Where We Started

Candlelit Friendship

"Found his file, it's quite full if you'll believe it." Sherlock pointed out, laying Henry Knight's file out on the table and letting its contents spill out. There were multiple arrest charges, but mostly for public intoxication and disturbing the peace, probably from his protest and stuff.
"Any address?" Molly asked, looking up at Sherlock with a glazy sort of look in her eye.
"Not that I see." Sherlock muttered, flipping through most of the papers and sighing in defeat.
"Well maybe tomorrow we can stop by the police, they might know." John decided.
"The what?" Sherlock asked.
"The people who, I don't know, protect people?"
"The guard?" Molly asked.
"Sure..." John shrugged.
"It's getting late though, almost six, we've got to get to dinner." Sherlock decided, checking the clock on the wall from where he stood. Molly immediately looked down once again, looking crushed and fingering through the papers again.
"I guess so, but I don't have any money." John pointed out, trying to point out to Molly that this wasn't exactly his idea. He knew it was happening, of course, but he was sort of hoping Sherlock would assure him that they'd just stop by the local McDonald's drive through and be done.
"Perfectly fine John, it's on me." Sherlock assured with a simply charming smile over at John.
"Okay, well, I'll put this away; you two enjoy your date." Molly decided, stuffing the papers messily back into the folder and walking swiftly away.
"It's not a date!" John called after her, but she was too far gone to notice. "Good going Sherlock, she's completely convinced we're together." John sighed.
"Well, we are together, are we not?" Sherlock asked.
"As in, romantically." John clarified.
"No, we're not together." Sherlock decided, but he even sounded a little bit disappointed, the tone that Molly had used when she was talking about Sherlock and John.
"Well she thinks we are." John pointed out.
"Then she's wrong. Let's go to the pub." Sherlock decided, and with that he started off down the steps, jumping down the last three like a parkour master. John sighed, but he followed him down the stairs and out the door, empty handed and only knowing that they had to track down the local crazy person. Sherlock lead the way, hands in his pockets and a slight skip in his step as he walked into the familiar dingy pub. The band was playing once more and there were already men that John recognized getting their first couple of mugs.
"Ah, Sherlock, hello again!" said a happy sounding man, grabbing two meus off of a stack and following Sherlock to a booth near the window.
"Thank you Angelo." He decided, sinking into the booth and gesturing for John to do the same. John slid into the seat opposite, tapping his fingers on the wooden table. Angelo bustled away to the back of the bar where a man was ringing the bell with annoyance, obviously just starting to be drunk. John picked up the menu, craving a hamburger but seeing none available. Instead there were all types of meats, chicken, steak, pork, ham, even fish, all served with sides of vegetables and stuff. John sighed, but decided he'll settle for a simple chicken with potatoes.
"You look upset with me." Sherlock decided.
"I'm just thinking." John admitted.
"About what?" Sherlock asked.
"Home."
"What about it?"
"Everything, everything you don't have here, I miss a lot of things that they just don't have here." John shrugged.
"Well I'm sure we have a lot here that you don't have there." Sherlock pointed out.
"If I wanted stream water cold baths and sleeping in a barn I would've done it, but right now I'd kill for a warm shower and my bed." John admitted.
"I'm sorry that we don't meet your needs John, but it won't be long." Sherlock assured.
"That's just it, what are the chances that we actually get me back home? There's no time travel devices here are there?" John pointed out.
"We'll find one, don't worry." Sherlock assured.
"You're saying that we're magically going to find something that can bring me back to 2015 in this little town that doesn't have electricity?" John asked.
"Yes. What is electricity?" Sherlock asked.
"It's hopeless Sherlock." John groaned.
"We haven't even started to look for it, why are you giving up now?" Sherlock pointed out.
"I don't know." John admitted, but it was true. They were chasing down the one person you should never take seriously as if he would have the Holy Grail to all of this time travel nonsense when he would probably blame pigs or birds or the rock formation. What were the odds that he'd have a time travel device in his back yard?
"Well, just try to enjoy yourself then. I don't want your first official night in 1600's to be a flop." Sherlock decided. "Oh, and I've got another thing that might cheer you up. Since Irene is coming and she scares all the boys in her tow, Mrs. Hudson is throwing a masquerade ball to try to find her a husband."
"As in, Phantom of the Opera masquerade?" John asked with confusion.
"Um, sure?" Sherlock decided.
"Like masks and stuff." John corrected.
"Ya I think so, it will probably help with getting her a guy considering they won't see her." Sherlock guessed.
"Is this Irene some troll?" John asked.
"No, actually in most people's eyes she'll be gorgeous, but I can't really like someone if I don't like their personality, and she's a witch." Sherlock pointed out.
"That's too bad." John decided.
"Have you decided?" Angelo asked, sweeping over to the table like a large, annoying bird. They gave him their orders and he scampered away behind the counter, a bit over excited for some reason.
"What's his problem?" John asked.
