221Behavior

In honor of the filming of Season 3 I’ve done a bit of character analysis for A Study in Pink. Character analysis is a favorite hobby you see, and I cannot handle Holmes and Watson. I can not. Admittedly I have watched all 8 episodes of Sherlock way more times than is considered healthy, but I’ve probably watched A Study in Pink more times than all the others combined. This is because I am absolutely fascinated by the way Sherlock and John come together, the way they start their relationship. After all, Sherlock Holmes doesn’t have friends, he just has the one. So how did that one make it through the gate? 

My theory is that the Holmes brothers approach all things scientifically, people included. We know that Mycroft picked John up and intentionally stressed him out just to see how he’d react, so why wouldn’t Sherlock?

Sherlock does specific social experiments to test his hypotheses about other people and I think nearly all of his remarks to John in the first episode are calculated, except for the ones that betray his surprise at John’s unpredictable behavior. The following is a rundown of what I think is happening at the beginning of this relationship. 

Sherlock Holmes needs a flatmate, but more than that, he needs an assistant. He states it explicitly, and my opening argument for this entire episode is that pretty much everything Sherlock does or says in ASIP is a test to see if John can fill the position.

From the minute they meet in the lab, Sherlock instantly knows why Mike has brought John in; John will be a potential flatmate. Okay. So what does that mean? John is someone that Sherlock will have to share his space with, so it’s going to be important that he’s someone Sherlock can be civil to.

We never learn much about Stamford, but I sortof wonder if he doesn’t regularly keep his phone in his coat because, if he does, Sherlock may have asked him if he could borrow it solely to see if John would offer his, especially considering that Sherlock never has problems with phone reception in the lab at any point after this. After all, a person’s attitude toward sharing their stuff is going to be the one of the first concerns for being flatmates. It could just be a coincidence that moves the plot along, but I’m just not sure when you’re dealing with Sherlock. He’s a brilliantly written character and he will often do and say things that turn out to have secondary motivations. It’s what makes the show so much fun to watch over and over. Okay, anyway…

When John meets him at 221B, Sherlock is very polite. He shakes his hand, requests a first name basis, waits for him at the top of the stairs, offers tea, doesn’t get rude or launch into a belittling run-down to prove him wrong when John doubts the claims on his webpage, and tells John to make himself at home. All of these are formalities that Sherlock is infamous for not participating in, and I don’t buy that he’s being nice just because there’s something special about John. I think he just needs a flatmate and knows that everything about his normal behavior drives people away, so instead of doing what comes natural to him he’s acting, putting up a “normal” front. He displays full competence of social etiquette in order to set up a standard, uninvolved, non-antagonistic flatshare relationship, and plans to leave John behind when Lestrade calls him. But then Sherlock hears John yelling about his leg.

I’m sure he already knows that John isn’t prone to random emotional outbursts, so if he’s shouting about his leg it must be because it’s preventing him, currently, from doing something he wants to do. It’s not stopping him from “making himself at home,” leaving, or doing any normal activity, so the only time-relevant factor left is Sherlock’s leaving. He’s not attached to Sherlock at this point, so why would he care if he left? Unless, of course, he wishes he were able to do something equally productive or…join him. 

Okay then. If John is interested in coming along, and as Sherlock had just told Lestrade—he needs an assistant, why not try out John? But if John is going to be of any use at all, he’ll have to know how Sherlock works. He’ll have to explain his techniques to John and remember, Sherlock seemed to be avoiding doing this at the apartment. When John asked him how he knew the stuff that he did, Sherlock just smiled and stayed quiet because he knows how quickly it sucks the civility out of his relationships. But an assistant would be way more valuable than a flatmate and another flatmate will be easy to find, so given a choice between the two, of course he’s going to give it a shot. So from this point forward in the episode I don’t think he really stops testing John, except for when his attention is focused elsewhere.

First test, easiest test; can John endure being analyzed? (Just as a side note, my favorite line is, “The man sitting next to me wouldn’t treat his one luxury item like this,” because somehow, from a once-over glance, Sherlock inferred that John was someone who takes care of things that he values, and I think that’s adorable. Okay, anyway—) Once finished he has a kind of flippant, uncomfortable expression on his face because he’s already predicted that the response will be negative and is preemptively trying to suppress his reaction to the rejection that, obviously, doesn’t come. When he hears “amazing,” his expression quickly shifts to reflect confusion. Apparently no one’s ever passed the first test.

On to phase two then.

