It didn't work, John!

Chapter 4

Everyone stared at John in amazement.
Sherlock was the first to realise
"Snow White!"
John nodded.
"Of course! John, I'm stunned that you've stumbled onto this and I haven't, but, well, when I was a kid, there weren't many fairy tales in my life..."
He faltered for a moment.
Yes, the father had been determined to train his boys, Mycroft and Sherlock, to be tough. Fairy tales, in his mind, were just effeminate. And the mother hadn't fought back anymore ...
So fairy tales were one of the areas in which he was not particularly familiar.
He decided to change that.

Here, however, it was enough to see the connections, now that the keyword had once come up.
"The black hair. The dress. Good looks. And..."
Sherlock smiled.
"...they were both practically princesses. The daughter of the CEO of the company, supported by Daddy..."
"The names," John said. "Snow and White!"
"So what's the next one called? Greg, maybe your people should warn young women with names like Dwarves, Hunter, King, Prince... At least those in similar circumstances."
Greg grabbed his phone and ordered the appropriate action.

No sooner had he hung up than the phone rang. He answered it.
Listening excited, angry, distraught.
"Listen, does this body have a piece of apple in its mouth? ... For God's sake, go and see. I'm waiting... Yes... okay. Thanks. We'll be right there."
"Next?" asked Sherlock.
Greg nodded.
His face was grey.
"And she really does have a piece of apple in her mouth. And her name is Mary Hunter. "

"Greg," said Sherlock, "the stepmother of the first victim. You should interview her. She was suddenly no longer the most beautiful in the country, and the young handsome prince she had smiled at is now engaged to Snow White, who is now sadly dead. Too bad. But it would have been classic if she had tightened her belt too much ..."
"Oh, Sherlock, if only it were that simple. She's got an alibi. We checked the relatives' alibis from the start. She couldn't have done it."

"Okay," Sherlock said, "I'll think about it. Come on, John, we're going home. And Greg... 8 o'clock!"
"Yes!"
He turned and he stomped away with big steps. John ran after him.
"Sherlock? Are you angry that this time I got the big idea?"
Sherlock turned.
He actually thought about it for a moment, to give an honest answer to John, whom he loved so much.
To his own amazement, he realised that a very different feeling prevailed.
"No, John. I am proud of you."
And he kissed John briefly, turned back to the street and walked on to wave a taxi.

A short time later, they were back in Baker Street.
Sherlock was making tea.
"John?"
"Yes?"
"Are you okay with this?"
"With what?"
"Well, I said, I'd like to find out why it didn't work. And I'd like to do it again."
John swallowed.
"So you want me to...? You seriously want me to...?"
"To chastise me with a belt? Yes."
"Sherlock, you're being crazy. I' ... I've already apologised for what I did, and I hope you can forgive me, but..."
He kept quiet.
He knew that sooner or later he wouldn't be able to stand up to Sherlock. The man would have way to much arguments against him.
"So... Sherlock...you really want this?"
Sherlock nodded.
"Fine." John made a decision.
"Then ...I'm going to see how you behave towards Greg and his colleagues tonight and tomorrow. And if you insult me or speak ill of me again, I will punish you. To induce behavior correction. And if that doesn't work, we'll work out a punishment together that might work. Agreed?"

Sherlock nodded.
The whole thing was again a purely logical sequence of actions for him.
There was no emotional turmoil or shame or anything. It was more of a study, an experiment.
John sighed.
It wasn't easy with his fiancé.
And yet... he wouldn't have it any other way, wouldn't trade places with anyone in the world.
He loved Sherlock; he had adventures with him that he had never dared to dream; he felt the danger and felt life pulsing through his veins.
And that, yes, he also felt that during sex with Sherlock, who was so exciting, so familiar and always new.
Stunning.
Yes, that was his relationship with the Consulting Detective.

Well, he would give Sherlock his wish.

He looked over at him. Sherlock seemed lost in his thought palace. Well, he'd probably stay there for hours. He would be inaccessible to everyone and everything until he emerged from there on his own.

Well, thought John, then I'll just dedicate myself to the demands of everyday life.
And he moved towards the supermarket, armed with a shopping net, to get a few things he needed to bring a decent steak with the right side dishes to the table in the evening.
Greg would appreciate it.