I still can't believe that Arthur Conan Doyle married John off in his second fricking story just for him to be attached to Sherlock for the rest of the stories and forget that he has his own house with a fucking wife in it.
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hehe I’ve found this one without it source…
I know this is my fault, I must signed it but please people… Don’t delete the source when you reblog. It’ll be nice…
THANK YOU BYE <3
Sherlock pretends to be under the spell of a love potion to hit on John and see how he takes it?
Sherlock Holmes has a terrible idea. Mike & Molly are good wingmen. And John Watson exacts some sweet revenge. A Potterlock AU crack fic by helloliriels. READ IT HERE
2022 the challenge is on! Submit entries at any time!
Have a crazy idea you've been meaning to write?? Let those plot bunnies run WILD and FREE!!!! Take a serious concept and make it beyond idiotic! Take an utterly ridiculous concept and make it valid! Spice up those endings with a Shyamalan twist! Give me the crackiest crack you can cook up! ... I wanna piece o' this insanity!!!
To join in the fun, simply submit your fic to the collection! Now OPEN on AO3🎉by tagging '2022: The Year of The Crack Fic' 🎊[2022_Crack_Fix]
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Any rating level: Please properly tag your entries! If there's any whump or sadness, but can justify the crack, I'll allow it!
WANTED: Crack concept, Crack plot, or Crack twist, Johnlock, Mystrade or sherlock crack pairing welcome💋the winner with the most kudos by the end of the year will get their choice of fan art made (your choice, cover/pairing/prompt) as prize! Multiple submissions per user accepted. Fill our inboxes with SMILES and share the happy!
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😏 2022 😄
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“You don’t understand!” John’s drink sloshed in his hand as he fell toward Lestrade, waggling his finger and fairly wailing with upset, “he’s never gonna dance again!!!”
🎵
… guilty feet have got no rhythm!!!!! 🎵
🎵
Between the glaring lights and the pounding music, Sherlock could barely be heard past this section of the bar.
John began crying then. Raising his glass to Sherlock, who was currently belting out the lyrics to Careless Whisper with a rather tuneless melancholy voice.
Sherlock raised his glass to John also and continued doggedly on with the medoly … modely? … melody!
🎵
… the music dies, something in your eyes ..
🎵 oooo!!! … It’s all saaaaaaad
gooodbyyyyyesss!!!! … 🎵
🎵
“But look here, John! It’s just a song!” Lestrade was consoling.
“NOooooOOOooo!!” John was beside himself with grief, “he means it! Someone’s -” he hiccuped -”someone’s gone and -” he hiccuped and sniffled this time, “broken Sherrrlucks harrrt!!! Oooaahhhhh!!”
🎵
… shoulda known better than to cheat a friend …
🎵 … and WASTE the chance that
I’d been GIVENNNNN!!!! …
🎵
“Steady on!” Lestrade was scratching his head, “You mean?”
Looking over at Sherlock with new interest, “who, John?”
“Dunno!” John moaned, “but whoe’er it is! I’m gon’ - I’m!!! I’mmm gonnn’ messthemup!!!” He threatened, pounding his fist on the table!
🎵
… I’m never gonna DANCE AGAIN!
Guilty feeeeet! I’ve got NO rhythm! …
🎵
Lestrade patted John’s back, trying to act comforting - but - spilling more of John’s drink all over the place in the process.
“That’s awful, John! Just awful! Has he given you any clues? As to who it might be???”
John was weeping into his beer as Sherlock was holding out a sour note for added effect, a bit early on in the song for that … but … feelings!!! John cheered him on!!
🎵
Never without your love …
… Tonight the music seems … so loud …
🎵 I wish that we …
could lose this crowd … ?
Maybe it's better this way …! 🎵
🎵 We'd hurt each other … ……ooo….
…… ooOOooo … the things we'd WANT to say…!
🎵
“Not a word! I never - never KNEW!” Looking at his beer, he continued, “only said, they were getting married?!! Tomorrow!!! Never even asked him how he felt about it?! He’s been in love for years and they just … they just … ?! Ahhhhhhhahhhhggghhhh!!!”
