I’m putting this here to stop myself from writing the rest of it because I already got plenty of shit to do dammit.
The Straight Sherlock Chapter One
John was back in 221 B and things were certainly different than they were before. For one he didn’t feel the constant need to hover or clean after Sherlock. He’d gotten along for plenty of time without John pitching in to help and John wasn’t about to fall back into that caretaker role. Another thing is that there were less body parts in the refrigerator and few stray bits were kept on the bottom shelf, helpfully labeled with the type and date it entered into the fridge. Sherlock announced very early on that anything in the fridge for more than two weeks could be disposed of by John unless he placed a label requesting an additional delay. John agreed and had yet to have to dispose of a single item—which was good as he can’t imagine how suspicious it would be if he just showed up at the clinic one day with twelve thumbs to put in the medical waste bin. There were other little changes like Sherlock not flouncing around the flat in nothing but a sheet, or showing up at John’s work and demanding he leave for a case. He brought milk, he made tea, he didn’t spoil episodes of television or the ends of mystery novels. Sherlock was there sometimes, gone others. Sometimes they’d share a meal together, sometimes John would join him on a case. They were mostly just flatmates.
There was also one final change that John wasn’t quite ready to think about, discuss, or even acknowledge to himself or others—Sherlock was dating Molly.
It wasn’t that John had a problem with it. He didn’t. It just wasn’t any of his business and he was going to keep it that way. It was fine wasn’t it? He’d dated plenty of women during his and Sherlock’s previous tenure and that was normal. He wasn’t sure why anyone would think it wasn’t normal for Sherlock to find someone really. And when Greg poked John one day and said “So what’s that like?” while whispering and pointing at Sherlock and Molly giggling together over a body, John just said “Dunno what you mean mate” then walked away. He walked very far away.
In fact by the time he finished walking he realized he was about a twenty minute cab ride from the crime scene and he had to sulkily overpay a cabbie to get him back to the scene quickly. No one seemed to notice he’d left, least of all Sherlock. When John finally pulled up in the car, Sherlock simply said “Ahh , John, sorry it’s been so boring just standing about but me and Molls have it in the bag, along with Mr. Greene. So me and her are going to head over to hers for some tea.”
"Sure," John had said and he’d turned right back around and went to find another cab and shell out another ten pounds to get him back home…on his own. And it was fine. It was. Really all John needed to do was find his own girlfriend and have some fun. So he started his search. First off he pulled out the old book to see if there were any potential that he missed in the past. Three continents should be worth some kind of head start when it came to finding a girlfriend.
So he went down the list. When he got to Sarah Sawyer he almost slapped his head. Of course. Someone who knows his life, was interested from the get go, and who Sherlock was a bit jealous of—not that that mattered, just a nice side effect of someone. So he called her up, bit of a punt after not really returning any of her calls after she’d reached out after Sherlock’s suicide, but she was someone he’d have called a friend at one point . Also she was lovely, absolutely lovely. Well worth another go if she’d have him. He picked up the phone and dialled her number, nerves creeping up his spine and settling in his throat. He nearly croaked when he first spoke.
"Sarah?" he said and he rolled his eyes at himself. God what a mess he was.
"Yes, is this someone calling round for school donations? I’m not really in a charitable mood unless there’s lots of chocolate involved," Sarah answered and John could already hear the giggle in her voice.
"Am I to assume you don’t still have my number programmed into your phone?" John asked.
"Am I to assume that you’ve somehow reverted to a 12 year old boy with a croaky voice?"
"I could be sick you know." John teased.
"Mmm no. You sound dead sexy when you’re sick. Voice gets all deep and gravely like Sherlock’s but just a tad hotter."
"Does it now?"
"Oh yes," Sarah said. "So what are you calling me for? To invite me to your wedding? Ahh wait no that was two years back wasn’t it?"
"Sarah…"
"Oh it’s fine. I’m only teasing. How is the Mrs?"
"Fine, fine, I suppose." John said and hesitated. He hadn’t planned on having to reveal sordid histories over the phone. He didn’t know what he was thinking, of course it’d come up. But he just figured he’d call up for a quick chat, charm her, and then get a nice girlfriend round to show Sherlock how not bothered he was by the whole Molly business.
"That doesn’t sound good," Sarah said.
It wasn’t good. It’s not that it ended badly. It started with a spark and ended with hurt feelings, lies, and nothing he wants to revisit. He could tell Sarah that his ex-wife is now living somewhere else with David and their (not John’s) child and John is back sharing a flat with an idiot. But he doesn’t want to even broach the subject because —It’s fine. John is fine. Mary is fine. Sherlock is bloody fine with Molly who is fine. It’s fine.
"I take it by your silence that it’s not something you really want to go into," Sarah said, her voice tapering off.
”Not really, no.” was all he could say. He could go into details but the conversation was already far from where he wanted it to be. He had a goal. Call, girlfriend, jealousy. No wait. He meant call, girlfriend, just having someone to laugh with. Talk about things. Maybe come home to at night and push against the wall, show him, no her how much you want to be there.
"Alright. Well I won’t pry any further. How’ve you been otherwise? Good I hope?"
"Yeah fine, fine. I’m uh back with Sherlock."
"Oh. OH!" She said. "Well alright. I’m glad. I’m really glad for you then. I always wondered. I mean took you both a while but you got there in the end. Really John. I’m so pleased for you."
"Yeah," he said. "Wait what? No. I mean we’re sharing a flat again. We’re mates," John said and the word felt utterly wrong in his mouth. Mostly because it was actually true these days. No one confused them for partners of any kind anymore. If Sarah were around she probably wouldn’t be bringing it up. He smiled to himself at the confusion. It’d been a while. It was silly but it wasn’t a bad memory—people thinking him and Sherlock were together. It was funny almost. But it was a memory of a time long gone. He cleared his throat and added nonchalantly,"He even has a girlfriend now."
He heard a clatter. An awful clatter and he wasn’t sure what had happened. “Sarah?” He called out. A few seconds later she answered.
"John?"
"Yeah. What was that?"
"I’m sorry. The phone dropped. Did you-did you say Sherlock has a girlfriend? I mean I’m sure that’s what you said but I’m pretty sure hell hasn’t frozen over, John."
"Yeah, I know-I know. But I mean it’s good. It is. He seems happy and I-I am happy for him. Yeah." John finished lamely. No one was buying that. Though it was true. It was.
"Okay sure. So, you’re calling to —." Sarah prompted him.
"Ahh well I uh. Dunno. Feeling like catching up with
…….
oh my god I am not writing this anymore. This is dumb. I wrote this in like 45 minutes when I already have a thousand projects….
so we all know how it ends…
DOOOONNNNNNNE
putting this on my tumblr so I won’t be tempted to go back to it.
DONE
I HAVE OTHER SHIT TO DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
and this was dumb