Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the wonderful Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss; roll on series 3! :-D
This is a bit loosely based on the circumstances of Holmes from The Devil's Foot. Enjoy!
Sherlock was rushed off his feet, there seemed to be so many baffling, exciting cases these days that it was like Christmas for him.
'Sherlock, don't you think you should take it easy?' John had asked one day.
'Take it easy? With all these baffling mysteries just wanting to be solved? Are you mad John? You know me better than that!' Sherlock replied with glee.
'Yeah! Well, you're only human but hey! Why hould you listen to me? You never do!' John muttered.
'Phew! That was invigorating!'
'Yeah!' John admitted, 'Remind me, how were you sure that the daughter had done it?'
'It was text book really!' Sherlock replied, 'a lot of resentment jealousy towards the step-mother, it was obvious she didn't want her to have anything in the will so…'
'So… she murdered her!'
'Exxaacctly!' Sherlock stopped and breathed in deeply.
'Still that's nothing unsual I suppose; friction between …'
But Sherlock wasn't listening anymore, something was happening to him, something that he couldn't explain, the blood was rushing to his head in an alarming pace and he suddenly felt giddy.
John suddenly turned round,' Christ Sherlock! You look as white as a sheet!' He rushed over, 'C'mon sit down!'
'It-it's nothing John, just a head rush…'
'I'll be the judge of that!' John could see that all the colour had drain from his face and he was beginning to perspire, 'C'mon, sit down.'
'Don't argue with me Sherlock sit down!' Reluctantly, Sherlock obliged, John took his pulse, 'Your pulse is racing.' He looked into his eyes and nodded, 'Right, come on bed!'
'I don't need to…'
'Sherlock… Bed! NOW!'