"He's always like that, hits the bottles hard before he actually comes to work." Sherlock said simply. The sun was starting to go down and some of the workers were going around lighting oil lamps and putting candles on the tables where couples sat. John was happy for a little bit more light until one of them hurriedly put a candle on their table, scrambling away as if they were scared of the two of them being together, which they weren't. John just groaned, apparently everyone in this town was convinced Sherlock was gay.
"So, in 2015 do they have public schools?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes. But they're awful."
"How so?"
"Well it's just being trapped in a abuilding with maybe two people you like and the other thousand are people worse than Irene, for eight hours learning pointless and difficult information that will get you nowhere in life." John said, not even starting to explain the actual horrors of school, like mean teachers, mean kids, and school lunches.
"Must be better than getting home schooled." Sherlock muttered.
"Who taught you?" John asked.
"My brother."
"You've got a brother?"
"Unfortunately." Sherlock said with a sigh.
"What's so wrong with him?" John asked.
"Mycroft and I had a bit of a falling out after my parents died, about the will. There wasn't much left, but Mycroft insisted on getting the house because he was older, even though it was given to both of us. There was a fight and I ended up on the streets, he closed the door and I never saw him again after that." Sherlock shrugged, poking at the wax on the candle with the back of his fork for some reason.
"You don't seem to get on with anyone do you?" John asked.
"Well, it depends if they're bearable. Like you I'm fine with, but Mycroft wasn't the type you invite over for Christmas Dinner." Sherlock shrugged.
"I'm sorry to hear that." John muttered. "But if you have the brain that you claim you do, no offence but why are you a servant?"
"Because I'm too young and I haven't attended college, some jobs are just so demanding these days, I could do double the work those apes do but they won't let me." Sherlock groaned.
"Apes, as in evolution?" John asked.
"What's evolution?"
"No, it's just an odd choice of words. Evolution is a... movie." John said quickly, not wanting to screw anything up in the whole science division of the world.
"What is a movie?" Sherlock asked.
"It's a screen that plays pictures, like if you used that camera and recorded something you could take a moving picture, and squish them all together to have a two hour moving picture." John decided, doing his best to describe something that you'd have to see to believe.
"Fascinating." Sherlock muttered.
"I'm sorry to say you're way too far back to see it." John shrugged, which kind of made him sad. At the moment his great, great, great, great ancestors probably won't be born for another hundred years, but if he somehow gets back Sherlock will be no more than dust in a coffin, everyone around him would have been dead hundreds of years. Maybe he could find some way to bring Sherlock home with him; they could both go in the device or something.
"Here you are, I see Peter got you a candle, enjoy your meal." Angelo said, setting their orders down in front of them with a smile.
"Oh, we're not..." John started, but Angelo just smiled at him, making John shut his mouth with annoyance.
"Enjoy." Angelo said, and with that he walked away with a little spin.
"Oh don't bother trying to correct him." Sherlock sighed, picking up his fork and flicking the candle wax, now dried, onto the floor and started eating. John started his meal as well, finding that a chicken was just what he needed after a lunch of only bread and an apple. He ate so fast he was surprised he didn't just pick the meat up and go cave man, but by the time he was finished Sherlock was only half way through with his plate.
"So, this masquerade ball, do you think I could manage to slip in somehow?" John asked hopefully, feeling like it would be quite an experience to be part of a 1665 party.
"Of course, I was hoping you would. The Hudsons won't recognize you of course, and even if you do show up they still won't know you're squatting on their property."
"I'm doing what now?" John asked, a little bit taken aback by Sherlock's choice of words.
"As in living without permission." Sherlock corrected, which, of course, made a whole lot more sense.
"I don't have a suit though, or a mask, or money." John pointed out, pulling the crumpled five pound note out of his pocket. "Except for this." He pointed out, sliding it across the table for Sherlock to see.
"Who is that lady?" he asked, pointing to the face.
"I honestly don't know, Elizabeth Fry is her name, I think." John guessed, looking at the woman staring up at them from the money.
"And this would be five pounds?" Sherlock asked, looking up at John with a curious puppy like expression.
"Might be worth something in a couple centuries, do you think I could sell it off for a suit?" John asked.
"You could always wear one of mine, I've got plenty." Sherlock assured.
"You're like, twenty feet taller than me." John pointed out.
"I don't think that's true, at most a foot." Sherlock defended, cutting more of his chicken off of the large chunk in neat, thin strips.
"Exaggeration." John pointed out, making Sherlock nod. It was odd to think that only yesterday John had stumbled into this pub, and now he had made an actual friend and got his temporary life in order, at least until he could find a way back home.
"So, this Henry Knight, do you think we'll find him?" John asked after a moment of awkwardly people watching out the window. The bodies were once again being laid out; John could count four from where he sat. It was awful that so many died from the plague and they weren't doing anything about it.
"For your sake I hope we do, but he seems like the type of person that would be difficult to find." Sherlock guessed. John nodded in agreement, sighing at the obvious truth. Even if they did find him, the odds of him possessing a time travel device was as thin as the chances of Irene and Sherlock getting together.