SherlockxReader One Shots/Imagines/preferences REQUESTS CLOSED!!

JohnxReader: P.O.'d

Paring: JohnxReader (For the first time ever!)
Warnings: None

A/N: BythewayMaryisn'tJohn'swifeinthisbutisaveryclosefriendofJohn'spleasedon'tbemad.

Enjoy!

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You had just moved to London on the fly. It had always been your dream, so when you had the chance, you took it without hesitation. However, you had no job, no place to stay, little money, and now you had pneumonia. You decided to go to the doctor quickly so you continue your job and apartment search.

You had quickly paid the cabby (you were learning London slang) that had driven you to the doctor's office with the little cash you had left. You sighed, wishing that you could find a job soon. When you went inside, you went up to the clerk's desk. The woman sitting there had a name tag on that said her name was Amelia. She was wearing a low cut red blouse and a mini skirt. Looking to impress, most likely her boss. She's also unhappily married, judging by the state of her ring and the fact of what she was wearing. She woke up late because her hair was still untidy, but had laid out the outfit the night before. No one throws that sort of thing on in the morning. You averted your attention to what the woman was saying.

"Hello. Have you made an appointment?" Amelia asked cheerfully.

You sniffed. "Uh, yeah. I called on the phone earlier. I put my name down as-" you stopped for a terrible coughing fit. "Sorry. I put my name down as (Y/L/N)."

Amelia looked through her list quickly. "You're just on time, Miss (Y/L/N). I'll lead you in myself." You nodded only slight because your head throbbed every time you moved it too fast. "Here you are." the clerk said, holding the door open for you. 

You walked into the small office and sat on the bed thing that they have you sit on. "Thank-you," you said quickly.

"Uh-huh. The doctor will be in shortly."

You waited for about three minutes until a short man with greying hair and a small mustache came in. He looked tired and angry but was kind of cute. Although, he could stand to lose the aging mustache. But besides that, he reminded you of an angry hedgehog. He didn't even look at you before going over to the box of rubber gloves. "Good morning, Miss (Y/L/N). My name is Dr. Watson." You were about to ask how he knew your last name, but then you remembered he was a doctor. Dr. Watson put on his glove, clearly showing his middle finger making you chuckle softly. The doctor looked over at you with his eyebrows furrowed. 

"Is something funny?" Dr. Watson asked. 

You smiled nervously and sniffed. "No, it's just you're a bit P.O.'d, aren't you, Dr. John Hamish Watson?

Dr. Watson's eyebrows shot up. "Sorry?"

"Well, it's obvious that you're angry about something that's happened recently or at someone who has made you mad. Possibly both. You came in here with rage and annoyance written all over your face. Also, you put on your rubber gloves, clearly showing the middle finger, which leans over to the fact that you're mad at someone, not something. But what could anger a steely military man? Maybe it's-" You stopped, realizing you had just said and looked at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "I'm sorry. I'll stop now."

John Watson's mouth twitched upwards. "No, tell me how you solved it."

Your head shot back up to look at the doctor. "Well, the way you walked was so uniform but natural. As if you had trained to did it your whole life. Only people of the military do it in that sort of way. You were an army doctor, yes?" Dr. Watson nodded. "It's obvious from the fact that you work here. I could also double check your military badge hung up proudly on your wall. To know your name, all I had to do was look right next to the military badge at your framed MD certificate from St. Bartholemew's hos-" You stopped for a loud sneezing fit. John snapped out of his gaze to go help you and get you some tissues. "Thank you."

"I'd better do my job, then," John said, smiling slightly. He asked you to tell him a few of your symptoms and do a couple of things for him like cough. It took only ten minutes until he told you that you did, indeed, have walking pneumonia and you should just get some rest and call in sick at work.

You sighed at the results. "That's what I was afraid of..."

"What do you mean?" John asked. 

"Well, Dr. Watson-"

"Just John, please." 

You paused. "Um, ok. Well, John, I just moved here, you see. I don't really have a job. I've been searching for one for quite some time. You wouldn't happen to know of a job opening, would you?"

"Well, I do," John said. "But I'm not sure if you'd want it."

You perked up. "Really? What is it? I'm honestly ready to take almost anything at this point."

"There's a cafe called Speedy's and it just got an opening. I know the owner and I'm sure I could put in a good word if you wanted to go to dinner with me after you're feeling better."

You paused, feeling butterflies rise in your stomach. What? This man wanted to go on a date with you? Even after you probably creeped him out with the observations and knowing almost everything about him? 

Apparently, your hesitation sent the wrong message to John because his hopeful hedgehog face turned to one of disappointment and embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"I'd love to," you replied quickly. "Just, um, here. You got a pen?" John quickly supplied you with a pen as you gently took his arm and carefully wrote your number down on it. "Call me in a couple of days. I'll let you know how I'm fee-" you suddenly ruined the moment by having a huge fit of coughs. John tried to comfort you, but it's hard to comfort a person when they sound like they're coughing their guts out. "Sorry. Just...call me, okay?"

John smiled. "I'll be sure to do that."

I got up to leave, but before I did I turned to John and said, "I certainly hope that you're not P.O.'d at your flatmate anymore, John." And then I left looking to getting better for my date with Dr. John Hamish Watson.

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A/N: So, I've been doing a lot of meeting scenarios lately, so I'm sorry about that. First meets come to my head so quickly but after that it kind of goes into the trash can.

PLEASE give me requests. I'm in dire need of them. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed.

-Kris