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It had been raining all day, John had forgotten his umbrella, and as a result, he was relieved when he finally reached his destination, his favourite coffee shop, Ratiocination. He'd barely gotten in the door when he heard Sherlock's raised voice. The man was yelling at a customer. Again. Overall, not a terribly surprising occurrence, but considering the volume of the argument, it was a little hard to ignore.
"Of course there is no milk in your espresso, you dim-witted dolt! If you wished your espresso to be adulterated by a milk-based product then you should have requested a drink that contained some sort of dairy substance. There are dozens of beverages that would fulfil such a desire and yet you ordered the lone potable that, by its nature, would not have any additive, milk or otherwise!"
The customer suffering Sherlock's current ire was a haughty, sombre looking bloke who was seemingly unfazed by the ongoing diatribe. He merely stood there and let Sherlock's words wash over him and it was only once the lecture wound down that he spoke. "Am I to understand from your boorish retort that you will not be preparing my order as I requested?"
Sherlock threw his hands up in frustration. "No, I will not be preparing your ridiculously asinine order! Out! Get out! And if you ever come in here again, I shall make the constabulary aware of your unethical practices during the last fiscal year!"
The reaction was instantaneous; the colour drained from the customer's face so quickly that John actually worried the man might faint. However, before he could approach him, the man spun around, wide-eyed, and fled the coffee shop.
"Ah, John. I'm pleased to see you braved the elements to make your way here, despite your recent bout of illness."
"How'd you know?" John started to ask before amending himself, "Right. Of course. I haven't been in for a while and I probably still look a little wrecked. It wasn't that bad, just a touch of a cold."
"More likely a case of the flu, you've lost at least a stone."
"Fine," John sighed heavily, "the flu. But it wasn't that bad. And besides, I'm here now, yeah?"
"That you are," Sherlock said with a smile. "Let me get you a cup of tea."
"Actually, I've had so much tea lately, I'm rather sick of it. I don't suppose I could get a coffee?"
"In a coffee shop? What an unusual request, but one I believe I can manage," Sherlock said, smirking slightly before busying himself behind the counter. "Now why don't you tell me what is in that bag you are currently mangling?"
"Oh. This." John cleared his throat, suddenly sheepish. "Yeah. I saw it and it seemed perfect. I mean, I know it's a bit ridiculous, you owning a coffee shop and all, but I thought.... Anyway, here." He shoved the bag at Sherlock.
"Thank you, John. I appreciate the sentiment, no matter how appropriate or inappropriate the gift may be. Would you open it for me whilst I finish your drink?"
John dug into the bag and pulled out a coffee mug. "I was looking around online and I noticed it was going to be International Coffee Day today and I'd seen this earlier and I thought of you. It's got the caffeine molecule on it, see?"
Sherlock stared at the present for a moment in silence, an expression on his face John couldn't read. Then, reaching out, he took the mug out of John's hands and replaced it with the beverage he'd made for John. "A latte. It's... perfect for... for this sort of day. And. Well..." Sherlock trailed off as he examined the mug in greater detail.
Not terribly surprised that Sherlock, never one for expressing emotions, hadn't said thank you, John looked down at his drink and smiled; Sherlock had etched an elaborate drawing of the two of them into the latte's foam. Appreciation and gratitude could be expressed
