17Authors Notes: Hi guys! So this is a short story co-written with the wonderful and ever funny Random Ruth. (go check out her stuff!) I wrote the odd numbered chapters and she wrote the even ones. She challenged me to start with the word "scone." And here is the result! The title will become clear a little later! Enjoy.
Chapter One: The Question of Brunch
"Scone?"
John slowly looked up from his laptop, a quizzical look on his face. His gaze fell on the plate which was being held under his nose. There were three buttered cherry scones, which looked very tempting. John's quizzical look turned to a suspicious frown as he looked up at the man who was holding the plate. Said man flashed a small quick smile which instantly roused John's suspicions.
"Are they drugged?" he asked simply.
"Oh come on John! That was only the once," Sherlock replied looking genuinely irritated.
"What's wrong with them?" John continued, not in the least bit convinced.
"Nothing, why does there have to be something wrong with them?" Sherlock asked innocently.
"Because you never make food, of any kind… Hell, you don't even eat! Why start now?"
"I am offended by your suspicious nature, John Watson!" Sherlock said matter-of-factly and moved to his armchair opposite, plate still in hand. John did not reply but went back to his blog. Silence ensued. After about five minutes John peeked over his laptop at Sherlock. He was staring at the scones with a frown on his face, apparently deep in thought. He looked frustrated.
"Trying to get them to confess?" John asked lightly, a small smile spreading across his face. The look he received from Sherlock's piercing eyes quickly made it vanish. John sighed heavily. "Look, Sherlock, the last time you made something for me to consume, it was because you had drugged it, or believed you had… Do you blame me for being suspicious? Why did you prepare the scones?" Sherlock sniffed a little and glanced the other way, sulking a bit before answering.
"You're hungry."
"How do you know that?" John asked, but just as he did, his stomach gave him away and let out a grumble. Sherlock smirked triumphantly.
"You haven't eaten today and it's half eleven, obviously you are hungry, John. And I believe it is making you grumpy." Sherlock added the last part with a sly look. John pulled a face.
"Fine! On one condition."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow in question. "You eat one as well, you haven't eaten either."
"I don't need to eat John," Sherlock whined like a five year old girl. John gave a bark of laughter, to which Sherlock looked down at the plate sulkily. He picked up a scone and offered the plate to John. John closed his laptop and took a scone as well, narrowing his eyes at it despite himself. "On the count of three, we eat," Sherlock declared as if it were a duel to the death, not brunch.
"One," Sherlock started.
"Two," John continued, holding the other man's gaze.
"Three!" they both said together.
Then the doorbell rang.
