Loving The Sociopath (Johnlock)

A Chemical Defect

A grin formed itself on John's face and he peered up at the detective, who was currently standing by the window playing his auburn violin beautifully. Once Sherlock had finished, he turned around to find John smiling at him like a Cheshire cat. He immediately jumped into his chair; letting the doctor know that he had his full attention.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes: We have a case!"

Sherlock stared blankly at his friend for a couple of seconds - trying to figure out how he knew his full name. He decided to push questions aside and threw his arms around the doctor's neck, chanting 'brilliant!'. He eventually let go, shook John by the shoulders, smiled and scurried off to his room to get dressed.

John sat in his chair bemused. A small sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he realized what had just happened: Sherlock Holmes, the man that was incapable of any 'nice' feelings (or compliments for that matter) had just hugged him. For the first time in a long while John felt warm and happy inside. In all honesty, he hadn't felt this way since the times before Sherlock decided to go gallivanting around and faking his own death.

Suddenly those lost feelings of depression and longing appeared to be flooding over John's body. Oh for goodness sake John. He's back, he's alive and he doesn't know.

John pushed those horrible thoughts of the past out of his head as the great detective came galloping into the room. John smiled at Sherlock and reached out to grab his coat. However, before he could seize it, his hand collided with Sherlock's - creating the sensation of sparks running down his arm. John audibly gasped and snatched his arm back. Sherlock, not noticing his friend's actions, grabbed John's coat and handed it to him. John discreetly blushed and walked out the door to their flat.

Once locking the door, John managed to catch up with the detective. "You know what this all means Sherlock?"

"Oh yes. I'm back, and I'm bad!" Sherlock punched the air dramatically.

"I hope you're not bad...Mrs Hudson will be furious if Lestrade organises another drugs bust on you..."

At this, the duo burst into giggles.

***

"Suicide. Obviously." Sherlock removed the disposable gloves he was wearing and looked at Lestrade. After seeing his goldfish expression, he sighed. "Look at you lot. You're all so vacant, is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing. Do you not see it? She was 5 years younger than her boyfriend. Not saying that there's anything wrong with that, but remember: she was 16. She was still a teenager, and obviously hadn't finished her exams, as it's only February. 'But Sherlock, she could have just finished her exams' I hear you cry. Ladies and gentlemen: yet another example of everyone seeing but not observing. Come on people! No. She had only just turned 16 as her birthday was yesterday. Oh don't look at me like that! Why else would she be wearing a birthday badge? Idiots. Anyway, her family had high expectations of her future so they didn't approve of her having a 21 year old boyfriend. It's understandable really. Her parents told her to break it off with him, but she wouldn't as she knew they were one-hundred percent in love," at this, Sherlock glanced over to John. Catching his glance, the detective quickly focused back on the crime scene. "-So the two lovers decided the only way they could be together was to commit suicide. Cause of death: drug overdose."

A few officers around the crime scene stared in awe at this deduction, clearly wishing they were as intelligent as Sherlock Holmes.

"You see? This is why we need you. The boys were stumped."

"Well 'the boys' are stupid, Lestrade. John, would you agree?"

John had spaced out from the moment Sherlock had looked at him during the deduction. His eyes were scrunched together and he wasn't paying any attention to the outside world, so when Sherlock had asked him a question, he was caught completely off guard.