1. text

    In which Sherlock is not pleased that John has a date with some ‘Mary’ woman

    You’re now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

    Question to discuss:
    What did you do today?

    You: Shot the wall. -SH

    You: Again. -SH

    Stranger: Oh, God. Really? -JW

    You: Only a few times. -SH

    Stranger: Jesus Christ, Sherlock. I’d just patched it up, too. -JW

    You: Mrs. Hudson threatened to throw out my severed feet if I didn’t stop. -SH

    You: Relax, you can barely see it. -SH

    Stranger: Good. They’re starting to smell. I’m taking her side in this. -JW

    Stranger: Can barely see it? Sherlock, I can feel it. There’s been a draft ever since the first time. -JW

    You: Of course you are. Predictable. -SH

    You: So put on a jumper. You have enough to clothe a small country. -SH

    Stranger: I’m already wearing a jumper.. -JW

    You: So wear another one. -SH

    Stranger: Doesn’t matter now. I’m probably not coming home tonight. -JW

    You: What? Why not? -SH

    Stranger: Date. I met a woman at the Surgery today. Her name’s Mary. -JW

    You: And you’re already expecting to be out the whole night? Not worth it. Dump her and pick up the milk on your way home. -SH

    Stranger: Why would I listen to dating advice from you? Besides, it’s not what you think. -JW

    Stranger: Her father’s ill, we’re going to coffee and I told her I’d stick around overnight. Keep her company. -JW

    You: What do you care about her father? You’ve just met her. We need milk. -SH

    Stranger: Maybe I have, but she’s quite lovely. Buy the milk yourself for once. -JW

    You: Perhaps I will. And perhaps I’ll come round and offer my best wishes to her father. -SH

    Stranger: No! Sherlock, don’t. Don’t ruin this. -JW

    You: Your first date is babysitting her while her father’s ill, and you think there’s something there to ruin? I need milk, John, I can’t make tea without milk. -SH

    Stranger: Of course you wouldn’t understand. How could you? -JW

    Stranger: You have legs. Go down the shop yourself. -JW

    You: I understand perfectly. You think she’s in a weakened emotional state which will make her more vulnerable to you if you pretend to give a damn about her ailing father. She’s more likely to let you get close, and then you can have your shag or emotional blackmail or whatever it is you keep chasing after these women for. -SH

    Stranger: … -JW

    Stranger: I don’t even have words. -JW

    You: This is the bit where you claim that your intentions are nobler, either because you’re lying to yourself or because you’re actually unaware of your own motives. Really, John, we go through this same song and dance every time you find another true looooove. Bring the milk. The one with the pink cap. -SH

    Stranger: What the HELL business is it of yours what my intentions are? Why can’t you just let me be for one night? -JW

    You: Because this is getting old. Every different woman it’s the same thing, and I always tell you so, and you always get angry at me and then cling to her when you know the relationship is long dead because you have some demented urge to prove me wrong. Which you never will. Besides, it’s Wednesday. Wednesday is Bond night and I wanted to watch Casino Royale. -SH

    Stranger: I’m not a case, you know. You can’t just sit back and analyse me. You know what I think? I think my relationships end the way they do because of your involvement. You’re a dick. -JW

    You: And you’re selfish. Your relationships end because you’re no good with women. You’ll never be any good with one woman, so you keep finding another and another, and it’s always so easy to blame your own failures on me. You fail on your own, John. You’ve kept me a central part of your life despite the fact that it’s been a major problem in every one of your relationships. You’ve found a fool-proof way to sabotage yourself and you continue to use it with every pretty face that comes along, because it works and you can always push the blame off onto me. -SH

    Stranger: You know what? I’m done. I’m not going to argue with you because you will always find a way to manipulate the situation. I never have any opportunities with women between work and your demands. Don’t make me choose between you and a love life, Sherlock. It’s incredibly childish and selfish because you know that my obligations to you force my hand. -JW

    You: I’m not making you choose, John. You’ll have to do that one day no matter what I say or do. I just wonder if, when that day comes, you’ll fully understand what your decision will mean. -SH

    Stranger: What the hell. Now you’re just being cryptic. Look, fine. I’ll duck out this once. But you owe me. -JW

    You: Don’t bother. I hope Mary’s father’s condition improves. I won’t be home tonight, either. If you get back before I do, don’t touch the petri dishes on the table. -SH

    Stranger: Jesus. Fine. Fine. I’ll tell Mary my dick of a flatmate sends his regards. And don’t worry about your bloody petri dishes, I wouldn’t touch them if I was paid to. -JW