John fell back into hysterics, “he’s NEVER GONNA DANCE AGAIN, Greg!!!” Sherlock was displaying his lack of dancing skills, currently up on the stage. Looking like a drugged giraffe as he continued his own wailing, gesticulating at the crowd, at everyone! At everything! So sad!
🎵
… I’m never gonna DANCE again! …🎵
… the way I danced with
🎵 yOOoooOOOOOUUUOOOUUUuuuuu!!!! …
🎵
Lestrade was trying desperately to comfort John and to keep him quiet. Not having had as much to drink or as strong of drink as these two so far! And the night was young?!
It was as if they were both throwing themselves at it, and couldn’t help how they behaved!
In fact, John’s grief was starting to draw more attention than Sherlock’s lack of talent on full display …
Lestrade grabbed a handful of napkins and tried cleaning up John’s face and the spills he was making. Handing him another to use as a tissue. John thanked him and went back to mooning over Sherlock’s woes.
“We danced once, you know?” John asked Lestrade rhetorically, remembering the precious moment, “back at Baker Street …? He showed me how to … how to waltz … for the wedding! Personal dance lesson, just for me??” his eyes brimming with tears and hot anger, “And just to think … he’s never … he’ll ne’er! …That BASTARD!!!”
Lestrade got ahead of the next wail by handing John a fresh beer.
John took it.
Eyes wide at the offering and digging in happily. Downing the glass almost in one go!
“SUCH A GOOD DANCER!!!“ John shouted to the crowd! “You wouldn’t believe it!!” He cheered Sherlock on, raising his mug to the room, “that man can DANCE!!!”
🎵
… We could have been so good together …
… We could have lived this dance forever?!
… but now, who's gonna dance with me?
🎵 WHOoooOOO?!
Please stay!!!!!
🎵
He slammed it down - pointing now at Sherlock, “sing it! SING IT, Sherlock!! You TELL ‘em!”
Letrade was looking at John oddly.
“Say …umm … John?”
John’s head swivelled more than he should like, quicker than he should have liked, and a wave of nausea hit. “Hi! Yeah? Wot’s up, Greg?” he asked, this time shifting his whole body around to where his head was facing. Made things easier … to … focrus … forcus … focus. “You say- … -ay something to me?” Slipping as he tried to sit upright on his elbow.
“Yes. John, look here! You and Sherlock -?” he pointed up at the pining detective - “You say - he has been in LOVE with this person for years now…?”
He nodded for extra effect.
John found his own head bobbing in agreement. Yes. Yes. That was right.
“... and said person is uh … getting married?” He asked, an odd tone in his voice.
Once again John’s head bobbed up and down in agreement.
“... tomorrow?” Lestrade queried, eyeing Sherlock closely now. While John’s head continued to bob. Blinking, he looked back at John with an expression on his face … like wonder … ?
John narrowed his eyes, trying to make it out.
“You saying something, Greg?” John intoned his displeasure at this hush-hush way of going around the point! “What’reyouonabout?!”
“John!” He tried again, “think about this. Who do you know that Sherlock has spent enough time with? Enough to fall in love? Anyone come to mind? Since you met him?”
🎵
… was what I did'sso so wronggg??!!!!
🎵 Sooo wroOong!
That… you had … to leave me heeeere?
all aloooOOoooone … ? 🎵
🎵
John had to think on that.
Thinking hurt.
Sherlock hurt.
Johnwantedtohurtsomeoneforhim …!!!
“DOn’t YoU bRinG hER Up?! You hEAr Me, Greg?!” John was hissing through his teeth.
“John - NO! Look here, Sherlock doesn’t love ‘The Woman’, and she isn’t getting married tomorrow!” Lestrade was shushing him and pushing him back down in his chair, “he never liked her that way, I can tell you that right now!”
John sat down, sudbude … dubsued … subdued.
“Right. HOW?” John was aksing, asking for clarification? “How d’you know that?!”
🎵
… I'm never gonna dance again …
🎵
“He told me, John! Said she was clever and all - but not half as clever as she thought - and how he did her a favor and was glad to see her go! Got her passage to America and amnesty for God sake!” Greg was sighing, wiping his face with his hand, “POINT IS! If he’d wanted to run off with her, he coulda done it anytime? Yeah? Instead he came home to pop out of a cake? To see us. TO SEE … YOU!” He gestured at John’s whole … existence.
