Honestly I don't remember if MapleleafCameo got a chance to look through this months ago so I'll believe she did and say 'thank you!' while I curtsy nicely. Lol

Also, I do not own them, therefore I do not profit from them.

Sherlock was sat hunched in his chair, face to the fireplace, as he pouted.

John took one look, rolled his eyes and entered their living room with a glass of water and paracetamol.

"This is terrible!" the detective groaned, as he looked to his friend.

John bit his tongue and handed over the treasures in his possession.

"You really should go in for a check up you said! It won't be that bad you said!" Sherlock complained, as he handed the empty glass back to his flatmate.

"Well now the entire left side of my cheek hurts and I am leaking when I mean to swallow! Stupid numbing agent!" He used a cloth to wipe off the water dripping down his chin.

"A minute ago you said you felt like everything on that side, including your cheek, was missing and now everything is giving you pain?" John made sure to add just enough of Captain Watson into his voice and raise his eyebrow at the same time.

Deciding to not incriminate himself further by answering, Sherlock made another stab for pity instead by whimpering. "It hurts John!"

Taking a breath, and sending a quick prayer above for patience, the doctor sat in his own chair.

"Sherlock, that side of your jaw is going to hurt for at least a few hours, perhaps a day or so. The cavity they filled was for one of your top back teeth so you needed to keep your mouth open wider than normal for nearly an hour."

As he spoke a thought ran through John's mind and he smiled.

Seeing the turned up corners of his friend's mouth, Sherlock gave him a suspicious look. "What is so humorous?"

Knowing he might pay for the words he was about to share, John hesitated for a moment before deciding it would be worth it.

"I was just thinking. You don't seem to have as big of a mouth as we all thought. If you did, you wouldn't be feeling any pain right now."

If looks could kill, John knew he would have been buried twenty feet in the ground. As it was, the threatening glance did nothing to make him pause.

"If you had kept visiting the dentist when you should have this might have been prevented," he said.

Sherlock crossed his arms. "I must say, if this is an example of your bedside manner, it is sorely lacking in the compassion I would expect from a physician such as yourself. You claim to care for your patients. "

John leaned across to pat his friend's knee. "I'm sorry, Chipmunk."

John stood up and started to walk towards the kitchen. Behind him, he heard, "Chipmunk? Chipmunk?!"

The water was running for their electric kettle when Sherlock made his way into the room.

"What do you mean calling me such a ridiculous thing?"

John touched his tongue to his front teeth as he grinned.

"The novocaine is making your left cheek puff out a bit. Sort of looks like you're hiding food in there for later. Like a chipmunk."

Sherlock stood still, his mouth open in horror.

"John, if you call me that once more, I will never speak to you again."

John gave a brief nod, his face serious.

Sherlock turned and went back into the living room. As he lowered himself to the sofa, John called out.

"By the way, I scheduled an appointment on Friday to have your teeth cleaned," he paused for effect, "Chipmunk."

Less than a heartbeat later he heard an outraged voice yell, "John!"