After they get out of the cab Sherlock asks, “Did I get anything wrong?” and, if you look closely, he’s fidgeting with his glove and shaking his hand. He’s got a lot of nervous energy. I think after John didn’t have the normal reaction of, “Piss off,” Sherlock wasn’t immediately sure how to proceed. With the notable exceptions of Ms. Hudson and Lestrade, the people Sherlock knows seem to fall into two categories; one type meets him with insecurity and hostility, and the other type meets him with idealization, a blind ‘he’s brilliant’ blanketing, the kind we see with Angelo who chooses to gloss over the fact that Sherlock sent him to jail. I think Sherlock is curious to see if he’s gotten anything wrong, but I think he’s more curious about how John might go about telling him if he was. John obviously hasn’t volunteered any information but, because Sherlock is nervous, he must be anticipating something worse than he gets. Probably one of those two responses. Instead John focuses on the points he was right about and omits the one he missed.

Because of this Sherlock then remarks, “I didn’t expect to be right about everything.” For the first two seasons Sherlock never admits fault to anyone else, and tells John not to admit it (on his blog) either. It’s is an admission of potential weakness. An admission of weakness. That in itself is a test. “If I admit that I don’t know everything, will you still be impressed?”

What he discovers though is that he already was wrong, John just didn’t think it was a big deal and, more importantly, he doesn’t think a mistake negates the brilliance of the rest of his observations. He doesn’t attack him, doesn’t question him, doesn’t lower his opinion of him, or reassess him. He’s just…fine. 

Sherlock takes it in stride, but he’s probably surprised that John didn’t bother telling him that he’d made a mistake. I would expect that he’s used to people leaping at the chance to prove him wrong. It’s normal, polite behavior not to, of course, but no one treats Sherlock like he’s normal until John.

A friend, at least a good one, will usually not point out another friend’s mistakes if they aren’t important. Degrading a friend isn’t something people generally find pleasant, and it has a negative impact on the relationship. So even if they barely know each other, the implication that Sherlock probably gleans from John’s response is that John is interested in forming an amiable relationship, one where power dynamics are not the focus. And that is probably a very rare thing for Sherlock. When people quickly recognize how much power he potentially has over them, they either turn defensive or submissive, so a relationship where his mental strength isn’t the focal point is probably largely foreign to him. 

Once inside Sherlock does his thing and John gets to see how much cooler it is when it’s not happening to you. John shows that he’s okay with not being as bright as Sherlock when he openly admits, “It’s not obvious to me,” so he’s not going to try and compete with him like, for example, Anderson. That’s good. But I think the real gem of this entire scene is the fact that John’s not afraid to praise Sherlock in public.

 I think it would have been very different if John had waited to pull Sherlock aside later and say, “you’re brilliant.” When Sherlock is deducing Jennifer Wilson and John says, “That’s fantastic!” Sherlock asks him, “Do you know you do that out loud?” I think he is happy that John is okay acknowledging his brilliance, but I think he’s far more surprised, and markedly impressed, that John’s willing to do it in front of other people. Because everyone there has already made it crystal clear that the accepted behavior is to hold Sherlock in contempt and ostracize him whenever possible.

 John is blatantly disregarding the social cues of the people around him and is acting on his own opinions. At the same time though, he won’t examine Jennifer Wilson without Lestrade’s permission, even though Sherlock obviously feels fine bullying him. This means that he’s making separate and conscious decisions, and it’s not just as part of a blanket “fuck the rules/other opinions” philosophy, which could be problematic.

 John is someone who does not bow to popular opinion, which implies a rational and impartial ability to look at a situation for what it is, rather than what other people think it is, before drawing conclusions. That in itself is going to be indispensably valuable to someone like Sherlock, who already has all the information and just needs a different view point occasionally.

 Brilliant!

 Naturally, he then abandons John at the crime scene.

 At this point Sherlock wants to move quickly. He can’t be bothered to oblige John’s unnecessary limp and he’s used to doing things by himself. But this aside, even if John will work as an assistant, he’s going to get left behind a lot. I think this situation doubles nicely as a display of what comes naturally to Sherlock and an opportunity to gauge John’s reaction to being ditched, which will inevitably happen.  After all, when he’s finished finding the case Sherlock calls John back. Yes he ditched him, but he wasn’t done with him.

So the conversation in the taxi was about determining John’s character, and the ones at the crime scene were about how he would work around others. From these interactions, Sherlock has learned that John is someone who can both tolerate him and whose opinions won’t be swayed by the general atmosphere of discord that follows Sherlock. So now it’s time for the third round of tests; will he be able to meet the mental and physical requirements for a good assistant and is he someone who can stand to be around Sherlock (and someone Sherlock can stand to be around) for an extended period of time?

