Don't Go

Sherlock had a problem. He'd deduced that John was going on a date. Combed hair, cologne, and the fact that a woman, who introduced herself as Maria, showed up at the door asking if John was there.

"I'll be back late."

"Alright." (No John, don't go!)

"That means no weird texts," the shorter man instructed as his date went out to hail a cab.

"Yes, John." (No! I need you!)

"When I come back, I don't want a psychopath chained in the bathtub, like last time."

"That was one time!" (Please stay.)

"And don't put my soap in the microwave, either."

"Science, John." (If it means you'll stay, I'll burn down the entire bathroom!)

"Are you sure you're fine by yourself?"

"I lived on my own for eight years!" (No, I'm not fine! You can't go with her! You have to stay with me!)

"Just checking!"

Maria calls from downstairs, and then John leaves, shutting the door behind him.

"Bye," Sherlock can hear him say through the door. His footsteps run down the stairs, then the front door slams, and he's gone.

"Goodbye, John." (I love you.)

Please review! Hate is accepted too! This is a little oneshot, but if you want me to add another chapter, I'm flexible. Please comment!