Chapter Two – White Flag

AN: Sorry this was so long in coming and that it's short :( Bad times. OH! Disclaimers! I never do them so I forget :( Clearly, and sadly, Sherlock is not mine. I only get a deliciously tingly sense of joy from this, other than that no profit whatsoever ;) Though the tingliness is lovely! Also the vouchers are REAL! :D Yes. They were a brilliant present from a friend.

Thankyou dear, DEAR reviewers. You precious people: Kismet, Cartoonheart, personwithnoname (this person actually didn't put a name :'( it saddens me), WonderfallsOnDaisies, machi-tan, izzabella11 and Aqua-lily6

Enjoy!

"Fuck you Sherlock!"(

"Oh you'd like that wouldn't you John?"

"God! You're such a CHILD! Listen to me when I say butterflies do have legs!"

"Why would they need legs? They have wings."

"You have legs but you still need arms don't you! You're wrong, accept it."

"Poppycock. You're just trying to trick me again."

"When have I tricked you?"

"Many times. Once you told me that there was a fourth Jaws film, and the shark died because it ate too many of the heroines."

"I was pulling your leg, not tricking you. It's called a joke!"

John turned away from Sherlock, and stared intently at the frozen head that was sitting on their kitchen counter. The head's face made John want to punch something slightly less than Sherlock's did.

"It amounts to the same thing. Either way I refuse to work with you or talk to you until you admit you're incorrect."

John ground his teeth and shot the detective a dirty glare. To give his shaking hands something to do he opened and shut the drawers, enjoying the violent rattling sound they made.

Something rectangular and orange jammed suddenly, causing John to catch his thumb in the drawer and groan in pain. Sherlock smirked from his new position curled on the sofa. Retrieving the offending object, which happened to be the the chequebook he'd received, John suddenly had a spark of brilliance.

He had sat down one night, looking through all the vouchers, and one had struck him as actually quite useful.

John scrabbled for a pencil and filled in the coupon:

"1 End to Argument: Like waving a white flag!

Redeemed on: 12/4/2010

Occasion: The Butterfly Disagreement

Voucher entitles Bearer to one (1) instant cessation of argument with Redeemee. Upon presentation of voucher, Bearer shall have the final word, followed by silence and absence of any retort associated with said argument. Argument may be revisited later only by mutual agreement."

With a calm and growing sense of superiority John tossed the piece of paper at a sulking Sherlock.

The detective attempted to ignore this but his curiosity was piqued and eventually he picked up the voucher and read it was a slight smirk.

"They have legs. Six of them," John said and was about to leave for work when Sherlock stopped him in his tracks by touching his shoulder.

"You do understand that if this," he gestured to the paper in his hand, "is to have validity, the others do too."

John was slightly out of sorts because Sherlock's hand was still on his shoulder, and it was warm and comforting and now it was sliding slowly down his arm, almost like a caress.

"Yeah well, I get to choose when to use them, if ever." John felt like adding so there but felt that might have been slightly hypocritical seeing as he'd called Sherlock a child earlier.

"Actually, the Bearer does. I'd keep a close eye on that chequebook if I were you. Don't want it falling into the wrong hands do we know?"

"What you're going to nick it? And use them...?"

"Oh beautifully subtle John, as always. But no, don't flatter yourself."

Despite what was coming out of the detective's mouth, there was a suggestive glint in his eyes that told a different story. He winked, slung on his black coat and walked out the door shutting it behind him.

In his haste to get to the clinic (he was very late after their argument) John accidentally left the chequebook on the kitchen table.