Sherlock was feeling antsy, and bored. John had gone to some meeting about how when the snow drifts cleared a little, they would all play soldier and fight the bad guys. “Who cares if demons come in our world, for after all in the grand scheme of things, weren’t they already there anyway?” Sherlock thought. The way John had come to his rescue so gallantly during the sparing incident, yet again was starting to get on Sherlock’s nerves. “Was he getting tired of John? No never,” Sherlock thought. “Was the sex getting old? No, John was always open to trying new things. So what was it then?” Sherlock mused. A tap on the door relieved Sherlock of the idle thoughts that swirled around in his funny little brain like, fish in a tank. When he opened the door, his drug supplier, the small Asian woman stood at the door smiling at Sherlock. Sherlock looked both ways and invited her in.
She giggled as she handed Sherlock a box of needles, syringes, and vials of the green liquid. “I wonder what the chemical composition of the drug is.” Sherlock thought as he turned the green vial around in his hand.
The Asian woman took some of their supplies and gave it to the woman as payment and then she paused. “Are you bored? Because I would be perfectly willingly to do a three way with you and your partner anytime for free. Does that appeal to you, Sherlock?”
She rolled her r’s as she moved closer to Sherlock. “A three way, hmm, maybe that was just the thing he needed.” Sherlock thought as he stared at the woman intently. “Let me see,” Sherlock said as he pulled her closer and kissed her and even though her hands quickly found all the right places, Sherlock felt nothing. He sighed, “Umm maybe some other time,” Sherlock said as he pushed her away and grabbed the box out of her hand.
Sherlock sat in a small, chair made of some kind of bamboo and thought about the chemical analysis of the drug and then the idea came to him. “By God, I will try it out on John and I will monitor his responses. Perhaps, this evening was not going to be as dull as he thought.” Sherlock mused as he rubbed his hands together, but first he must contact the Asian woman to see if she would come back later, once he had done this Sherlock waited.
It seemed as if days had gone by, before John came home. John had barely taken off his coat, when Sherlock jumped up and announced, “John, I’m bored. I’ve called a servant girl over and I want to have a three way.”
John looked at Sherlock as if he had grown horns out of his head. “What?” He asked.
A tap on the door made Sherlock jump up from the chair, “Well, John she’s here. What’s it going to be?” Without waiting for an answer Sherlock ran to the door and let the Asian woman in.
He then pushed her at John, “Okay, go at it,” Sherlock said as he gestured towards the bedroom.
John just stood there looking at the woman in shock. “Um, Sherlock, do you think we could at least discuss this?” John asked as he ran a hand awkwardly through his hair.
Sherlock pushed them both towards the bedroom, “There’s nothing to discuss, you two either get busy or I’m going to leave and find someone that will.”
Once they were all in the bedroom, Sherlock sat down in the chair and waited. John just stood in front of the woman as she seductively took her dress off, once she was naked, she turned around so that John could get a 360 degree view of everything. Her body didn’t turn Sherlock on, but he had to admit it was perfect, the small rounded breasts, the flat stomach, the full legs that wrapped themselves around John’s waist. Sherlock almost laughed at the bewildered look on John’s face as he dislodged her and deposited her on the bed.
When nothing happened Sherlock sighed jumped up from the chair and pushed John down on the bed. “Do I have to do everything? Come on, John.” Sherlock growled as he undid the front of John’s pants. “Fine, I’ll get you started,” Sherlock said in irritation as he spread John’s legs apart further, so that he could reach in between them with his mouth. After a few moments, Sherlock stopped and Asian woman took up where Sherlock left off.
As the woman took off the rest of John’s clothes, he no longer seemed to be shy or inhibited as positioned himself on top of her. Sherlock watched curiously for a few moments, and then he undid his own pants, for he was starting to stick to the moisture that built up inside and beaded out in small drops on his hand. As John, pushed himself deeper and deeper, inside the woman, Sherlock could tell he was enjoying every minute, and suddenly the idea of a three way didn’t seem to be such a good idea anymore and as Sherlock approached the bed he had no idea where he fit in. The main goal had been to distract John so that Sherlock could inject him with the drug. However, Sherlock just stood there like an idiot, his shirt was still on, naked from the waist down, just staring at his erection.