Obviously he started this at the crime scene. While John is looking over Jennifer, Sherlock is watching him very intensely. He’s assessing John’s skill level and he seems to conclude that while he’s not a genius by any stretch, he’s not incompetent. He’s intelligent enough to hold his own and have a legitimate reason for being there (other than to simply stroke Sherlock’s ego, which would probably get tiresome really quick, even for Sherlock). He also voluntarily provided an alternative theory, “Maybe she checked into a hotel and left her case there.” This means that he’s 1) mentally participating even if it’s not terribly helpful, and 2) he’s not so intimidated by Sherlock that he’s afraid to toss out ideas that have probably already been considered, and will be quickly dismissed as wrong.

When John arrives back at 221B, Sherlock’s laying on his couch. He starts out ignoring John and, while Sherlock does get lost in thought and non-responsive, when he does talk he states that he called him for the menial purpose of using his mobile.

He’s intentionally goading John, trying to assess how far he can put him out before he genuinely starts to get pissed off. John offers Sherlock his phone and Sherlock doesn’t take it, he puts out his hand and waits. How much can Doctor Watson stand? That’s what he’s asking there, not “Will you pass me your phone?” Especially considering he doesn’t even want the phone, he hands it right back to him to make him send the text. He just wanted to see if he’d give it to him when he was intentionally being an ass. And the answer was yes. All through this scene he is pushy and rude, all of it testing how far he can push him. Can he insult him outright? Yep. John’s irritation is obvious, but what matters is that he passes the most important test of all;

Will he do what I tell him, if I don’t tell him why?

This is huge for Sherlock because he literally cannot always take the time to explain himself. He has to move fast and he has to do so frequently. Is John someone that he can trust to trust him? He already knows that John is impressed by his skill and is willing to publically acknowledge it. But does he have enough faith in him to assume that he’s doing the right thing? Because that’s going to be a vital trait of a useful assistant for Sherlock. In the casebook, in the post-its concerning the text, Sherlock says, “[it] shows how much I like you, I wouldn’t have let just anyone do it.” It does show how much he liked him. More accurately though, it showed that Sherlock had high expectations of John, and had deemed him reliable enough to give a shot.

When he pulls out the case John stares at him for a moment and he sighs, “I didn’t kill her.” When John says, “I never said you did,” he asks, “Why not?” It’s the logical assumption, it’s what everyone else but possibly Lestrade would assume. John doesn’t actually give him an answer, but Sherlock doesn’t need one. The point is that he didn’t make that assumption, no matter what his reasoning was. Sherlock gets kindof excited at this. He grins and hops up onto the back of his seat. But it’s not so much a celebration of, ‘he trusts me,’ as ‘yes! He didn’t jump at the obvious answer, he’s using his brain! Excellent!’ 

He then gets the follow-up to the ‘will you do what I say without knowing why?’ test; the ‘how will you react when you learn I’ve had you text a murderer?’ test. John’s answer is ‘nervously but still even-tempered.’ There’s no hysterics and he becomes even more impressed when the plan works out.

Sherlock leaps out of his chair. He’s just brimming with excitement. He was right about the murderer calling back, of course he was, but now everything is going his way. He’s excited about his success and he’s excited about John. He wants him to come along now, in-the-field so to speak. Before, when he went looking for her case, he left John behind. Now he wants to see him in action.

When they get into Angelo’s, Billy pulls a reserved sign off the table. Sherlock called ahead. That’s not really analysis I just think it’s hysterical. “Angelo, I need the window seat for a case.” “Anything for you.”

Sherlock notices everything everyone says about everything. When Ms. Hudson asks if they need two rooms, Sherlock has the briefest flash of confusion on his face, but when Angelo assumes John’s his date, he says nothing. He doesn’t even flinch, he just asks if John wants to eat. I think he realizes that this is an assumption that people are going to make about them and, since he’s used to people assuming wrongly, he’s not concerned. John is ruffled but not rude, so Sherlock drops it. But John keeps harping on it. He hasn’t pinned John for being gay, and obviously he thinks he can tell (Jim from IT), and Sherlock looks more annoyed the longer he he keeps pressing it. I don’t think it’s John’s possible come-on that bothers him. He doesn’t want romance, he doesn’t want that kind of messy relationship, but I think his concern isn’t about John’s potentially being attracted to him as much as the implications of the broader conversation topic; “People don’t have your kind of relationships in real life.”

