"Never thought you were much good with money to start with. Bit of a relief."

Sherlock held value in favors and singularities; he whisked through a case while John trailed behind and collected whatever money clients felt inclined to give. It was Sherlock's, of course. It went to the flat, the shopping, and anything else they needed, but it never seemed like an issue to the consulting detective until it could grant him a wish. John didn't know how he'd managed it.

John was thankful that, of all the problems they were carrying right now, money didn't have to be one of them.

While he was waiting for the noodles to cook through, John returned to the table and sat across from his eccentric friend. There was a soft grunt as the former soldier sat down, an indicator of just how tired the day had made him. Quite a typical tic of his coming back from a normal day at the clinic.

"Unfortunately, it's a reoccurring error," There was certainly something fond in his tone, curling around the edge of his cup as he took a sip. "Anything you'd like to share?"

Because John had had a full day, but Sherlock's was always infinitely more interesting.