High Reason

The Case of Truth, of Course

The Case of Truth, Of Course

"I love this game," Sherlock said, rubbing his hands together, and folding his knees up to his chest in the armchair. John chuckled.

"That's because it's your way of legally interrogating people you can't deduce," he said.

"Wrong. But it is fun to hear the confessions from their own lips."

John drew the heavy blanket further over his lap and gave the fire a final poke before settling back into his respective armchair

"Alright then. You go first."

"To ask, or to answer?"

"To answer." John pursed his lips. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth, of course," Sherlock replied, as if the answer were obvious. John thought for a moment.

"What is your most embarrassing childhood memory?"

Sherlock answered quickly. "When I spoke with improper grammar before the entire primary school."

John resisted the urge to laugh. "That is the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"

"Mortifying." Sherlock pressed his hands together beneath his nose and stared into the flames. "I said, 'I was just wondering where Mr. Olmstead was at.'" He shut his eyes, as it hating to recall the moment.

"Did anyone notice that was improper? I wouldn't."

"Not your turn anymore. Truth or dare?"

John hesitated for a moment. "Truth," he said, adding, "but only because I am terrified of whatever your might dare me to do."

Sherlock chuckled in his turn, and asked, "Why do you sleep with your trousers off?"

John was momentarily surprised. How on earth... "Because it is too warm beneath the covers with them on," he said, clearing his throat and giving a quiet sniff. "What's it to you?"

"Wouldn't you find it more sensible to leave them on, and remove the covers instead? Slightly more modest," Sherlock said, his icy gaze meeting John's.

He squirmed slightly. "You're one to talk of modesty, after wearing a sheet to Buckingham -"

"When did you start this? Not military life, I'm sure."

John considered. "Actually, not until I moved in here. It's so stuffy sometimes." Suddenly his eyes widened. "It's not your turn anymore!"

Sherlock grinned. "I wondered when you were going to notice."

"Truth or dare?" John asked moodily.

"Truth, of course."

"'Of course,'" John mimicked. "Oh... now, I have to think of a question. What is something you'd never tell anyone?"

"That I have an affinity for cotton swabs," Sherlock answered quickly. "Secret. They're such handy things."

"Affinity?" John raised his eyebrows. "Interesting way of putting it." He took a sip of his tea, swallowing quickly. "Your turn."

"Truth or dare?"

"Erm... truth," John said. "Make it a clean blow."

Sherlock hesitated. "Why do you phone your sister if you two aren't speaking?"

"We only aren't speaking because she never answers," John said mildly. "And you knew that already."

"I just wanted to confirm."

"Ah. Truth or dare? Truth, of course," John answered himself, spitting out, "Do you ever remember feeling emotions as a younger person?"

"Actually..." Sherlock began, "-I was going to say dare."

John groaned. "Drat, I wanted the answer to that one. Now I have to come up with a dare. I know." He straightened. "Sing 'I'm a Little Teapot' all the way thorough."

Sherlock scowled. "I don't really remember the words. Remind me how it goes?"

And Sherlock sat quietly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as John sang 'I'm a Little Teapot' all the way through, complete with the motions.

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