"Please! John, where are my cigarettes?" Sherlock shouted, hanging on my back and complaining. In my hands I held a fresh cuppa chamomile tea. Sherlock's blue robe draped haphazardly over his shoulders and the ends fluttered around my waist.

"No, Sherlock," I chided him with a roll of my eyes, "You said you would quit," I reminded Sherlock while taking a sip of my tea. The warmth spread through my body and I relaxed. He wrapped his legs around my waist from behind me and clung tighter. I could feel my tension coming back already.

"Tell me," he whined and nuzzled his face against my neck. His dark curls tickled at my exposed skin. It was roughly three in the morning and we had just gotten back from a case. My sleep habits were crazy so I felt, for the most part awake at this hour.

"No, Sherlock," I repeated myself, leaning forward a bit so Sherlock and I would not fall backwards. At this point, I just wanted to go curl up in bed. Sherlock was acting like a child and continued to whine and complain.

"But John," he held out the 'n' in my name for a long while before letting it drop off. He was silent for a while and I wondered if he had finally given up. His head was resting against the back of my injured shoulder and his nose brushed against my scar with every breath he took. Cocking my head to the side, I saw that he was fast asleep.

"Oh, Sherlock," I shook my head in disbelief and set my now warm tea down. Prying the detective's arms off my waist, I spun around and picked him up in my arms. I moved smoothly so he could not be jostled too much and he could continue to sleep. He was all arms and legs as I struggled to make it to our shared bedroom.

His head lolled gently against the front of my shoulder as I strained to carry him. Once inside the bedroom, I gently set him onto the bed. Walking over the other side, I lay down and snuggled up next to him. We were both above the covers as I was too lazy to place him or myself underneath.

I could hear him softly snoring as I tucked my head under his chin. Yawning, I listened to his rhythmic heartbeat thumping away inside his chest. I smiled as I thought to where I had hidden the cigarettes this time. They were stashed away behind the bookcase in the sitting room. Sherlock would likely never find them there.

"I know where they are John," Sherlock's sleep ridden voice mumbled to me and I chuckled. So maybe he was not so fast asleep. "I just do not want to disappoint you," he whispered to me and placed a kiss on top of my head. I smiled and snuggled in closer to him.

"I know," I breathed into his neck and felt his arms wrap around me. "Night, Sherlock," I yawned out and let my body relax.

"Goodnight, John," Sherlock replied before we were both swept away by our dreams.