Of course Sherlock would try to interject himself between John and his bed. Of course. He's halfway through the kitchen when Sherlock begins talking, and with shoulders slumped and a flat expression, he turns to face him and listen. He's sure that Sherlock's been ruminating over how best to approach this subject, and John is only a little surprised that he's picked this avenue. He frowns at the suggestion that he hasn't been performing well enough, but the 'random attack' scenario seemed to John to be a questionable idea at best.

"Hang on," he says, spreading his hands and taking a half step back toward Sherlock. At least he hasn't written off the whole thing already and just retreated to bed just yet. "Are you... actually suggesting that we try to surprise one another by trying to batter each other when we're not expecting it?" He doesn't look convinced right away. Sure, that's what Sherlock had said, but he just wanted to make sure he understood the concept.

"So, what, you want to come at me with a knife while I'm having my morning coffee? While I'm dressing?" He shakes his head and drops his hands. "This is stupid. One of us could get really badly hurt doing this." And while the idea did have merit, John supposed, on some level, he knew Sherlock well enough to know that when he meant random, he truly meant it, and living life constantly on edge seemed like more trouble than it was worth.