In other words, “If you’re not into women, and you’re not into men, are really you into anything? Or are you weird?”

He probably doesn’t want John to think he’s weird. He likes John because he doesn’t treat him like he’s weird. John’s probably the best chance he’s had at a friend in a long time (if ever) and suddenly John’s going to throw it all in the gutter because he doesn’t do normal relationships? Sherlock looks annoyed but he also looks a little anxious. Of course, John is just making small talk and trying to figure Sherlock out in the way normal humans do, by asking questions. When John says, “It’s all fine,” Sherlock visibly relaxes.

“Good…” he says. “…thank you.”

John gives him an odd look for the thank you, like maybe he thinks he’s being indirectly insulted, but Sherlock is probably just genuinely grateful that John’s not looking down on him for not “being normal.”

Now, as for the car chase scene, again I think it doubles as work and a test for Sherlock. Can John ditch the ridiculous limp? Yes. Can he keep up? Yes. What about when he’s asking him to do things that make him nervous, like leaping from building to building? Yes? Excellent! He needs some polishing as he doesn’t always listen to orders the first time, but he’s quick to make up for it and, as a bonus, he’s apologizing to everyone that Sherlock shoves out of the way. That’s good. Less angry people with John there to smooth it out. In the end of it he’s even willing to play along as one of the police without Sherlock asking him to. “Any problems just let us know.”

THEN, amazingly, he doesn’t even harp on Sherlock’s mistake. Sherlock makes mistakes sometimes and it’s not a big deal to John. And, best of all, he laughs at Sherlock’s sense of humor. Sherlock looks so nervous when John starts laughing. Maybe he’s afraid that it will be followed up with a nasty remark about Sherlock’s pickpocketing or his mistake, but it’s just that John happened to think Sherlock was funny. Nothing more vicious to it.

In their hallway, away from the police, Sherlock looks so genuinely happy. It’s the first time you see him really happy, really laughing and not just sniggering. He’s just…he’s thrilled that this man has appeared. He’s not afraid of Sherlock, not intimidated or threatened, doesn’t care that he makes mistakes, doesn’t take Sherlock’s irritability and snippiness personally, doesn’t care that he’s not normal, has a similar appreciation for action and adventure, shares his dissatisfaction with everyday tedium, and has a similar sense of humor. There’s just one more thing.

“Ms. Hudson, Doctor Watson will take the room upstairs.” “Says who?” “Says the man at the door.”

When Angelo knocks on the door and John goes to answer it, there’s a shot of Sherlock breathing deeply and looking down at the floor. It’s very brief, but he looks like he’s stealing himself, as if he’s about to be punched in the face. I think this is his final test for John as an ally.

If there’s one thing in the world someone is going to get pissed off about, it’s having their deep-rooted psychological issues being dismissed as being all in their head and, moreover, having that fact handed to them by a total stranger.

Angelo is literally laughing at John. “He said you forgot this.”

If John was going to be touchy about any of his issues, it’s that one. In his early blog entries he repeatedly complains that no one says anything about his limp. John’s identity had become very focused on being a wounded soldier and you’d better believe John could have interpreted this as Sherlock saying, “the fact that you’re still dwelling on your traumatic, life-threatening injury is totally ridiculous.” It was a real possibility that John would’ve taken that badly. He might have easily gotten embarrassed and defensive and have made up some line about how it was just adrenaline and Sherlock does NOT know everything about him and he’s WRONG. I mean…this is a psychological condition to John and what Sherlock is doing is basically equivalent to telling someone with chronic depression that they could have solved everything all along by smiling more. It could have gone very differently.

John smiles though. He doesn’t do any of those things and when he looks back in Sherlock is absolutely beaming. He’s thrilled. If John’s not going to get angry about having that thrown in his face then there’s probably nothing that Sherlock’s unique abilities—the part of him that he knows drives people away—can do that will ruin things. He finally has his shot at a normal friendship. A real one.

Once upstairs things are pretty self-explanatory. John has decided that Sherlock is awesome and readily defends him even though he has no information about his drug use history. I think John feels that the detectives were wrong in their other assessments of him and therefore are probably wrong about all of them. He goes ahead and defends Sherlock even if he doesn’t know if he’s right or not and Sherlock, in turn, bounces ideas off of John and asks specifically for John’s assistance.

 When he realizes he’s said something socially inappropriate he runs it by John in a peculiarly childlike way. “Bit not good?” “Bit not good, yeah.” It’s an odd question really, but it’s interesting that John responds in kind. He uses the exact same language back with him, which reflects a willingness to meet Sherlock on whatever level he’s at.

