No Laughing Matter!

John leaned his back against the kitchen counter, waiting patiently for the water to come to a boil to make, of course, some tea. His arms were comfortably crossed and eyes resting shut when he heard one of the rarest sounds in his life: Sherlock laughing.

Slowly opening his eyes, John held a slight frown, for if Sherlock was laughing, it'd have to be at something highly disturbing.

Popping his head into the living room, John found Sherlock sitting in the middle, on the floor, of all his science equipment.

Strange, John thought, He usually conducts his experiments on the kitchen table.

But then John smiled, for in this very moment, cackling with glinted eyes, Sherlock couldn't have looked any more like an eager little boy, laughing in glee at his little discoveries. John briefly mused that it was easy to now see the kind of slightly manic sociopath of a boy Sherlock would have seemed to be to outsiders- from his safety goggles and gloves, to the Bunsen burner and flasks littered around him, and mostly to the mannerism in which he was laughing; his hand held up to cover his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut, and the way his lean frame was shaking and slightly rocking backward and forwards.

"Sherlock…" John began, stepping into the living room, right side of his mouth curling into a small unsure smile, "What's so funny?" John could see Sherlock trying to speak, waving his hands around in wild gestures – but to no avail. He just couldn't breath out a single word, let alone sentence, from all the laughter.

Oh God he's hysterical.

Looking around with a now confused look on his face, John tried to find the source of Sherlock's laughter, but really there's nothing at all that humorous… or disturbing, thankfully.

Maybe it's something from his Mind Palace.

But even that was unlikely.

By this time, Sherlock was literally rolling around on the floor, practically crawling away from his experiment. However, laughter, now easing, was still racking out from his large frame. After a few minutes, and a few goes at speech, Sherlock's baritone voice was finally seeping through the laughs.

"John! Hahahaha! Do you not see?! Hahahahahha! Its laughing gas! Hahahaha! I've inhaled laughing gas!"

John just cracked a smile in response. Now THAT was funny. Sherlock getting played by his own experiment. He must be hopping mad! Suddenly he found his smile turning into a wide grin and his chest started rumbling to his own laughter. All the while, Sherlock was watching him from his spot on the floor, laughter dying away and eyes narrowing angrily at John.

"John... John. It's not funny... JOHN!"

But John was already in hysterics – the fumes must of caught up with him too- because once he found himself laughing, he was unable to stop! Now doubled over, John couldn't speak, only managing to point at Sherlock accusingly and shake his head from side to side, with tears of laughter coming down his cheeks.

Still chuckling, Sherlock's piercing blue eyes looked ready to kill him

"John! Stop laughing immediately!" Suddenly a flash of understanding crossed Sherlock's expression. "…Oh no! John! You've inhaled the gas!"

Sherlock still his helpless state of laughter, attempted to stand up, reaching out towards John. But the laughter made Sherlock clumsy in his movements, and in a hilarious moment, Sherlock all too slowly, with a look of complete and utter shock and devastation, found his feet tangled in his robe just as he attempts to lunge towards John, and with arms flailing about, trips and lands directly into his experiment.

As if John didn't need anymore spurring on! At the hilarious and once-in-a-lifetime sight, John roared out in laughter, unable to hold himself up, instead lying face-down on the floor, thumping his right fist to the ground in his fit of frenzy.

Thankfully, for Sherlock, his head had just missed the still-alight Bunsen burner and his only injury would be a few cuts. However, Sherlock had just breathed in more of the laughing gas and was as furious as ever. But even his own startling fury couldn't withhold his now bellowing laughter. But seeing John laughing at him…!

"John! Hahahahhhaha! You really… hahahah…should stop laughing…. Hahahahaha… now….!" *Sherlock gasping for air* "the fumes are … hahahahha… out of your system… ahahhahhaha… John! … JoHN! JAWN! HAHAHAHAHA JAWWWWNNNN! IT'S NOT FUNNY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! MY LUSCIOUS CURLS WERE ALMOST BURNT TO ASHES! HAHAHAHA! JAWWWNNNNNN!"

But John just couldn't contain himself in his uncontrollable fit of laughter, and Sherlock was right, it wasn't the laughing gas anymore. Now lying on his back, covering his face with his hands, John tried to stifle his giggles not wanting to provoke Sherlock further from his delirious rage. But the memory of the infuriating know-it-all falling flat on his face kept replying in his head. What a sight to see!

"JAWWNN! YOU MADDENING HEDGEHOG! HAHAHAHAHHA IT REALLY IS NOT HAHAHAHAHA FUNNY! TOO MUCH LAUGHING GAS CAN KILL ME! HAHAHAHAHHHHAHA!"

John immediately stilled. Oh, shit. Laughter now gone, John lifted himself to a stand.

"Right. Not funny. Better get you out of there then!"

Holding his breath, John quickly made his way over to Sherlock. Lifting the laughing but clearly enraged man by the arms, John dragged Sherlock out of the living room into the kitchen. Opening the window above the sink, John, gently grasping his curls, stuck Sherlock's head out the window for some fresh air.

Deeply inhaling London's air into his lungs, Sherlock's laughs once again died down, his shaking body coming to a still. As Sherlock seemed to quiet down and come to himself, John slowly untangled his hand from his curls, and took a step back, allowing the detective some space. He then proceeded to fill up a glass of water, offering it to Sherlock.

"Here, drink. Doctor's orders"

Cautiously bringing his head back inside, Sherlock accepted the glass and took a few sips.

After a moment, "Are you okay, Sherlock?" The doctor asked, clearly concerned, taking the glass back and setting it down on the counter.

Sherlock straightened himself, trying to look as dignified as possible – mind you being in his sleepwear and robe and all - and coolly replied, 'Just fine, thank you. Though please refrain from retelling the events of today. I'd like to keep my reputation intact.'

John, now amused, slightly raised his eyebrows. "Not likely"

Sherlock shot him an incredulous look. "What?!"

Pouring some tea, John yet again found himself grinning at the image of Sherlock falling over. The hilarity of the moment was too much to keep to himself.

"John?!"

"No promises, Sherlock. Tea?"

Sherlock let out a huff. "Yes. Fine"

Handing him a cup of tea, John paused. "Why did you call me a hedgehog?"

Taking the hot cup, Sherlock smirked, "Why John, didn't anyone ever mention you look just like one? The resemblance is uncanny."

And with that, he strolled right back to the living room, leaving John with his all-too familiar look of utter confusion.