John felt like that clear-eared things up a bit but nooooooo not at all ….??
“...ooookayyy … so you’re saying???” he tried asking. Room spinning a bit. Was Greg saying what he thought he was saying … ? Couldn’t be?
“I’m sayin’!! JOHN!!! There is only you, Mrs. Hudson, and the forensics team in his life! And he hardly talks to Molly! or I? outside of a crime investigation? And Mrs. Hudson is like eighty … and none of THEM are getting married TO-MORR-OW!!! … Sooooo…. ???“ his finger drew a line on the table from Sherlock’s corner of the room to John’s corner of the table … and let out a low longggggggggg insinuating whistle …!
John’s eyes opened WIDE.
He dropped his beer.
Hearing it clatter on the floor.
Standing up in a hurry and pushing off towards Sherlock!
🎵
🎵 … I'm never gonna dance again …
… I'm never gonna dance again … 🎵
… I'm never gonna dance agaaaaaaain!!!!!!!
🎵
“SHERLOCK!”
John was shouting over the din of the music and the cheering going on. A section no doubt hoping he was going to save them from this horrible wailing dirge …!
🎵
… I’M NEVER GONNA DANCE AGAIN!!!
🎵
John was shoving past the giggling bunch of inebriated women. All hooting and hollering …
Sherlock was still belting it out at the top of his lungs!
🎵
… I’M NEVER GONNA DANCE AGAIN!!!
🎵
“SHERLOCK!?”
🎵
… I’M NEVER GONNA DANCE AGAIN!
nana AGAIN nana AGAIN 🎵
🎵 nana AGAIN nana AGAIN!!!!
🎵
John said it again louder, “SHERLOCK!” Snatching away the microphone. He caught the detective by his lapels, pulling him down to his own level to hear what he was saying.
An ear splitting sound issuing from the speakers as the microphone was pointed out towards the room for a split second.
Eyes big as saucers were watching John. The crowd was watching John.
John was gripped tight to Sherlock’s coat. Breathing harshly. Glaring at him angrily?!
“You don’t want me to get married tomorrow?” he asked into the mic.
Sherlock went to take a half step back. John was angry. John looked angry. Everyone could hear him!
“No! … John, I … !!”
“Do you want me to get married tomorrow?” John asked again.
After a moment, Sherlock nodded yes and then NO anyways … the liquor in his system overriding his own inhibitions … for which John was glad.
… Whatdiditmatternow?! He seemed to shrug trying to get away out of John’s grip to turn around.
John pulled him off balance, “was our dance going to be your last dance?”
Sherlock nodded helplessly, starting to tear up …
“So you like dancing?” John asked softly this time.
Sherlock squeaked out as if pained, “I’ve always loved dancing!”
“For fuck’s sake, Sherlock!” John dropped the mic and pulled Sherlock down to his waiting mouth for a kiss!
Sherlock caught himself around John’s waist. Eyes matching John’s and asking a millionbillionquestoinsallatonceand … John …
just grinned … as the crowd around them burst into applause and happy cheers for the couple!!!
“How about that dance, then?” He asked.
Sherlock’s eyes grew wide.
Sherlock’s smile grew wider.
Sherlock’s hands got handsier …
And soon John and Sherlock were spinning out onto the dance floor. Locked in each other's arms and kissing and snogging and making out so that Lestrade blushed, turning away from the crowd of girls and making his apologies as he snuck off …
“Do you love me, Sherlock?”
“I’ve always loved you, John!”
“I’ve always adored you, idiot!”
“Can we dance all night, John?”
“How long can you stay upright?!” John teased, steadying the detective - though he himself almost fell over in the process. The two stumbled and nearly capsized a table in their fumbling.
“Right boys!” Lestrade was coming up beside them, “carriage is waiting!” He jostled them off and out the front entrance to a sleek black car waiting at the curb. “Compliments of the Queen!” he teased, shoving them in and shutting the door to wave them off. Bye!!
“Guess we don’t have to stay upright,” John deadpanned. Waggling his eyebrows at Sherlock. Both of them burst out laughing and found their hands reaching out to embrace each other again, a long, sensuous kiss developing in the backseat of the car … as John climbed into Sherlock’s lap, all lips and tongues and hot heavy breathing, petting …
“DO try to keep it in your pants until we reach Baker Street?” Mycroft’s voice could be heard from the front seat, chiding.