    You: I was attempting to be sincere, but if you’re going to act like a child, then I take it back. Don’t bother with the milk. I’ll get it. -SH

    Stranger: I’m sorry that your moments of sincerity are so rare that I assumed you weren’t. Good. Remember, pink cap. -JW

    You: Your apology was particularly ineffective because you layered it in rude remarks and near-insults. -SH

    Stranger: Nothing ever gets by you. -JW

    You: Should you be texting? I thought you had some emotional vampirism to be getting to. -SH

    Stranger: She’s talking to her father. I’m waiting in the cafeteria. Shut up, like you could possibly know anything about this situation. It’s ‘not your area’. -JW

    You: Her father’s in hospital, then. Not Bart’s? -SH

    Stranger: Yes. She was inquiring at Bart’s about a colleague, that’s where we met. I accompanied her here. -JW

    You: There was no response for a few minutes, and then footsteps approached from behind John. A hand covered with a latex glove reached out in front of him and placed a bottle of pink-capped milk on the table he was sitting at, then dropped an ugly teddy bear next to it. The bear was generic and fairly lame, and it had a tiny shirt that read ‘Get well beary soon!’ on it. Sherlock’s voice was quiet and laced with a strange tension that, coming from any other person, might have sounded like humility. “Molly says hello,” he said softly.

    Stranger: John stated at his mobile, which remained resolutely quiet in spite of his intense desire to continue his sarcastic attack on Sherlock. There was no real reason to be as angry with the man as he was, it was pure irrationality on his part. It didn’t even matter what Sherlock thought, his intentions with Mary were his own to ponder. But still, there it was. His angry thought-bubble was burst, however with the rather startling arrival of Holmes himself. Glancing over the items (an apology?), John looked up at Sherlock with an expression resting somewhere between frustration and amusement. Emotions never were simple in regards to the other man; it was nothing new. ‘Does she.’ Tapping the table awkwardly, John looked around for any sign of Mary. There was none. ‘What’s this, then?’

    Stranger: [ i apologise for any mistakes. haha it’s laaate. ]

    You: Sherlock stepped back, removing the latex gloves and tossing them into a nearby bin. “It’s a bear. You give it to people who are sick, and they pretend to like it.” He was quiet a moment, then he lifted his gaze to John, staring straight through him with a bizarre intensity. It was childlike, identical to the unwillingness to stop being angry after a tantrum, mixed with the embarrassment of having had the tantrum in the first place, and the shame of admitting to being wrong. Sherlock was all but pouting. “What’s the matter with her father?” he asked, keeping his voice measured and calm.

    You: ((XD late here, too. I didn’t even see that second message till just now, whoops. >_> ))

    Stranger: ’No, I see that. I’m just surprised it even crossed your mind.’ John shook his head, looking down at his half-finished coffee in an obvious attempt to avoid Sherlock’s ever-piercing gaze. If the man kept it up, John couldn’t be mad at him anymore. Then he would feel a proper git about those texts- he was already starting to regret them. ‘Well, that’s why she was at Bart’s. It’s hard to say at the moment; he’s been having seizures, but brain scans show up normal for a man his age. She was inquiring about using the school’s equipment-’ John stopped, shutting down with a suddenly mortified expression. He’d known Mary for, what? Five hours? It was hardly good form to be going about talking about her familial concerns. It was a blatant breach in trust. God, he could already tell this relationship would end like all the others. There it was again, that spark of anger. It was always down to Sherlock, wasn’t it? Always.

    You: ”Molly suggested it.” Sherlock raised his brows slightly and grabbed the back of a nearby chair, twirling it to face John and sitting in it— reclining, really. He stared at his flatmate’s face, that twinkle of curiosity back in his eyes as he took in the horrified expression. His eyes flicked back and forth across John’s face, and a few moments later it dawned on him. Somehow, talking about the health of this woman’s father was socially unacceptable, though the reasoning for it was far beyond Sherlock. Once he’d realised the reason behind the change in John’s demeanor, it was simple enough to see where his friend’s thoughts had gone from there, particularly with the twitch in the corner of John’s eye, the slight flaring of his nostrils, and the quickening of his pulse. There wasn’t any mistaking it. Angry at Sherlock. “I was -trying- to be compassionate,” he hissed, rising from his seat.

