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Fic: Self-Fulfilling Prophecies

Title: Self-Fulfilling Prophecies
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Rating PG
Characters: John Watson/Sherlock Holmes
Length: 400 words
Alternate Link: AO3
Author's Notes: Written for the watsons_woes JWP Prompt #27: Dish of the Day. Unbeta'd.
Summary: Sherlock and John try their hands at predicting each other's fortune cookies.

John wasn't entirely certain what the bottom third of the door handle had to do with anything, but he had to admit, the dim sum had been excellent. When the bill was delivered, John glanced over it, tossed ten quid on the table, and then pulled the fortune cookies towards him.

He cracked one open, pulled out the fortune, and glanced over at the madman he'd just saved from a serial-killing cabbie. "Right, let's hear it, then."

"What's that?" Sherlock said, sorting through his coat pocket for coins.

"Three guesses," John challenged him.

"I never guess. It’s a matter of probability," Sherlock said, settling back into the booth and steepling his fingers in front of his mouth.

"You have exceeded what was expected," Sherlock announced.

"Have I? Oh, no, that's not it."

"You will soon make a change for the better," Sherlock suggested, studying John's face carefully.

"Maybe, but that's not what it says." John put on his best poker face.

"Hmmm. Your life will get more and more exciting," Sherlock offered.

John looked down at the fortune in his hand, folded it up, and stuck it in his pocket. "Yep, that's it. Can I have a go?"

Sherlock gestured magnanimously. John pushed the remaining fortune cookie towards him. Sherlock crumpled the cookie with one hand and retrieved the fortune from the fragments. He read it, then cocked an eyebrow towards John.

"A pleasant surprise is waiting for you," John said.

"No, that's –"

" – in bed," John finished.

Sherlock blinked.

"How about, 'The time is right to make new friends - in bed,'" John asked.

Sherlock cleared his throat, his cheeks going faintly pink. "John, perhaps I wasn't clear earlier, at Angelo's, but I'm not actually looking for –"

"No, I've got it. 'Curiosity kills boredom. Nothing can kill curiosity,'" John declared.

Sherlock grinned. "Oh, that's a good one. Yes," he said, as he folded up his fortune in careful imitation of John's earlier actions and put it away in his pocket. "You might as well spend the night at Baker Street. I'm certain Mrs Hudson has some spare bedding you can use."

John nodded agreeably. Sherlock stood up, shrugged into his coat, and swept out of the restaurant, expecting John to follow.

John took a moment to enjoy the view before standing up. He murmured, "- in bed," under his breath, and went to catch up with his new flat-mate.

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