Heir Apparently

Bargaining Over Breakfast

    When Sherlock woke up on Saturday he felt full of life, full of love. He was so excited for some reason, yet also very frustrated. He hadn't seen John all Friday, and his last encounter with that beautiful servant had been when Billy interrupted them, so he hadn't been able to see or kiss or hold John in the entirety of one day and a couple of painful hours, and that simply wouldn't do. He missed John so much that it hurt his heart, but he knew that he would see him today; it was a weekend after all. Sherlock had nothing to do all day, and he knew that he wanted to spend that nothing with John, somehow. Obviously the servant had nothing better to do.
"Good morning sir, you look rather elated this morning." Billy decided. Sherlock nodded, pulling a brush through his hair while trying to button his shirt at the same time.
"I don't know what that means, and frankly I don't care. I'm going to see John today." He decided.
"Ah, anything special planned?" Billy wondered.
"No of course not, but there will be." Sherlock insisted, sounding as though that should be rather obvious.
"Would you like me to call him down after breakfast?" Billy wondered. "I'm there anyway, I could mention it."
"No, I think I'll invite him to eat with me. That way we can discus with my family how we will buy him." Sherlock decided, finishing up his hair with a smile, nodding when he saw sure that every curl gleamed.
"Do think I look beautiful? I think I do." Sherlock decided, twirling so that Billy could see every aspect of his normal outfit.
"Very nice sir." Billy agreed, opening the curtains so that fresh sunlight streamed in through the windows.
"Alright, I'll go down." Sherlock decided, taking one last look at himself with a smile.
"I feel like nothing could ruin my mood Billy, life is beautiful!" Sherlock exclaimed, and with that he practically ran out of his door, skipping down the hallway in glee. He had no idea what had happened over night, if someone had slipped him a happiness drug or something, but suddenly the world seemed brighter, it seemed more inhabitable. Well of course, he was going to see John, the love of his life, why wouldn't he be happy? John was beautiful, Sherlock was so in love with him, it couldn't possibly go wrong. There was a big bubble of happiness that was threatening to explode in Sherlock's chest, and he knew that as soon as he saw that beautiful servant it would pop. Sherlock got down to the dining room just as the last couple of servants were setting out the forks, something that surprised him considering that he never witnessed them setting or clearing the table. He always just thought it happened. He saw that head of beautiful golden hair amongst the crowd, overseeing the operation but not doing anything to help, looking very upset by something. Sherlock's smile faded when he saw John's face, radiating some sort of fear that Sherlock couldn't explain right now. He walked slowly around the dining room, as if trying to make it seem like he wasn't heading directly for John. No one seemed to notice him, maybe it's because he was absent his cape and crown, but still he thought he had a royal aura to him, a feeling that people sensed so that they knew when to bow. Not that this was a bad thing, of course, Sherlock didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention himself, especially when he was going to talk to John.
"You look upset." Sherlock said in a voice that was deeper than usual, his mysterious voice. John looked up in shock, clutching his hip as if making sure something still hung on his belt.
"Sherlock!" he exclaimed, looking very nervous, yet somewhat relieved.
"John, what's wrong?" Sherlock wondered, tempted to take a step closer yet knowing he couldn't. They were in a formal setting; he couldn't show any signs of affection.
"Nothing of course, nothing. You just startled me, that's all." John assured, smiling up at Sherlock with a rather forced grin. Sherlock's eyes squinted suspiciously, looking at his love in confusion.
"Something's bothering you." He decided. John shook his head, obviously trying to heroically hide his fears from his king.
"Of course not, no. I'm happy to see you though, it's been too long." John decided, brushing his hand against Sherlock's hand for good measure. Although they didn't interlock fingers Sherlock still felt a spark of electricity, something only John's skin provided.
"I was wondering if you'd like to et with me this morning? Breakfast I mean. I want to finalize our decision to buy you from the Adlers." Sherlock decided.
"I shouldn't be involved in that, I feel like they'll be pressured into wasting their money if I was there, a sort of guilt trip." John insisted.
"It's not a waste of money, surely you can see that?" Sherlock wondered, taking the smallest of steps closer fearfully. John just sighed, smiling up into Sherlock's face. He looked happy, he smile, his face glowed, but his eyes, they were nervous. His eyes were hiding something, something that sent a shiver of confusion down Sherlock's spine. Had he been correct, was John not as in love with him as he suspected?
"Please, I insist that you join us." Sherlock begged, looking down at John with eyes so soft they could melt iron. John sighed heavily, but obviously he saw that he had no other option.
"Alright, but only because I love you." John decided.
"You do, do you?" Sherlock wondered, a question that could be teasing. But he meant it one hundred percent literally, a question to debunk the concerns that were floating around in his paranoid brain.
"Of course I love you Sherlock, what kind of question is that?" John whispered, dropping his voice so that none of the servants could overhear. Sherlock smiled, looking down at his feet and feeling his cheeks blush just a little bit. Even the softest, kindest of words from John's mouth could break Sherlock like ceramic.
"John, let's go...oh hello." Greg's voice said from behind. Sherlock spun around with a rather aggressive look, making Greg step back a pace in surprise.