John and Sherlock died with laughter. Hooting and hollering as they spilled out onto the curb in Baker Street. Neither watching as the car peeled out, leaving them there.
“Well …” Sherlock’s eyes were dancing with mirth.
“What shall we play next, then eh?” John asked cheekily.
“I have a record upstairs,” he suggested, “as long as you can stay upright?”
John wiggled his eyebrows again, “and what if I can’t stay upright?? Hmm… ?”
“Well … then,” Sherlock grinned, “I can think of a few other things we could do - horizontally … “
Hi yes hello welcome to Sherlock Meta for dummies :)
topic of the day: the coffin scene in TFP and why it is about John
let's start by Sherlock's deductions on the coffin: “[...] pointless courtesy of headroom I'd say this coffin is intended for someone of about 5'4'' (1,65 cm), makes it more likely to be a woman, [...] this is for an unmarried woman, distant from her close relatives; that much is suggested by the economy of the choice. Acquainted with the process of death but unsentimental about the necessity of disposal. [...]”
“Unmarried, practical about death, alone.”
sounds familiar? Not yet? Let me help with that!
John is unmarried since this takes place after Mary's death.
Honestly can't think of anyone who could be more practical about death than a military doctor.
and, as Sherlock said in Asip:
“[...] you're a war hero who can't find a place to live, unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to.”
oh! And let's not forget John's very own words in TRF:
“I was... so alone.”
yeah, so far so good! If we really don't want to leave anything out we should also mention that John is 5 ft 6½ (1, 69 cm) guess there's no pointless courtesy of headroom after all, hm? and that Molly is a well established John mirror. Not to mention that she's wearing the same jumper she was wearing when she "replaced" John in TEH.
a little extra that might have nothing to do with this but I'd still like to add:
in TFP:
John: “So it's for somebody who loves somebody.”
Mycroft: “It's for somebody who loves Sherlock [...].”
in ASiB
Irene Adler: “Somebody* loves you[Sherlock].”
*she's talking about the person who punched Sherlock in the face, whom we know to be John.
in conclusion: John is just the right height to fit in the coffin, he's unmarried, practical about death, distant from his family and alone. He's also somebody who loves Sherlock.
That is all I have to say about this for now :)) If there's any piece of meta or theory you'd like me to simplify please let me know <33
For @flashfictionfridayofficial - I behaved myself!! (100-1000 words) see??
----------------------------------
"Sherlock?"
John turned at the hall to realize Sherlock had not, in fact, followed him into the entryway to their flat.
He was standing out in the rain.
Getting utterly soaked.
It had started to come down, pouring buckets, and Sherlock was …
Sherlock was just standing out in it … ?
John hung up his scarf but grabbed his coat again, throwing it on, and thinking twice, grabbed Mrs. Hudson’s umbrella also. Realizing Sherlock was in some sort of thinking mode and not aware of his 'transport' in this moment. He really needed caring for … The man would get pneumonia at this rate!
Honestly …
How had he survived before John knew him?
"Sherlock? What are you doing out in the rain?" John tried one more time, before simply opening the umbrella, shutting the door, and standing out in it with him on the sidewalk.
Thinking also.
Mostly about Sherlock.
His eyes wandered up Sherlock's long torso, after a few moments, past his elegant hands that were steepled beneath his lips, to his sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes, and sighed. Waiting. Trying to hold his mind back. It was getting harder these days. To keep his eyes off of him … to not give himself away.
He schooled his thoughts on towards something … anything to do with their recent case. Anything that would not be Sherlock … But then … everything was.
He sighed again.
This was becoming a bad habit …
Sherlock seemed to come online a few moments later:
“There seems to be some sort of connection between love confessions and downpours," he was saying, "and I still haven't been able to work it out? Perhaps... the umbrella is blocking conductivity. Does one have to be wet to be affected?”
“Well I don't think it's like conducting electricity,” John joked, "admittedly, there are several films where umbrellas are involved, and it doesn't seem to affect the confession’s impact … But what does that have to do with … ?" And since when was Sherlock Holmes interested in love confessions? Or how they were given?!!
