you were asking me about the weather and her name is Florence. JW'
'You take too much time to answer my texts. SH'
'Because I don't want her to see me sending texts my flatmate who's asking me if I'm going to shag her tonight. There's some risotto on the fridge. JW'
'Don't know how to use the microwave. SH'
'And that was the stupidest lie ever. You did heat an ear yesterday. JW'
'When you're done will you come?. SH'
'Don't say it like- Never mind. I'll try. SH'
'Come at once if convenient. SH'
'If convenient, come. SH'
'If inconvenient come anyway. SH'
'It could be dangerous. SH'
'Come home, John. SH'
'Will you come?. SH'
'Stop it, Sherlock! Eat that risotto. JW'
'Come home as soon as your needs are filled. SH'
'Are you done? Come home. SH'
'I'm on my way, Sherlock. You and I will have a serious talk once I get home. JW'
John was furious. Angry. Frustrated. This writer doesn't have enough adjectives to describe how mad John Watson was with his friend Sherlock Holmes. His date and potential serious girlfriend read one of Sherlock's text once he went to the loo and finally the doctor's night was completely ruined.
"Sherlock, I can't tell you how mad Florence was when she read all your texts! She thought I was only using her to get a good shag-"
"I thought you were"
"I liked her. She was- she is a very good woman, Sherlock. And everything was going perfectly until your texts ruined it all!"
The detective didn't say anything and in silence, both men made their way to the young man's room and then under his dark, soft and warm duvet.
"I'm sorry, John"
"It's OK- No, you know what? It's not OK, Sherlock. What you did tonight it's not a bit not good. It's a lot not good. Anyway, I'm too tired now so I'm going to sleep. Shall I? We'll talk about this in the morning, shall we?"
Holmes nodded, even when John was already lying over his right shoulder and not looking at him.
And he felt relieved he didn't ask him-
Too late, Holmes.
"Why did you need me here? If there's some point asking"
And like if it was the most easy question of the world, Sherlock answered with the truth.
"Time to sleep. It was time to sleep"
The dark haired man could hear his friend loud and tired sigh and then some quite swearing.
"Sherlock, I'm going to sleep. I can't deal with this tonight"
"Good night, John"
"It's equally not good to wish me a good night either, Sherlock"
The following morning Sherlock managed to to keep John busy with some cases he wanted him to include on his blog and soon, the doctor forgot everything about his ruined date with Florence and all those texts Sherlock had sent him had mysteriously been deleted from his phone.