A Study in Resistance- A Johnlock Fanfic

Chapter Three

When John walked out the door he looked back, memories flooding over him with waves of emotion that he couldn’t quite interpret. He wanted to look up at the window but decided not to, Sherlock, he had noticed, liked to watch from the window as John left. He shook his head dismissively and hailed a cab. As John sat in the cab he attempted to decipher what had happened in 221B but ended up just letting his mind wander about. Sherlock’s face had been ridiculously close to his and all he wanted to do was study him. John loved to study Sherlock, when he had lived at 221B he had spent hours when Sherlock was too busy doing whatever he did when he zoned out, just watching him, committing everything he could to his memory. John had always suspected (and dreaded) that he may lose Sherlock to the hundreds of enemies he made (both solving crimes and just talking to people) and when that happened John had wanted to remember him perfectly. Not in a creepy ‘in love’ way, he just wanted to remember his best friend if he were ever to lose him. [yeah I know my writing is suffering, let’sjust blame my exhaustion] Point is, Sherlock’s face was beautiful. John had never been so close to him, he had felt Sherlock’s breath on his face, his intense eyes, unique cheekbones, and perfect lips. Sherlock was the most attractive man John had ever seen and he really had wanted to kiss him. He would’ve had he not been married with a child on the way, worried that a kiss would ruin their vital friendship, and if John had not been painfully straight. Maybe John hadn’t wanted to kiss Sherlock maybe he had just curious and desperate to end the painful awkwardness somehow. The cab stopped in front of the doctor’s house.

John trotted up the stairs to their flat where Mary was napping on the sofa. Her belly was bulging under the thin blanket that was draped over her. She snorted which put a smile on John’s face. All the thoughts of Sherlock were pushed out of his head, replaced by thoughts of Mary and the baby. He stood looking at her for a moment then put his bag down on the kitchen table. As he was walking away from it his phone started to buzz. He turned around and quickly rummaged through his bag, found his phone and looked at the caller ID. Sherlock’s face glared back at him over his name. John’s thumb moved to answer the call, it hovered over for a second, he then quickly tapped ‘decline’. He quickly put his phone on the table. He just couldn’t talk to Sherlock, he probably wanted to talk about what had happed at Baker Street. No. He most certainly did not want to talk about that, this was Sherlock, there was probably a murder or something. Also something John did not feel like doing at the moment. John, walking back into the living room, stuffed his phone in his pocket and sat down in his armchair across from Mary.

That’s when he realized how odd it was that Sherlock was calling John rather than texting him. Having a mini heart attack, John pulled out is phone quickly. Oh God he’s dying in 221B and I’ve ignored his call! He unlocked his phone and saw that he had 24 text messages and breathed a sigh of relief, Sherlock had texted him he just hadn’t heard the buzzing.

Hello John, can I borrow you? –SH

John I have a case –SH

221B please come. –SH

John? –SH

I finally have a case come, now. –SH

Answer my texts –SH

John text me back –SH

John come to the flat –SH

John –SH

John –SH

John Hamish Watson hurry up –SH

Text me back –SH

Hello? –SH

Come to Baker Street –SH

No go to the Yard –SH

Now –SH

We’re waiting on you –SH

Lestrade is going to make me call you –SH

Lestrade is rushing me and I don’t have my blogger –SH

I’m going back to the flat–SH

John  –SH

Are you ignoring me because of what happened in the flat? –SH

I’m sorry about that I should clean up my mess –SH

Forgive me? I can’t work without you –SH

John closed his eyes. Sherlock had left a message on his phone so John tapped until he was listening to it:

John you know I prefer to text but you won’t text me back and I know you ignored my call. Are you intentionally not talking to me because of what happened in the flat? Come on I know you have your phone on you. John I’m sorry. Ugh whatever.

Sherlock appeared to be throwing a fit. John chuckled, he was such a moody child. Mary snorted on the sofa.

“I should probably text him,” John mumbled.

A muffled “Mmmmnnhha” from the sofa

Still need me?

Yes. I’ll text the address –SH

Putting aside the fact the John had just got home, he happily hailed a cab and was driven to the crime scene.

When he arrived, he looked around, confused. There was no body, no police, no taped off crime scene, just a pleased-looking consulting detective sitting on a bench looking over the Thames.

John blinked. Sherlock hadn’t seen him yet so he had to act angry and hide is bloody smile.