One-shots/Short Stories

BBC Sherlock

A/N: I haven't done Sherlock one-shots in ages. . .

Blind Love
Sherlock was walking around London, for once not on a case or doing an experiment. For some reason, he felt quite lonely. I mean, it's been more than a couple of months since John has developed a new life with Mary and their newborn baby, but Sherlock felt alone in the world again before he ever met John Watson.
   He decided to go to Hyde Park, and sit on a bench to deduce people. While deducing people as he went by to reach his destination, he was suddenly pulled to a stop when he crashed into someone.
   "Watch where you're going!" Sherlock snapped, dusting himself off. He heard a woman laugh sarcastically in front of him.
   "I would love to watch where I am going, but the thing is. . .I am blind." Sherlock blinked, staring at the woman in front of him. She wore big sunglasses that covered her eyes, a fedora on her head, her hair naturally brown and wavy, wearing a white sundress that went to her knees. He then noticed the special walking stick for blind people in her right hand.
   "I'm sorry." he found himself saying. For bumping into her or because she was blind? "For bumping into you. I should have watched where I was going."
   "It's okay, I guess." she then moved around him. "Well, goodbye -"
   "Wait," he grabbed her arm quickly, "where are you off to -? Never mind, you're going to the library - let me come with you."
   "How did you -?"
   "You're holding books that are from the library and are due today. Why do I know you're going there now? Because I just went past a small library that has the same brand on the books you're holding."
   "Fascinating." she murmured.
   "Really?" Sherlock thought of the times John would say similar things.
   "Really." she nodded. "Sure, you can company me - besides, I lost count on my footsteps, I need to have someone lead me now."

***

"You memorised the amount of footsteps needed to reach places?" Sherlock asked curiously, watching her walk around the library slowly.
   "Of course." she said quietly. "This is the only way for me to walk around."
   "Don't you have anyone to help you?"
   "No," she shook her head, "all family are dead. It's just me."
   "Friends?"
   "Who would want to befriend a blind person? That's charity work." Sherlock frowned at her answer. She's been living in London all by herself with no one to look after her?
   "It's quite impressive to see you survive this long without help." Sherlock said quietly.
   "It is." she agreed, her fingers lightly brushing against the Braille books.
   "If I may ask. . .were you born blind?"
   "No, recently - two years roughly." she answered. "You know that apartment building that exploded?"
   "Yes." Moriarty blew it up.
   "I was a couple storeys bellow it. When it activated, it didn't cause much harm to me, but it made me bang my head on a certain part that made me blind." She took an intake of breath quietly. "And there is no cure." It was silent between the two.
   "I'm sorry." he said quietly. She turned to him curiously.
   "You don't have to -"
   "No, I do." Sherlock cut her off. "It's my fault you are blind now." She was quiet. "I knew the person who triggered the bomb - it was a game for him. If I solved the case on the designated hours given, no harm will be done. But I stalled. I thought I had the upper hand, so I took my time. But then the victim started describing the man, and that made him blow up the building." Sherlock winced when he realised something. "The victim was a blind old woman."
   She stayed silent for a while, her hand still on a book she was reading. He expected her to flip out; yell at him, call him rude stuff and storm away (without tripping or bumping). But she didn't. Instead, she took in a deep breath, and turned to him asking one question that surprised him.

"So you learnt your lesson then, yes?"

"Y-yes." Sherlock stuttered, blinking quickly. "Don't act smug when you think you're about to win."
   "Good." she smiled.

SLAP!

"Sorry." she winced, shaking her hand. "Needed to at least do something for the bombing."
   "I understand." Sherlock moved his jaw around, surprised at how strong the slap was. "Nice slap."
   "Thanks." she grinned.

***

Ever since that day, Sherlock was drawn to her. He wanted to get to know her - without his deductions. She was fascinating; the way she handled everyday life without sight, how she could hear better than others, as well as smell.
   It was the same for her; she found Sherlock fascinating. With his deductions and his intellect - and his baritone voice. . .he could read the dictionary and still make it sound interesting.
   Sherlock stood at his window; composing a song to a specific woman - no, not The Woman. He's over her.
   John entered the flat during his composing, and raised an eyebrow at his back. Usually when he entered, Sherlock would either be doing an experiment, be busy on a small case, or in his Mind Palace. Seeing him composing was something he hasn't seen in a while. However, John hasn't seen Sherlock for roughly a month now because he's been overseas for military reunions and seeing distant relatives.
   "Feeling inspired?" John made his presence known. Sherlock hummed, writing down a few notes.
   "Very." he responded. "It needs to be perfect."
   "Interesting. . ." John nodded, sitting down in his trusty old armchair. "Let me hear what you got."
   Sherlock sent him a look that seemed like he was offended. "No-no." he shook his head. "It's not done yet."
   "You're really keeping it a secret." John noted thoughtfully. He grinned when he realised why. "You met a woman."
   "What?"
   "You, my friend, met a woman." John smiled in disbelief. "Who is she? When did you two meet? Is it someone I know? Is she smart like you - oh god, two Sherlocks." John shivered at the thought. Sherlock stared at him with a blank face.
   "You done now?" he asked him. John nodded sheepishly. "I met her during a walk around London at Hyde Park. We met one month, and two days ago. It's someone you don't know. You could say she's quite smart - not as smart as me though. . ."
   "Huh," John nodded, "interesting. When can I meet her?"
   "Meet her?" Sherlock looked at him confused.
   "Of course! I need to meet Sherlock's girlfriend - as in, an actual girlfriend. Not just someone for a case." John remembered Sherlock using Janine for Magnussen.
   "Girlfriend?" Sherlock stared at John as if he was crazy. "We're not together."
   "What?" John frowned. "But -"
   "You misunderstood me." Sherlock interrupted. "Yes, this song is about her, but it doesn't mean that we're together."
   "Oh. . ."
   "Now, about meeting her. . ." Sherlock glanced to his watch. "She'll be coming in five minutes."

***

"Ooh! Hello again, Daisy!"
   "Hello, Mrs Hudson."
   "Here for the daily visit?"
   "Of course."
   "I'll just leave you to it then." John turned to Sherlock with a grin.
   "Is this her?"
   "Of course." Sherlock nodded, making his way to the door, fixing the lapels of his jacket while doing so. He opened the door just in time for her to arrive on the final step. "Miss Spring."
   "Sherlock." Daisy smiled at him, wrapping her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. Sherlock held her back, face buried in her hair.
   John watched the scene quietly. Even though they weren't together, he could see that they want to. He may not be smart like Sherlock, but he was smart around the emotional part of the business. And John could see that they both fallen in love with each other but are too stubborn to say it out loud to one another.

Classic.

"Daisy," Sherlock cleared his throat, pulling away from her, "I'd like you to meet my friend, Doctor John Watson."
   John walked up to them, hand out ready to shake. "Hello, I'm John -" He froze when he saw the special walking stick beside her. "You're blind?"
   "John!" Sherlock whacked him behind his head.
   "Sorry, sorry. . ." John winced. "Just. . .Sherlock has spoken about you, but he never told me that. . ."
   "That I'm blind?" she smiled in his direction, sunglasses hiding her eyes. He only just noticed that she wore them indoors. "It's okay. Sherlock tends to forget small things like that."
   "It feels like you're not blind though when we hang out." Sherlock shrugged. Daisy blushed at the compliment, John staring at Sherlock with an impressed look on his face.
   He had an inkling that soon they'd get together if Sherlock kept acting like that.

He was so going to tell Mary what's been happening the past month and three days.

And knowing Mary, she'd start making bets on them. . .that John will willingly participate in, because he's a good friend like that.

The End