Sherlock Loves John

Chapter 2

Sherlock sits in the back of a black cab, on his way to his new home. His heart leaps when he sees John standing in front of the door with a gold plaque reading 221B. John sees him and knocks on the door as Sherlock gets out.

"Hello," Sherlock nods his way and quickly pays the cabbie.

"Ah Mr. Holmes," John turns to him again. Sherlock melts when John says his name.

"Sherlock, please." Sherlock really hopes John takes up the offer to use his first name. They shake hands.

"Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive." John looks around. Avoiding looking Sherlock in the eyes.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she's giving me a special deal. Owes me a favor. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out." Sherlock explains.

"Sorry-you stopped her husband being executed?" John turns to him.

"Oh no," Sherlock shakes his head. "I ensured it." He smiles at John. At that moment the door opens, revealing an older woman with short hair.

"Sherlock, hello." She opens her arms to the black haired man. Sherlock hugs her quickly.

"Mrs. Hudson, Doctor John Watson." Sherlock presents John as if he were a proud boyfriend, he hopes one day he will be able to present him so. Wait what is he talking about, being in a relationship is too much of a bother. Unless it's with John, a voice says at the back of his mind.

"Hello," Mrs. Hudson greets.

"How do?" John nods.

"Come in?" She ushers the two in.

"Thank you." John says politely.

"Shall we?" Sherlock offers. The two step inside. Sherlock jogs up the stairs in ease. He waits at the top for John to slowly make is way up.

Sherlock opens the door before them and they walk in. There are boxes scattered around the room. John scans it all.

"Well, this could be very nice, very nice indeed." John gives an approving nod.

"Yes, I think so. My thoughts exactly." Sherlock smiles brightly. He is sure John will move in with him. "So I went ahead and moved in." He says at the same time John says;

"Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out-" he pauses when he realizes. His face gets red with embarrassment.

"Well obviously I can, um, straiten up a bit." Sherlock starts to attempt to tidy up. He would hate for John to disapprove of him. Sherlock stabs a few papers onto the mantel piece.

"That's a skull." John lifts his cane to point out the obvious.

"Friend of mine. And when I say 'friend'"

"What do you think?" Mrs. Hudson asks. Sherlock removes his coat and scarf.

"There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms." She smirks slightly.

"Of course we'll be needing two!" John looks affronted by her insinuation. Honestly Sherlock thinks John should feel special for this accusation. Not just anyone would do for an adequate significant other for Sherlock. And now, Sherlock thinks there is only one. And it's the man standing before him.

"Oh don't worry; there's all sorts around here." She lowers her voice. "Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones."

John gives Sherlock a look, hoping he will say something of the matter. Sherlock says nothing, seemingly oblivious to the situation.

Mrs. Hudson walks out grumbling about the mess.

"I looked you up on the Internet last night." John says when she leaves. Sherlock smirks before turning to him.

"Anything interesting?" He tries to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"Found your website, The Science of Deduction."

What did you think?" Sherlock smiles proudly. His deduction skills are something he's most proud of, yet it seems to be the feature that drives everyone away. And the look on John's face causes Sherlock to feel hurt. For some reason he wants John to be proud of him, to find him fascinating.

"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb." John continues.

"Yes; and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone." Sherlock shows off a bit, because why not.

"How?" Sherlock can tell John's interest has been piqued.

"What about these suicides then, Sherlock? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same." Mrs. Hudson walks out carrying a paper. Sherlock looks out the window and sees a car pull up.

"Four," he says as he watches someone, Detective Lestrade, get out of the police car.

"There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time."

Sherlock turns as Lestrade bursts into the room.

"Where?" Sherlock questions immediately. Lestrade rattles off the place. "What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different?" The case is his he knows it.

"You know they never leave notes, well this one did. Will you come?" Lestrade looks at him pleadingly.

"Who's on forensics?" Sherlock asks quickly.

"Anderson." Lestrade answers. Not the answer Sherlock was hoping for. He grimaces at the name.

"Anderson won't work with me." Sherlock despises Anderson.

"He won't be your assistant." Lestrade rolls his eyes.

"But I need one." Sherlock sighs.

"Will you come?" Lestrade repeats his question.

"Not in a police car. I'll be right behind." Sherlock responds. Lestrade leaves with a quick thanks. As soon as he's gone Sherlock jumps up and pumps his fist in triumph. Then he twirls around the room, unable to contain his excitement.

"Brilliant! Yes! Four serial murders and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas." He grabs his coat and scarf. "Mrs. Hudson I'll be late. Might need some food." She calls back a response but Sherlock doesn't hear. "Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!" He grabs a small leather pouch am leaves. As he's rushing down the stairs his mind is buzzing with thoughts of the case. Then he thinks of Anderson.

No that won't do, not at all. He needs someone he can work with. Them he's his with realization. He rushes back upstairs and bursts through the door.

"You're a doctor, I fact you're an army doctor." Oh yes this is brilliant.

"Yes," John stands quickly looking at the taller man.

"Any good?" Sherlock is only messing with him now.

"Very good." John replies.

"Seen a lot of injuries then, violent deaths" Sherlock is making a point.

"Mm, yes." John nods.

"Wanna see some more?" Sherlock smirks.

"Oh god yes," John sighs. "Sorry Mrs. Hudson, I'll skip the tea." John calls.

"Both of you?" She looks between them. Sherlock knows she can tell something beautiful can blossom from this.

"The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on." He kisses her cheek and flies out of the flat, John in tow. The hail for a taxi and are answered immediately.