[Hey!] Soph says, one Sunday morning when it is beastly hot - especially for a January - to her sister, her boyfriend, and her, uh, Sherlock. [It is water park weather, how does that sound to you guys? And then, like, Italian food, I am thinking fond pesto thoughts, are you guys with me on fond pesto thoughts?]
"Come on, you," snorts Bella, and she takes Sherlock's hand and heads for the restaurant bathroom alcove. They don't have to actually enter either bathroom to be unobserved for the time it takes to port into a Jarvis.
Such moods are contagious. Sherlock can be a pillow. A kissable snuggly pillow.
She does work in her head for a bit - composes an essay for English to conjure into existence on the due date, confirms appointments with a few demons - and then she sighs comfortably and naps on him.
When she wakes up from her nap, Sherlock will also be awake. And snuggling her. Cozily.
She yawns awake mid-word ("bubbles") and gives him a little kiss on the cheek. "Hullo. I've fallen asleep on you before but I don't think I've ever been around you asleep, what with nocturnalness and then magic."
"I had trouble sleeping around people even before I was nocturnal or magical, actually."
"I could manage it if the person in question was Tony, but I didn't prefer to. Didn't even like having Jarvis watching. Now I mostly just don't sleep, which avoids the whole issue."