He wanted to ask. Somewhat afraid of the answer …
Knowing they had just left the Woman. And where Sherlock's mind must be headed … was he thinking of chasing off? Back after her to confess in this downpour … ?
John tightly gripped the umbrella and clenched his jaw. Staring angrily down at the puddles forming around them.
Sherlock was stripping off his glove, reaching out for John's hand … which he gave somewhat unwillingly.
Confused. Naturally.
As the detective took it into his own and began caressing …
John's breath caught.
Feeling the warmth of Sherlock's skin against his own in this chilling weather.
"Sherlock? I need to know what you're thinking? Clue me in here a little … ?" He at last begged, realizing he would hear it all anyway, sooner or later … "So we can get out of the rain?"
"It's something I never understood. Before, John. How anyone could let sentiment rule over their rational mind? Love was a defect - I thought - found only on the losing side …" he paused in his ministrations, but John was still not breathing …
Sherlock continued, looking closely at John's fingers, "Isn't it also the loser … that ends up out in the cold? Out in the rain?" He asked more somberly. More seriously this time. Clearly saddened by the thought.
… John wondered why?
"So why is it that love confessions are always out in the rain?" He was asking John now. All earnesty.
John's mouth gaped, he collected himself. Trying to think of something appropriate? To respond in answer to this - apparently - urgent question,
"... I suppose … it must ... symbolize some sort of a fresh start??" John tried. Licking his lips, suddenly dry. "A new beginning? Yeah?"
Sherlock was back to caressing his fingers.
Looking at them intently and not meeting John's eyes.
It felt nice … it felt … too nice.
John pulled his hand away.
“What is this really about, Sherlock?”
"Proving a point," he stated.
Sounding resigned,
"... that no matter what words come out of my mouth next … It will mean a new beginning … for good or evil, for me.
Either way, I will be on the losing side. But hopefully, I won't lose you?"
He stepped up to John then, taking his hand resolutely. His fingers asking John to open his palm. He did. Almost as a reflex to the gentleness in Sherlock’s touch this time … Too shocked to think, and watched in reflected awe as Sherlock placed it to his mouth - kissing the open palm.
If John's heart had begun to race when Sherlock had first touched his hand …
It was now beating almost uncontrollably …
He swallowed, whispering out an, "okay … "
His eyes dilating at the nearness, the intimacy of Sherlock's behavior.
"John Watson …
I think I'm in love with you."
Sherlock declared.
John shivered. Reflexively taking Sherlock's hand in his grip, to hold. For the grounding he badly needed.
He was in shock.
He might need a blanket.
Relief and thrill and pleasure and oh mY GOD did Sherlock Holmes just say the words I think he just said …?! Swirling in his mind with the unexpected admission. He held Sherlock’s warmth in his own palm. Looking up at him then, in complete adoration …
Waves of it …
Washing over him.
"You are a madman…"
He said at last, exhaling with a short laugh.
And Sherlock's eyes dropped.
"And I couldn't be more in love with you." He confessed.
Sherlock beamed.
Their hands meeting and intertwining with one swift movement. As John tilted his head, his face a journey of … are you going to kiss me already? And … I am standing out here … in the pouring rain … waiting?
He lowered the umbrella for more conductivity, and felt the electric shock …
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Couple of quick updates Aug 2021 as I've teased some new works:
☕ (I Love You) Infinitely
"With a snap of his fingers Thanos had caused the heartache and loss of half a planet's population. And Watson, of all people could have kissed the glove that did so ..."
THIS FIC HAS BEEN POSTED! COMING NEW CHAPTERS!
Infinity War (Marvel) / BBC Sherlock Reichenbach Fic
Took a little while longer than expected to finish up - but I wanted it to be done just right! And in all honesty, may become a series, as I kept thinking up more! SO please subscribe if that is your jam (I'll bring the PB). From the July @sherlockchallenge prompt GLOVE.
☕ Hurt For Me
John Watson is being arrested for murder, while Sherlock watches their world fall apart.
This WIP has picked back up!! Orig. Started back in MARCH ...💀I know?! A NEW CHAPTER has been posted (last night), replacing a DELETED chapter (also last night) that just was killing the VIBE. Fic is back on track, as originally intended. A lesson in NOT updating at midnight without referencing the 'gameplan' and previous notes.
