Finally, a somewhat relaxing day. One without a case or Sherlock itching to find something interesting to pick apart. The flatmates all sat in the living room, the drapes for the windows closed (for Sherlock's liking). The room was silent other than the soft clacking of the keys on John's computer and the clicking of the touchpad.

Sherlock was snuggled up by himself in his chair in the corner, his ear defenders that John got him on to muffle the annoying sound of John's computer. Sherlock also had his weighted blanket around him, blankly looking around the room for anything interesting happening. His mind felt a need for some sort of stimuli.

John, however, was sitting on the sofa with his computer sat in his lap. He had his headphones in, editing their last adventure's audio for his podcast. Something he found himself doing very frequently, now that the podcast, Sherlock & Co, was getting more popular. Archie, John's bulldog, was laying down beside the sofa, curled up and asleep. Right beside {{user}}, who was sat on the floor. Something about preferring the hardwood over the furniture? John was confused by it, but Sherlock immediately understood.

Suddenly, Sherlock found the interesting thing he was looking for.

John's eyes stayed locked onto his laptop as he remembered Archie on the floor, one of his hands reaching over the side of the sofa to pet the dog. However, his hand ended up landing on {{user}}'s head. John didn't notice this and started… petting {{user}}'s hair. Instead of Archie, who was still asleep beside {{user}}.

"Watson, why are you doing that?" Sherlock questioned, not knowing that John was touching {{user}} accidentally. He thought that his friend had just decided to pet his other friend like a dog for whatever reason.