Where We Started

The Stay at Home John

The next day was pretty much the same as the last, but more extreme. There were so many groceries that both Sherlock and John were toting wheelbarrows, with bags lined up to their elbows. But obviously all of this manual labor was paying off, because now there were brilliant smells drafting from the windows of the house at every hour of the day. They got double the water today since Mrs. Hudson didn't want to run out for Irene, who would most likely leave if there wasn't enough to take three baths a day. Of course that meant Sherlock wanted to screw holes in the bottom of the buckets in turn, but John insisted they had to do their best. By now John was shocked the Hudsons' hadn't noticed his presence, he and Sherlock were hardly sneaky anymore, they were strolling past the windows all the time,surely one of those times one of the family members would look out the window? Sherlock was in the house the rest of the day, causing John to sit around most of the day, wishing for something to do other than sit around while everyone else worked. He felt useless, but then again it's not like he had anyone to boss him around. So John got off of the chair he had been calling home for a good hour and looked through the cabinets, maybe there was something he could use to make dinner. Sherlock had a coal stove that was full and ready for lighting, and John managed to find some pasta sitting in the back of the cabinet.So he filled up a pot with water they had just retrieved, getting it to a boil on the stove and adding the pasta, watching it cook and feeling strangely proud of himself. He wasn't completely worthless, and now Sherlock didn't have to bother himself with cooking after the difficult day they've both had. When the noodles were done John proceeded to chopping up tomatoes, onions, and garlic,mixing them all in a pot to make a good looking sauce, and then loaded two plates with his delicious smelling creation. After smelling fresh baked breads, meats, and deserts from the house, it was nice to be able to eat something. He set the two plates at the dining room table, which had been unrecognizable before he cleared it of all the books and papers cluttering it. He noticed the book Molly gave them was propped open, and there were multiple notes taken on possible ways to get John home. He shut the book, not wanting to think of that at the moment, this was actually something he was proud of, he made dinner, and he didn't need to think about things like leaving. Sherlock walked in not long after, just as John was trying to dump the water from the pot into the tub near the window. Sherlock looked, if possible, worse than yesterday, but a wave of relief washed over his face when he saw dinner on the table. "John Watson I could kiss you." He decided, sinking into a chair with a groan. "Please don't." John answered with a laugh, abandoning the pot he was obviously going to spill all over the floor and joining Sherlock at the table. "That was the worst day I have ever spent in that house. Everything has to be perfect for Irene, absolutely perfect.The maid has been working nonstop, she almost passed out." Sherlock groaned, picking up his fork.
"Well I'm glad you didn't have to trouble yourself with cooking for me." John agreed as they both started to eat. Simply pasta sauce tasted a whole lot better when he had cooked it himself, and not just managed to open a can. But there was also the fact that they were homegrown tomatoes, freshly cooked pasta, and fresh water. Everything around here was so pure it made the processed foods of 2000's look like a joke.
"This is brilliant, where did you even learn to cook?" Sherlock asked in awe, making John smile modestly.
"It's not rocket science." He debated, but took the complement to heart.
"You should see some of the food Mrs. Hudson is preparing, that is definitely rocket science." Sherlock debated, twirling pasta onto his fork with some difficulty.
"So this is the last night of peace until the monster comes." John pointed out.
"Unfortunately yes." Sherlock agreed.
"Oh whatever, we'll be fine." John assured.
"What if she finds out about you? What if she tells the Hudsons?"
"They won't shoot me right?" John asked nervously.
"I really can't answer that without doubting myself." Sherlock admitted.
"Brilliant." John muttered.
"I won't let them shoot you though, he might try, but he won't shoot you without having to go through me." Sherlock assured.
"I swear if you sacrifice yourself to save me I will kill you." John threatened, pointing his fork at Sherlock as a warning.
"I have a feeling you won't have to." Sherlock pointed out.
"That's not what you're supposed to say, you're supposed to laugh and say that I'm not worth your life and that you'd never do something so stupid!" John defended, but he knew those words would never be said by Sherlock.
"Then I'd be lying, because I would willingly give my life for you to live."Sherlock assured, all the joking out of his eyes, dead serious now.
"Sometimes you scare me Sherlock." John shrugged, going back to his food. "If it's any conciliation though, if there's enough time to jump in front of a bullet then there's enough time to move out of the way."
"Then I'd just push you."
"Not if I drop first." John defended. "But I would take a bullet for you as well, I hope you know that." Sherlock immediately went red, looking down in his pasta with embarrassment, mumbling something along the lines of 'you better not'. John just smiled at Sherlock's cute little insecurity, his small smile, his blushing, shut up John, shut up stupid part of John's mind. Not cute definitely not cute. The two sides of his brain were now bashing at each other's heads, torn between liking Sherlock and wanting nothing to do with him. When dinner was finished (down to the last drop of sauce) they cleaned up, washing the dishes and cleaning off the table. For what felt like the first time since he got here, John felt properly full, and not just of the same bread and cheese from the last couple of days.