    Stranger: ’Of course. That makes more sense.’ Tapping the cheap plastic table-top again, he brought the coffee to his lips and instantly wished that hospitals served Irish Coffee. It certainly would have made the evening more tolerable. There was still no sign of Mary; though, quite frankly, John was too distracted to take note of it. Glancing resolutely at Sherlock, he watched as the other man’s expression turned in reflection of his own. Anger was replaced by guilt in a flash, and John couldn’t hide the suddenly regretful look in his eyes as Sherlock rose. ‘No- I- I know. Well, I know you were. Don’t really know why.’ Didn’t he have better things to do? The change in behaviour was obvious, even to John. It was incredibly out of character that Sherlock would even ask Molly for input on anything not regarding corpses. Add on top of that the attempt at compassion? John felt like he’d been plunged into unmarked territory, and he didn’t know what to say other than; ‘Is anything wrong? With you, I mean.’ God, that sounded stupid.

    You: Sherlock turned away, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up. He put enough purpose in it with hopes that it would appear natural, rather than giving away the fact that he was desperate for something to do with himself. He turned his head a bit in profile, looking back toward John without having to actually face him or meet his eyes. His lips pulled away from his teeth briefly, and for a moment he seemed to be almost grimacing, before he quickly cleared his throat, turning the back of his head to John again. Sherlock made a sound in his throat, too high to be speech, and then the words were pouring from him quickly. Like ripping off a band-aid. “I don’t want to take the chance… That is, I don’t want to be the reason behind a change in your decision.” There it was, about as bare as Sherlock could ever lay it. There had been a moment of panic, where Sherlock had seriously wondered if he might have pushed John too far this time. If this time, the choice between friend and girlfriend might not tip in Sherlock’s favor. His shoulders stiffened, bracing for the fallout from this fairly candid confession.

    Stranger: John tensed, there had been a bit of nervous build-up in watching Sherlock actually fidget (he had a tendency to move around a bit, but never like this). Something had definitely goaded the man here. John didn’t have time to wonder about the specifics for long, because before he had time to prepare himself Sherlock had spoken. And even though Sherlock had a tendency to leave out the finer details, John couldn’t help but understand completely; seemingly only to spite the last remaning vestige of his grasp on ‘normal’. He nodded and fiddled silently with his coffee cup. The only thing John could think of to save a bit of Sherlock’s dignity was a stab at humour. ‘You think pretty highly of yourself. Like your wishes could change my mind on anything.’ John Watson; horrible liar. The doctor was publicly known for bending the rules in Sherlock’s favour in more ways than one. But that didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t want to in the first place. ‘You have a real knack for being a prick at the best times, just as you have for being- annoyingly sweet- at the worst.’ And John’d had a good chance at Mary, too. It was almost enough to make John want to punch the taller man- he would have done, too, if Sherlock hadn’t appeared so bloody fearful of John’s reaction. ‘I’ll drop the bear off with Mary, then we can go home, yeah? Bond night, right?’

    You: Sherlock’s head gave a sudden movement, his eyes sliding shut as he let out a slow breath, taking great care to keep it from moving his shoulders too much. He turned, shoving both hands into his pockets, which suddenly gave him the look of a teenage boy, shoulders up near his ears. “You don’t have to, John. Molly’s working until four.” Bless him, he was trying so hard to appear selfless, but it was definitely not working well. For as good as he was at controlling his body, his face was still beyond his control, and there was no hiding the way his eyes lit up, all but glittering at John’s words. “Besides, we did Bond night on Thursday last week, too. No harm in moving it back a night.” It was difficult, particularly for Sherlock, but he found himself actually -meaning- those words. Because tonight had been more than enough to prove that, while John would always put Sherlock first, he wouldn’t do so happily. If a compromise now and then was what it took to keep his only friend from resenting him, then that’s what Sherlock would do. He almost suggested inviting Mary back to the flat for Bond night, but that was too far. Bond night was for the two of them. Moving it back a day was one thing. Allowing someone else to participate was unthinkable. “Tell her I said hello. Or whatever’s appropriate.”

    Stranger: [ ugh i want to keep going but i have class at nine tomorrow. haha. ]

    You: ((XD I have to be up early, too. Do you have tumblr by any chance?))

    Stranger: [ yeah, mate. http://itsadeal.tumblr.com/ ]

    You: ((Woo! I’m specialkrj.tumblr.com <3 You are quite the badass John, if you don’t mind me saying))


    2. 3 months ago 12 notes
    Notes
    1. omeglelock reblogged this from specialkrj
    2. thelastoftheconsultingangels reblogged this from specialkrj
    3. specialkrj reblogged this from muserinastrangeland and added:
      D’aw!
    4. muserinastrangeland reblogged this from specialkrj
    5. specialkrj posted this

About

OK no so basically I am the worst at people, so I will probably either be really stupid awkward or really rude. Or really rambunctious. MY BAD.

Search

People I follow