As for the next part with the taxi driver, this is about the only part of the episode I don’t think was part of his test. I think at this point Sherlock already has a solid opinion of John formed, and he probably isn’t worried about testing him further. I think, instead, that old habits die hard. Even though I’m sure John would have helped him, Sherlock runs off on his own, doesn’t attempt to involve him, and doesn’t spare him another thought once his attention is elsewhere.

In the final scene when Sherlock confronts John, he doesn’t say much about his opinions on the fact that John saved him. I think Sherlock is surprised, not only that John was the one who saved him, but by the fact that, without any formality or a hinted request, John was already acting as his assistant. It was a job that he was going to do naturally. John was perfectly on-the-ball, got there in time, and acted acceptably (for Sherlock) without any instruction at all. He’d persisted where the police had left off, and I don’t think John shooting the cabbie was an act of friendship or loyalty, and I don’t think Sherlock thought this either. John was just acting in accordance with his moral compass, and this is probably what finalized it for Sherlock. John was someone who could be trusted to act intelligently with or without Sherlock’s instructions.

 He’s not going to be Sherlock’s assistant. He’s going to be his (business) partner.

This last conversation is my favorite in the whole series. It’s so easy to see what makes John and Sherlock different, but what makes the friendship so delightful is what they have in common.

When discussing it John says, “He wasn’t a very nice man,” and Sherlock’s micro-expression is a smirk. John killed someone and he didn’t feel bad because the person wasn’t very nice. This is right on the same level with Sherlock’s, “not good,” —a childish but widely understandable description of the situation. Moreover, John follows it up with a joke. John just killed someone and then he makes a joke about it. Let’s just flash back to one of the first things Sherlock said to John. “You stopped her husband being executed?” “Oh no, I ensured it.” He tells John that he ensured a man’s death and as he says it…he smiles. Proudly. This is not something that most people would consider normal or “good,” but, “He wasn’t a very nice man,” is something Sherlock can hear, understand and appreciate. Really, it’s indicative of the fact that they are actually very similar people, despite the numerous and obvious differences. They view life and death and morality from a relatively similar position, and can appreciate that there is an awful lot of grey area that can’t be dealt with by always following rules.

Sherlock then makes a follow up joke and John gets nervous. “We can’t giggle, it’s a crime scene.” Sherlock’s reply? “You’re the one who shot him, don’t blame me.” You’re the one that made it a crime scene, he teases. And that’s Sherlock’s sense of humor. It’s very dark. But John doesn’t care. John’s not judging him for it. It’s all fine. The exchanges of, “You risk your life to prove you’re clever.” “Why would I do that?” “Because you’re an idiot,” and “I never guess,” “Yes you do,” are perfect summaries of the fact that John views Sherlock as an equal. He knows that Sherlock is smarter than he is, but he doesn’t feel devalued because of it, and that’s obviously something very comforting to Sherlock. In a world stuffed full of people who are frightened or intimidated by him, he’s never been able to find someone who would treat him like a perfectly normal bloke. He would never want to be normal, of course, but it’s hard to stand alone in the world forever.

 Anyway, you can always tell a friendship is real when you can tell your friend, “you’re so full of shit,” and have them know that it’s true and it’s okay. It doesn’t change anything.

This meta is building somewhat off the one I wrote for A Study in Pink, so please see that for additional information.

All Holmes’ and Watsons share a common dynamic; Holmes shares his insights and adventures with Watson, and Watson provides back-up and the needed audience for his genius. These two come in a set, but in most Holmesian tales this dynamic is a given and already in place. These roles are played without any explanation or question of why.

The appeal of BBC’s Sherlock, specifically, is that it delves into the underlying emotional connection that holds the two together. It doesn’t take a genius to see that the relationship between John and Sherlock is what holds the attention of many of its most attentive fans. Of course the mysteries are clever and exhilarating, but whether you feel it’s romantic or bromantic, the connection and tension between the two heroes is an absolute thrill to witness. John becomes Sherlock’s connection to humanity. He replaces his isolation with acceptance, and fills his previously scorn-filled world with encouragement and friendship and, in turn, Sherlock gives John’s life meaning again. He fills his days with excitement and gives him the chance to be extraordinary, to make a difference.

But this is not at all what we get with The Blind Banker.