"Hello." Sherlock said flatly. Greg just smiled at him rather timidly, looking at John sideways as if wondering just what he was playing at.
"Hope I'm not breaking up some sort of....important discussion?" Greg wondered, looking from John to Sherlock and back again, looking for an answer. Neither of them were able to conjure up a response so Greg just stood there awkwardly, looking very awkward as he was stared down by the king and his lover.
"I've been invited to sit with the royals this morning, talk about my transfer arrangements." John said with a smile, easing ever so closer to Sherlock as if to try to tell Greg something nonverbally.
"Yes, alright, that's fancy. Good for you." Greg said with a smile, looking like a timid animal as he cowered in Sherlock's glare.
"Well you best be on your way, it looks like everyone's scuttling." Sherlock decided, looking around as all the servants made their way to the back door, hiding behind it and waiting on the royals as they dined. Greg squinted at him, as if trying to decide whether or not it was worth saying something a bit snappy back. In the end he decided against it and nodded, turning on his heel and walking a bit agressivley back to the servant's door.
"That was a bit rude, dismissing him like that." John decided, looking up at Sherlock with disappointment.
"Well, it's true, they were leaving." Sherlock insisted, not seeing the problem here. John sighed heavily, shaking his head.
"Good thing you're pretty Sherlock." He decided with a smile. Sherlock smiled back, sliding his hand into John's and leading him over to the table.
"You can sit next to me here, in Mycroft's spot." He decided, letting John sit very hesitantly in the chair.
"Are you sure he'll let me, I mean...this is kind of invasive don't you think?" John asked apprehensively.
"No of course not, you have my permission." Sherlock assured.
"Your brother scares me." John reminded him, but Sherlock just laughed, pushing the chair in very slowly to make sure he didn't suffocate John against the edge of the table.
"I'm the king John, he answers to me." Sherlock insisted, seating himself in his own chair and starting to serve himself some eggs.
"I'm very happy to see you John, it's been so long." Sherlock admitted. John nodded, sitting at the table without looking very sure of himself.
"Are you sure I'm even allowed to eat?" John wondered. Sherlock set down his fork and folded his hands in front of him, looking at John with such a loving glare he was shocked they didn't just discard their food and kiss each other passionately.
"John, you are my guest, I give you full permission to do whatever you want. You could throw all this food around and I wouldn't mind. Please John, eat, drink, talk with me. You seem off this morning, and I don't know why." Sherlock admitted worriedly.
"I'm fine, just..." John sighed, shaking his head and rubbing his face, looking very upset about something but obviously he was unwilling to share.
"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked softly. John sighed heavily, shrugging and looking towards the floor instead of at Sherlock.
"Nothing, just...there's something I have to do later, that's all. It's kind of distracting me." John admitted. Sherlock wanted to do something, maybe to just take his hand or wrap his secure arms around John's chest, anything to get that look of depression off of his usually optimistic face.
"What would that be? Maybe I can help?" Sherlock wondered. John shook his head with a small grunt of shame.
"No, nothing." He muttered. "Would you like to meet up, maybe seven or so?" John wondered, sounding as if the words physically hurt him. Sherlock was a bit worried; he didn't like to see John in distress, especially when he thought that he might be the cause.
"Seven tonight? Of course, I'm free." Sherlock agreed softly.
"At your room, preferably?" John wondered. Sherlock nodded enthusiastically, excited to finally have some long awaited alone time with John.
"Yes of course, I would've asked you later if you hadn't asked now." Sherlock agreed. John forced a smile, nodding and looking down at his plate, his mind obviously racing.
"I love you Sherlock." He muttered. Sherlock looked at him in confusion, wondering why he would pick such an odd time to admit that. Nevertheless his heart glowed, aching to shoot the words right back at his new boyfriend.
"Yes, John I love you as well. With all of my heart." Sherlock agreed. John nodded, smiling a sad sort of smile and not saying anything for a moment.
"I just wanted to tell you that." John admitted in a small voice.
"And I love to hear it, but you can tell me every day for the rest of my life, we need not throw these daring words around so publically, especially not now." Sherlock insisted.
"Alright then, every day for the rest of your life, deal." John agreed with an even sadder smile, as if for some reason he knew that wouldn't last long. He was being very curious this morning, making Sherlock wonder just what was going on in that beautiful head.
"Good morning Sherlock...." Said a sleepy yet sweet voice, their words cutting off when they saw that Sherlock wasn't alone.
"I invited John to eat with us, to go over our arrangements." Sherlock said simply, looking up at his mother with a sort of 'try to stop me' look on his face. She nodded, looking over at John with a bit of a confused look but nevertheless she took her seat across from him, tucking her chair in and making sure to sit up straight.
"I'm sorry ma'am; I rather hoped I wasn't intruding." John admitted with the nicest voice he could manage. And yet Sherlock could tell there was something wrong, he could tell that John was scared of something, and obviously it wasn't the royals. He was one of the only people Sherlock knew that didn't really care about social classes, so what had him all worried this morning? Was something happening later that he was afraid of?