See bad author? Don't be like bad author. Bad author has regrets.
Regrets are now gone. Let the angst ensue.
And *several* Alice In Wonderland inspired works to come - because I'm always more than happy to follow the white rabbit:
☕ Six Impossible Things
John finds a surprising journal on Sherlock's shelf. One he was never supposed to see ...
☕ Should The Moon Grin
John stopped to admire the crescent moon hanging in the night sky. Beautiful, how it was glowing. So low. Like he could just reach out and ... the sickle turned into a great big grin and above it an eye winked at him ...
WHAT IF SHERLOCK SENT MIKE OUT TO BRING WATSON IN? WHAT IF HE WAS TAKING NO CHANCES ON A CHANCE MEETING?
*** 💘 ***
“He’s going to be rude to you. Incurably rude. But you can NOT let him push you away! Do you understand this, Mike? Tell me you understand how important this is?” Sherlock was taking Mike by the shoulders and spinning him around. Boring into his eyes with a fierce gaze. Mike felt rather like a mouse trapped by a python. Sherlock was being DEAD serious. "Give him the benefit of the doubt!" Sherlock continued, "He deserves it."
“Okay, okay! I get it. I won’t let him rebuff me. And then?” Mike waited for the rest.
"He may try to walk away. Catch up to him if need be! He thinks he wants to be alone, but he doesn't! He wants friends! He needs a friend!!!"
Mike was looking at Sherlock closely. Watching as the telltale signs of his 'sociopath' façade slipped briefly below the radar, and he was suddenly staring at a young boy behind the eyes. It was somewhat disorienting ...
He had known the man so long, and yet, never - never - seen this concerned side of him before ...
"I'll make sure to get his attention and keep it," Mike promised, "get him talking ..." Mike's voice faded in awe of the transformation on Sherlock's face once again, as the mask slipped back on and careful calculations began anew, "... what then?"
“Be your usual ..." Sherlock made a grimace face … waving a flourish with his hand to accentuate.
“My usual … ?” Mike wondered aloud ... ?
“Disgustingly cheerful -” Sherlock finished, “- YOU KNOW! Maybe it will get through his defenses?! I’ve seen it work on other people around here. God knows why ...”
“Ta!” Mike acted affronted, “I will!”
Sherlock really was a mystery, but if this was that important to him? Mike wouldn’t let him down. "And you just want me to bring him back up here? Talk with you? That's it???"
"It is imperative," Sherlock was spinning around. Anxiously playing with his hands. And then fisting them into his hair as he did another loop, still thinking.
“Hey,” Mike tried to calm him before he pulled some out, “I get it. I’ll take care of it.”
“Do you?” Sherlock stopped to look at him, but his eyes were far away. Thinking still. Extrapolating all possible outcomes. Mike could tell. He’d been around the genius enough by now. "Make your decisions as if his life depends on it, for it very well might ... "
This was really serious then …
" ... but do not ACT like there is anything more than a chance meeting to you seeing him there ... " Sherlock was pacing.
“Yeah. I get it,” Mike comforted, being sure not to let any patronizing tones creep into his voice. There was something deeper going on here. And Sherlock hated being talked down to. He would give the WHOLE thing the benefit of his doubts. All fifty of them.
After all, Sherlock was rarely wrong ...
Mike was genuinely concerned at this point - that he was the only thing that could f*ck it up. He swallowed at the thought. Unless Sherlock actually made himself physically ill with worry before they got back up here? ... He’d better hurry.
Mike psyched himself up. He had this!
He made friends easily. Readily.
And John?
He had actually met years ago at Uni.
So ... that made this even easier! ... if John remembered him ... ? Mike noodled on that a moment trying to recall some details to use, should he need it.
“Sherlock, this is a big deal. I get it. You can trust me. I’ll get him to come up here! Hook or crook!” Mike picked up his briefcase and jacket then, and double checked the time on his phone. Stashing it in his pocket with the silent setting on.
Just as Sherlock had instructed.
He was to pretend his phone wasn’t working.
He didn’t want to absent-mindedly pick it back up in John’s presence though ... He stuck it in the other pocket, on second thought.
