John grinned up at Sherlock quickly at the question. The mop was out of his hands just as quickly as his response.
"Oh, God, yes."
Smiling slightly in anticipation, John leaned the mop against the wall and slipped on a puddle he had yet to clean up. He caught himself on the balustrade with one hand as the other grasped for the floor. He was fine, just a bit frustrated. Hoisting himself to his feet, the veteran ducked around the corner and snagged his black jacket off of the rack, swinging it on smoothly over a simple tan sweater, denim jeans, and well used and cared for work boots. A final check of his pockets reminded him to grab his phone and wallet off of the chaotic desk. The army doctor was down the stairs and out the door with a yelled message to Mrs. Hudson that they'd be out for a few hours.
As if on cue, the cab rolled up to the curb and beeped twice. John walked to the window and confirmed that he and Sherlock were the intended passengers. After that he simply waited for his flatmate.