Watson knew when he woke up that it was going to be one of those days. The detective was in a black mood. Apparently, Holmes hadn't moved from where Watson left him the night before. He lounged on the bearskin rug in front of the mantle scraping disconnected, melancholy notes out of his miserable violin and lashing out like a viper with his bitter tongue to sting anyone who had the misfortune of walking through the room. Watson was beyond tired of this behavior. He steeled his nerves before planting himself firmly between his partner and the fireplace.

"I have just the thing for you."

"Doubtful," Holmes pouted without removing his bow from the strings.

Watson stepped forward, meeting the other man's petulance with a smile, "Luckily for you, I'm a doctor. It's called an attitude adjustment."

The music ended suddenly, although the violin was not lowered. A piercing warning glance was sent his way, "And as a doctor I'm sure you know just where to stuff it?"

"Oh, my," Watson drawled as he knelt down, "This really is a very bad case. Let's see here..."

He reached carefully out and squeezed Sherlock's waist. The reaction was instantaneous. A deafening noise screeched out of the violin as he flinched, "What the deuce? Don't you dare!"

So he was ticklish. John responded by squeezing again and again, "I see you'll respond well to this treatment."

Sherlock laughed his peculiar giggle as his body tensed repeatedly. Although he kicked defending himself with his Stradivarius in his hands proved nearly impossible, "Stop it! Stop!"

"I'm afraid," now he was grinning widely. Holmes's laugh always had been infectious, "I cannot. Your case is so bad that I might as well call you attitude problem. In fact, I think I shall. What's your name?"

"I'm Sherlock," he snarled as well he could through his mirth, "God damn Holmes."

The doctor was laughing along with him in earnest now. He couldn't help himself, "What was that?"

He panted desperately, "Watson, stop this instant!"

"I'm afraid that's not the correct answer."

"Attitude problem," he howled. "My name is attitude problem."

"Very good!"

Holmes growled, "You're an ass, Watson!" at the blond's back as he beat a hasty retreat. But, at least he was smiling.