“Say whatever you have to,” Sherlock reminded him, with instructions as he headed for the door, hands gesturing wildly, “if he mentions needing accommodations, let him know you have someone else in the market for a flatmate. If he mentions needing a job, say you know someone hiring. Anything! I don’t care. I just need … a chance. To meet him. He just needs to see me. Once. GIVE. Me. That. Chance! And I will do anything you need for the next MONTH!!”
Mike laughed at that. Not sure if he actually wanted Sherlock around for the next month, if he was gonna be anything like this!
He watched Sherlock pacing back and forth in the room. A bull in a china shop, as his dad would say ...
Mike jingled his keys. Signaling that he was really going now ...
“Seriously though, Sherlock …” Mike continued - the thought that had been bouncing around in his mind since this whole hairbrained scheme had been suggested to him - coming to the forefront ...
He just had to know before he went - “I wouldn’t have taken you for the whole ‘love at first sight’ ... kind of … thing? … you know?”
Sherlock stopped mid-stride and boggled at Mike.
At Mike’s stupidity?
This was Sherlock’s ‘about-to-unleash-a-string-of-deductions-that-sound-a-lot-like-insults’ face.
But then ...
Sherlock appeared to reconsider.
And actually kept it to himself.
Wow. O ... wow.
He REALLY wanted Mike’s help badly, didn't he?
What if John Watson didn’t turn out to be interested? Mike hesitated a moment, thinking about warning Sherlock off the whole thing … with that thought ... he didn't want Sherlock to get hurt.
Mike breathed in. He waited.
Sherlock responded.
Sherlock always responded.
He would outlive GOD just to be the last one with a word in edgewise!
And then it came:
“Intuitions are not to be ignored, Mike. They represent data processed far too fast for the conscious mind to comprehend. What we call 'Love at first sight' is simply a complex series of calculations our mind has processes based on the chemical, auditory, visual, and olfactory senses it has taken in. All dissected by our subconscious mind and tallied as a good fit on some level. Even before we know the person intimately …,” Sherlock winced at that last word, glancing over at Mike as he did so. Quiet. Contrite. “And I never said that this was ... ,” Sherlock shut his mouth then, and stared pointedly at some papers on the counter there. Shuffling them about awkwardly.
Mike smiled.
It was a knowing smile, this time.
So he had deduced something Sherlock had NOT intended to let on. ... Will wonders never cease?!
Sherlock was not exactly given over to romanticism, and Mike was not exactly a close friend ... So talking about feelings was not something that was going to happen. And Mike was fine with that.
“Yeah, well,” Mike said, holding up his things to show he really was ready, “looks like it’s about time. If you still want me to do this?” He raised his eyebrows and gave Sherlock one last out ...
Sherlock took another deep breath in, and out. Centering himself. Checking his watch carefully, and then steepling his hands beneath his chin …
“Yes, go!” He waved Mike off.
Mike walked out as if charged with defending the realm. Chuckling the whole way.
He kinda liked the idea of playing Cupid ...
He could hear Sherlock behind him in the lab.
Tossing off his posh coat.
Probably rolling up his silk sleeves, and staging himself strategically. Somewhere, where he could get the best lighting on his curls within the lab. Wherever that was? He was certain Sherlock would know ...
Mike pressed the elevator button.
Visualizing his bow and arrow and the cute little wings he felt he would surely earn from this ...
okay now imagine John getting excited about something, John running up the stairs with the mail in his hand shouting, Sherlock, they said yes, they said yes! They’re publishing me! and barreling into the kitchen with the letter from a publisher accepting the novel John adapted from the blog and there’s Sherlock sitting on his stool, looking up from his microscope, and even though Sherlock had been supportive when John had started talking about turning the blog into a novel, suddenly crashing through John’s mind is every complaint Sherlock had ever made about the blog being over-romanticised and inaccurate, but then Sherlock smiles that big smile, the one where he has too many chins and the lines around his eyes sink down into his cheeks, and he jumps off his stool and dashes across the kitchen and pulls John into his arms and laughs and maybe lifts John off his feet a tiny bit and says, of course they did, they’d be fools not to, and kisses him with the grin still on his mouth and then rests his forehead on John’s and giggles and whispers Congratulations, John, in the softest most genuine voice, Sherlock excited about the things John is excited about, Sherlock supporting John, Sherlock wanting John to succeed, yes please
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