From “The Importance of Being (Im)patient” by Qurt http://archiveofourown.org/works/631134#main
Wednesday finds Sherlock in the kitchen rummaging through the cupboard above the sink, trying to navigate his way through the many mugs and cups on the shelves whilst making sure he doesn’t accidentally knock the British Isle motif tea set (saved for important events only, such as meetings with slick haired consulting criminals) to the floor with his elbows.
This exact scene is the one that greets John as he enters from the bedroom, towel slung low over his hips and hair still dripping over his shoulders.
“Ah John! There you are!” Sherlock exclaims, turning his head slightly to look back over his shoulder. “Where is the raspberry leaf tea?”
John’s nose scrunches at the question and his eyes narrow slightly. “Raspberry leaf tea? We don’t have any. Despite what you may think Sherlock I’m not some sort of tea connoisseur, all we have is plain old PG tips.”
“Then what is this box of camomile for then?” Sherlock asks, holding out said box of camomile tea as he turns to face John, eyebrow raised.
“That is for when you’re ill with the flu and are refusing to sleep.”
Sherlock lowers the box and stares at John pointedly. “Well it is vitally important that I have raspberry leaf tea, you’ll have to get me some.”
“And just why is raspberry leaf tea so important?” John sighs, dropping his head slightly as he runs a hand over his face. Sherlock’s lips pout ever so slightly and his eyebrows furrow.
“If our baby is to be born today than it is imperative that I drink raspberry leaf tea. There are many accounts by various omegas online about the effectiveness and how within just a few hours labour has been induced. If I do not drink this tea then this pregnancy could last for weeks, which would be detrimental to both mine and our happiness.”
“Sherlock you will not be pregnant for weeks,” John sighs exasperatedly. “I thought you would have learnt from the curry yesterday, these things are just wives tales! Our baby will be born when it is good and ready and not a moment before.”
“Then it won’t make one bit of difference if I drink the tea or not will it?” Sherlock replies, his eyes wide and innocent looking, bottom lip jutting out slightly.
John huffs and his shoulders droop. “Fine, fine! I’ll get the damn tea!” he mutters, turning on his heel and walking back to the bedroom, his towel slipping further down over his hips as he goes.
Sherlock smirks and tosses the box of camomile between his hands, humming to himself happily as he shoulders the cupboard door behind him closed.