In fact, the most interesting thing about this episode is how markedly different it is from all the other episodes in the series. Compare The Blind Banker to A Sign of Three, or even A Study in Pink, and it’s almost a different program. It has a different tone emotionally, and the pacing of it is…well, frankly, it’s kindof tedious and plodding by ratio to the others. All the intensity and passion that was present in the first episode, the magnetism of John and Sherlock’s chemistry as well as the case itself, has almost disappeared entirely.

Until season three aired, I had honestly dismissed it as, “just not a very good episode.” Even my roommate, a casual viewer who enjoys Sherlock as a show but does not care about Johnlock in any way, had trouble sitting through this episode, saying it was boring and tedious. But since Moffat was quoted explaining Sherlock as, “not a detective show, [but] a show about a detective,” I changed my mind. Viewed in that light, this episode’s atmosphere suddenly makes perfect sense. In other words, if you look at the series not as a seasonal detective show, but a planned sequence of events that tell the story of the detective’s life, this out-of-pace episode suddenly takes on a very significant meaning.

This episode shows us what the lives of these two men were like before they met each other because, even though they’ve technically moved in together, they’re still living separate lives.

If A Study in Pink captured the excitement and emotional high of meeting someone you click with and starting a new relationship, The Blind Banker is the morning after when you wake up next to an almost-stranger who you don’t really trust and has a ton of annoying personal habits.

But more importantly, this episode sets the emotional pacing for the remainder of the series, in that it shows how slow change is for these two, even after an event so fantastically significant as ASiP.

At the start of this episode the two of them aren’t even consciously aware of how much they make each other step up their games and, most importantly, it shows what Holmes and Watson look like without the always unstated, but absolutely vital, emotional connection.

Following the credits, this episode opens with the two men engaged in two very different battles. Sherlock is fighting a criminal alone in his living room and John is fighting against petty, everyday tedium at the grocery. This parallel is very important because it tells us right off the bat where the two men are emotionally and what they’re having trouble with. John is frustratingly defeated by the ordinary world, as personified by the chip’n’pin machine, and Sherlock is successful but isolated, taking care of a pretty significant problem all by himself—and not even out in the world, but in his own tiny apartment. This is not Hero Sherlock and Back-up John, but Sherlock-the-island and John-the-island, dealing with problems that their counterparts are totally unaware of.

When John comes home defeated and admits it to Sherlock, Sherlock clearly finds John’s defeat impossibly stupid and also hilarious, but he keeps this to himself. We all know that Sherlock doesn’t keep anything to himself when he’s comfortable, so this means that although the two of them had a rollicking good time initially, Sherlock is still putting up a normal person front for John.

Moreover, according to John’s blog, he moved in on January 31st and TBB begins on March 23rd, so that means they’ve been living together for more than a month and a half without any mention of a case. John complains on his blog about Sherlock refusing to take the diamond case, but we see perfectly well that he got involved in it…he just didn’t tell John. Echoing this, John is doing all the domestic work without Sherlock.

The two men are living together, but they’re not doing the thing that brought them together. Sherlock is still in his strange world and John is still in his civilian hell, and there’s a lot of tension between them. Neither of them are happy, they’re just two very different flatmates butting heads. John tuts at Sherlock’s messiness and the scratches on the furniture. He thinks Sherlock is a lazy arse. Likewise, Sherlock is irritated that John won’t let him use his things and clearly thinks he’s a rude idiot.

This is how their relationship starts out. It’s not fun and exhilarating, it’s tedious and irritating.

Still, rather than either of them discussing moving out or going to their rooms to be away from each other, John joins Sherlock in the front room and tries to make conversation. He doesn’t want to move out, he wants to get a job so he can pay his share of the expenses. Sherlock then announces that he needs to go to the bank.

He means to talk to Sebastian, but John assumes that he finished his sentence for him and is going to lend him some money. Sebastian’s problem is not mentioned to him. John has no idea what’s happening even as they enter the bank, so they clearly didn’t talk about it on the way. My guess is that if John hadn’t misread Sherlock’s statement, Sherlock wouldn’t have brought him at all. After all, he intentionally lied about his previous last case to keep John out of it. There’s no unspoken communication of close partners here, just misunderstanding and John patiently hoping for a repeat high because he literally has nothing else going on.

This is supported by the fact that, once at the bank, Sherlock is making deductions but he’s not sharing them with John.

Sherlock then tries to introduce John as his friend and John denies it.

