John had long ago become adept at ignoring the sounds of men sharing his living space.  Military life offered little in the way of privacy.  Only the most egregious intrusions on his senses warranted intervention.  A live-and-let-live attitude meant his own habits were tolerated as well.<br/><br/>The noises of his housemate hardly impacted on his morning ritual of rising and preparing for the day.  Shaving, showering, grooming and dressing followed each other in a precise order that hadn't deviated from the routine established at school.  It had carried him through his army services and provided normalcy during those periods spent at headquarters.<br/><br/>The man looking back at him from the mirror had changed over the previous months from a haggard individual with haunted eyes to a more self-possessed man who had experienced much pain and disillusionment and integrated it into his personality.<br/><br/>There were still moments when something would trigger a flashback and he would be lost in memories of fire fights and explosions.  Those moments were fewer now and passed more quickly.  It didn't make up for the suddenness with which they happened but knowing he had some control now helped him feel more positive about his recovery.<br/><br/>John straightened the cuffs of his standard dress shirt, pale blue today, and gave a pat to the polished buckle of the black leather belt cinching his dark gray twill trousers.  He wiggled toes encased in knit stockings of a deeper gray and shod with soft leather loafers of Italian design.  The expensive footwear was his one concession to leaving behind the hard and heavy boots of the soldier.<br/><br/>One last look into deep brown eyes set in a lean, slightly rounded face and a hand smoothed over his short cropped brown hair and John was out the door of his room.  A moment later he walked in on Sherlock standing over his laptop poking at the keys and muttering to himself.<br/><br/>"Hacking into my personal files again, Sherlock?"  Exasperation and amusement mixed in John's voice as he crossed the room.  One thumb was busy queuing up the daily podcasts he subscribed to while his other hand tucked an earbud into place. "It would be less trouble to set you up with your own laptop.  How much time do you waste each day breaking my password?"