"Well of course you're not intruding John, if Sherlock invited you then who am I to complain? Besides, we love your presence here." she assured, making sure that she wore an encouraging smile. Sherlock didn't care what his mother truly thought; he didn't care what anyone thought, not now, not anymore. This was all about John; he needed to get things moving if he wanted to keep the love of his life from leaving him forever.
"So, mother, the offer was ten thousand, I want to do it. I don't care if it's out of my own pocket, I just...I think it's better for us and our kingdom if we had John as a familiar face around here." Sherlock decided. John smiled shyly, looking down at his plate without looking tempted to eat anything. He was uneasy, that was obvious, and Sherlock wanted nothing more than to just pull him closer and hear his heart start to slow, he wanted to feel his muscles relax and his breathing steady, to breathe in his scent and feel the familiar heat of his body so close. But he couldn't do that, not now of course, with his mother sitting right across from them and servants probably watching through that keyhole.
"Sherlock you know I have no problem with buying Mr. Watson from the Adlers, I know that he's proven to not only be a good helper but a good friend." She assured. Sherlock could only smile ironically, if only she knew how good of a friend John really was.
"It's Mycroft, isn't it?" John asked, looking up at the queen with a bit of a nervous look. The queen sighed, but nodded, scooping some fruit onto her plate with a large silver spoon.
"Mycroft thinks that we're making this decision purely on our like for you, John, and not for the good of the castle. He's being a bit stubborn, as he always is." She agreed.
"It's alright, I know that you all have much more important things you could be spending your money on, I just don't think it's fair that I can't just quit their work and come here." John insisted.
"That might've been an option if Sherlock hadn't expressed his interest in keeping you here." the queen muttered, looking over at Sherlock in annoyance. Sherlock was a little bit taken aback by her accusations; surely she didn't think it was his fault that John may have to stay?
"I was only trying to do what was best, I never meant..." Sherlock muttered, silencing himself by staring down at the table in shame. "I'm sorry John." he said finally. There was silence, obviously his mother was a bit surprised with how easily he had admitted his wrongs, usually it took him at least a week before he found he was hopelessly out voted.
"I don't want to be a burden, I really don't." John insisted. "But I think Mycroft may have a point, I think I would be a bad investment." Sherlock lifted his head in shock, feeling all the color drain out of his face as he looked at John in horror. Was he saying that he would rather leave the kingdom than stay? Was his love not strong enough to be priceless?
"You don't mean that?" Sherlock whispered, and John turned his head to face Sherlock, looking almost as panic stricken as the king. Sherlock knew that his mother was watching all of this go down, he knew exactly what he was doing by making such a scene, but at the moment he really didn't care.
"I think you'll find you don't want me around soon." John admitted.
"That's a lie." Sherlock insisted. "I don't want to hear you say that."
"Mr. Watson we intend to pay the price, you don't have to be so noble." The queen insisted. John was silent, but he just shrugged. What could he be thinking that would possibly justify Sherlock's dislike? What could John possibly do that would make Sherlock want to send him away forever. Thankfully their conversation was interrupted by Mycroft, who walked into the room and made a very unattractive noise of shock when he saw that his normal chair was occupied by a servant.

    "Mother, there's a servant in my chair!" he exclaimed, walking closer as if trying to make sure he wasn't just imagining this unthinkable scene. Sherlock looked up at his brother with as much pettiness as he could manage, smiling a small, taunting smile.
"We prefer his company to yours, from now on, he sits with us and you are to pour the wine." Sherlock insisted. Mycroft blinked at him, looking a bit pale as he gaped at his mother for help.
"He's joking of course, come sit next to me." she offered, patting the velvet seat next to hers. Mycroft walked around the table, watching John very suspiciously as if expecting him to suddenly lash out and try to claim the prince's throne for himself.
"So, what's the occasion?" Mycroft wondered, sitting very stiffly in this new seat that was usually dedicated for royal guests. He probably would've never dreamed that his own chair would be taken from him by someone like John.
"We were just discussing the transfer." Sherlock insisted, taking a sip of his juice with a threatening smile at Mycroft, daring him to say anything against John's staying.
"Oh of course, the question of the week." Mycroft agreed rather bitterly.
"Do you have a problem, brother dear?" Sherlock wondered with a harsh smile. Mycroft glared at him from across the table, but shook his head, evidently not brave enough to voice his concern while John was sitting at the table with them.
"Sherlock I think I should go." John decided, getting up from his chair in a moment of panic. Sherlock got to his feet as well, trying to block John's path to the door.
"It's alright, it's alright there's no judgement here." Sherlock assured softly, wanting to put a hand on John's shoulder but knowing that his entire family was watching. Or at least what was left of it. John just shook his head, trying to move past him, looking terrified, looking guilty.
"Sherlock I can't...I just...I'll see you later." John insisted. Sherlock dropped his shoulders in defeat, his spirts dropping drastically as John publically walked out on him.
"I'll see you at seven then." Sherlock muttered softly, quiet enough so that only John could hear.
"I'm sorry." John repeated, pushing past the king and walking swiftly out of the door, leaving Sherlock to stand in shame, basking in the judgmental glares of his family.