This is the exact opposite of what happened in A Study in Pink, where Sherlock showed off and John publicly praised and defended him in return. Neither of them are giving the other what they want here. Sherlock isn’t letting John help him so John isn’t getting his sense of purpose, and as he’s not getting excited, he doesn’t have energy to expend back into praising Sherlock. Their whole dynamic hinges on them feeding off of each other but since Sherlock isn’t letting John in, even though he clearly wants to help, John has nothing to work with.

The whole affair feels empty and uncomfortable.

John may be present, but Sherlock is working alone. The whole time he investigates there he says nothing to John, in fact, John’s not even in the background. He only shares his observations after being asked directly and, when he does explain himself, it’s with him charging ahead leaving John to trail behind him. Sherlock barely even looks at him. There is no input from John and no request for input. Sherlock breaks into Van Coon’s flat alone and doesn’t let John in. He investigates by himself and finds the body by himself. When Dimmock gets there he treats Sherlock like a pest, just like everyone but Lestrade does. We can see that John is trying to get involved, but rather than defend Sherlock, John jumps to the suicide conclusion like Dimmock and Sherlock gets disgusted with all of them.

This is what Holmes and Watson look like without the (b)romance that we take for granted.

Because the rest of the series is a story of them as a team, this is the only time we learn about them as individuals, and what we see is that it’s not just Sherlock that’s trouble; John isn’t all that amazing either.

In the short Many Happy Returns, Sherlock tells Greg that he wrote an essay for John about how all of his friends hate him. How can anyone possibly hate John, we wonder? Well, here’s our answer. Because Sherlock is so extreme in his disregard for social cues and other people’s feelings, John looks soft and cuddly by comparison. But the truth conveyed in this episode is that when he doesn’t have Sherlock out-doing him, he’s not such a great catch either.

He won’t let Sherlock use him to show off (colleagues, not friends), he isn’t supportive (rolling his eyes at Sherlock’s deductions about Van Coon being left handed), he’s unhelpful (“Look in the case.” “I’m not desperate to root around in some bloke’s dirty underwear.”), he’s sarcastic (impersonating Sherlock outside Yao’s apartment), and he’s passive-aggressive (mocking him for needing advice from Raz).

Sherlock goes home to investigate alone and John gets a mundane job where he chats up his pretty new coworker. And why shouldn’t he? He’s certainly not getting anything that he wants or needs from Sherlock. Hell, the next time they meet up John gets arrested, and Sherlock doesn’t seem to give one single fuck.

But this is actually a vital turning point in the episode for Sherlock.

It’s subtle, but this event seems to serve as a reminder to Sherlock that John actually is invested in this. Sherlock's attitude noticeably improves after this event. John’s willingness to put his coat back on and go to Scotland Yard for information, even after such a significant inconvenience, is important to recognize. This is John continuing to push for something even when all signs point to it being a waste of his time, and it’s symbolic of the romantic theme for the entirety of the series; Sherlock tells John that he’s wasting his time looking for “more,” but John does it anyway, until Sherlock comes around and realizes how much it benefits him.

Accordingly, John gets rewarded for his patience in the episode. In return for this stubborn desire to stay involved, Sherlock gives him a task.This seems so obvious to us as an audience to a Holmes-Watson story that we barely think of it at all, but this is really a very significant gesture on Sherlock’s part.

By providing John these few inches of trust, Sherlock gives John a chance to regain his traction.

They bump into each other in the field (so to speak) and John not only has the information Sherlock needs, but has gone ahead and started investigating rather than just reporting back to Sherlock or calling it a day. They discover the symbols are numbers together and discuss things over lunch. John asks questions that help Sherlock figure out the next step, and we start to see a glimmer of the bond formed in ASiP.

When they investigate Yao’s apartment, Sherlock actually talks to John as he investigates, which wasn’t the case before now. He still goes in alone though, even though John repeatedly asks to be let in, and ultimately when he calls out for help, John can’t hear or get to him. When he leaves, he hides the struggle from John. Why? It’s hardly embarrassing. It’s not not because he doesn’t care about his own life, or because he doesn’t want John to worry–it’s because he doesn’t want to admit to the fact that his current way of doing things isn’t working.

At the skate park when they split up, John finds one of the most important clues of the case, but when he returns with Sherlock they find it’s been erased. Sherlock automatically assumes that John won’t be of much use, but again John surprises him; he got the information and he kept it safe. Sherlock is noticeably impressed, and from this point forward makes a conscious decision to include John on the process. And just that fast, John’s attitude turns around.

All it takes is for Sherlock to include him and John stops doubting him, starts encouraging him, and starts defending him again. Instantly, John starts forgoing his own needs for Sherlock’s again. The purpose and meaning his life gains from the cases is paramount for John, and therefore so is Sherlock. John needs sleep? Doesn’t matter. John should lay low and protect the pretty girl? Too bad, because he’s going to follow Sherlock through the gallery.

They return to 221B again and, rather than just explaining everything, Sherlock presents some facts and lets John make the connections. He gets John’s brain involved and, for the first time this episode, the two of them start feeding off each other the same way they did in ASiP, because Sherlock is letting John help him. Up until this point in the episode the eye-contact between John and Sherlock is fleeting and somewhat void of emotion, but now that look returns to Sherlock’s eyes…that intense, devouring passion.

The two of them stay up all night together going through books. John puts his day job in danger for Sherlock and has no remorse at all. But there is one thing that John’s not willing to give up for the case, and that’s his date with Sarah. Right from the beginning of the series we see that sex is set up as the one major roadblock that stands between the two of them. Sherlock wants to work and John wants love (both physical and emotional). 

Sherlock makes a key remark here; John tells him, “I have a date. It’s where two people who like each other go out and have fun,” and Sherlock replies, “That’s what I was suggesting.” Since sex doesn’t enter into consideration for Sherlock, he doesn’t draw a line between work and dating. (In a Sign of Three, the deciding factor for which bars he and John will go drinking in is locations of dead bodies, this is his idea of a “personal touch.”) Sherlock states explicitly that he doesn’t distinguish between dating and investigating, which raises a red flag for us once we realize we’re watching a love story, but John doesn’t seem to make the connection there.

We know from ASiP, and pretty much every other episode, that John doesn’t know how to read Sherlock when it comes to relationships. You can see that he knows he’s receiving specific signals, but whenever he tries to confirm them, Sherlock shuts him down. And because he knows that Sherlock is strange, he second-guesses himself every single time.

Again, this scene is laying down the foundation for the whole rest of the series: Sherlock is an expert at facts and theories but shuts out all their emotional impact until John comes a long and makes him second guess the value in doing so. And, on the other hand, we have John who’s great at sex and romance and therefore recognizes Sherlock’s signals, but Sherlock contradicts him and leaves him questioning his own judgment.

When John says he’s going to take Sarah somewhere else, Sherlock gets pretty impassioned about him staying. With genuine confusion on his face, he asks in that childlike way of his, “What’s so important?” But unlike the first time with “not good,” and, “a bit not good,” John does not meet him on his level of maturity. He refuses to yield on this topic.

But Sherlock’s gotten a taste of that high again—the excitement of being connected, like in A Study in Pink—so he’s not willing to back down either. And he’s not above lying to make sure he can keep John on hand. When John won’t let Sherlock come in between him and Sarah, he literally, physically imposes himself, hovering right between their shoulders to the point where John is forcibly made closer to Sherlock than his own date.

Sherlock gets into trouble again and, interestingly, it’s Sarah that proves herself useful. She hits the attacker while John gets kicked to the floor, and then she notices that Soo Lin Yao started to translate the code. But Sherlock makes it very clear that he doesn’t want her help. Rather than talk to her about that discovery, he calls over John. Sherlock is focused on John, indicating an unwillingness to consider alternate partners. And this time, when John chooses Sarah over the puzzle, he get’s in trouble for it. That implies that, while John may be reluctant to give up sex and romance for Sherlock, it’s Sherlock that’s going to keep him safe and happy, not some girl he feeds take-away to off a tray.

Likewise, Sherlock is deeply disturbed by John’s kidnapping. It’s one of the only strong emotions he displays in the entire episode, including when he’s choked into unconsciousness. It’s clearly a moment in which Sherlock recognizes that he really wants to keep that partner he’s been neglecting, and he’s about to lose him. Accordingly, this lights a fire under him, and he does what he has to do to get him back.

Amusingly, Sherlock tries to reassure Sarah in a helpful way as he unties her while John makes a joke, which really drives home just how similar these two men are when it comes to social skills. John looks great next to Sherlock, but independent of him…well, it’s very clear that the personality improvements are not one-sided.

In the end as they return to the bank, John walks beside Sherlock, not behind. Van Coon’s secretary explains that she ended their relationship because he continually stood her up, running off without explanation and leaving her feeling unappreciated. He then ended up dead. This is obviously a telling parallel. In closing John and Sherlock are seen eating together, producing a very domestic image. That’s telling of the shift in the relationship that’s occurred during the episode. The two men are together now, living one life as opposed to two, and they’re clearly getting on better…but there’s still a lot not being said.