Sherlock looked at the woman and John in disgust as they howled and pulsed inside each other. “Fine,” Sherlock thought as he approached the side of the bed and announced. “John, ready or not here I come.” Sherlock said as he positioned himself behind John and got to work. Somehow Sherlock got through it but he hated the three way, it was so messy and noisy. Maybe it was because he wasn’t in the middle; because John seemed to be enjoying it for Sherlock recognized John’s moaning as he experienced orgasm. Sherlock had no such luck and just lay curled up afterwards on his side. He had almost forgotten the real purpose of this whole act and as John lay there pulsing and shuddering; Sherlock propped his head up on one elbow and ordered the woman to get her clothes on and get out. After the woman left, Sherlock straddled himself over John and actually felt a pang of jealously as he watched John grow soft again. There was something about John experiencing the process with another person that made Sherlock angry. “The least he could have done was to fake it,” Sherlock thought viciously as he jabbed the needle into John’s neck.
Sherlock ran to the bathroom, washed himself up and then grabbed a tablet and a writing utensil to take notes on the experiment. At first nothing happened, John just lay there half asleep, grinning like a stupid idiot. “Sherlock, you have the best ideas,” John slurred as he lay back, rubbing the inside of his thighs.
“He disgusts me, right now,” Sherlock thought and looked away. Suddenly, John sat up and exclaimed, “What the hell?”
Sherlock ran to the side of the bed and took John’s pulse and after he counted for a few moments put the information down on the tablet.
John stared ahead of him and then looked at Sherlock, “Sherlock, what’s happening?”
Sherlock got in John’s face and said, “Something new.” Sherlock wasn’t particularly worried about John, for he had given John a lower dose than he himself took on a daily basis and also the servant woman had assured him that it was safe for a half-human, half demon to take, but the one thing neither of them counted on was John’s past traumas.
For a moment it seemed as if John was high, but as John clutched at Sherlock’s arm, Sherlock began to have his doubts, however like a true scientist he didn’t panic, he just wrote down the events as they unfolded. Sherlock dislodged himself from John’s grasp and sat back to see what would happen next.
“Sherlock, Sherlock, do you see what I see?” John whispered as he stared straight ahead at something or someone Sherlock couldn’t see and then John began to tell Sherlock about Afghanistan in such vivid detail that it seemed as if Sherlock was there with John.
Afghanistan, prior to meeting Sherlock.
John had just finished operating on a soldier that had been wounded in the torso, when he heard the rat, tat tat of a machine gun, it sounded close. He glanced down at his blood filled boots, from the soldier he had just operated on, for reasons unknown to him, blood filled shoes after an operation were one of the things that bothered John the most. An explosion that rocked the tent brought John back to the present, “Jesus, we’re under attack,” John thought as he tried to shield his patient from flying shrapnel and debris. Then another explosion occurred, it was so loud that John couldn’t hear afterwards. He fell to the ground, dizzy unable to move, until the equilibrium in his ear canal straightened out. As he made his way to his feet to check on his patient, John cried out in horror, for only half of his patient lay on the operating table, the other had been blown to bits and absorbed into the desert sand.
John quickly ran out of the tent and grabbed his gun and joined the rest of his ambushed unit. As John fired, he saw men cry out in agony and fall, their terrified eyes full of shock and then even though he couldn’t see them, John knew that their eyes had lost their eternal light and stared unseeing up at the sky, dark, opaque, like cold glass marbles. John started to shout to the man next to him, but his words went unheeded as a bullet ripped through his chest. “He’s dead. He was 26, a surgical nurse, a father, a son, a being that was now as dead as the man John had just shot.” John crawled on his belly to where another of their team was struggling to get to safety, when John heard a ping, ping, and then felt a sting in his leg, he knew without looking down that he had been hit. John rolled on the ground in agony, wishing that nature’s pain killer-adrenaline had lasted longer. The world floated around him in a white haze, sounds far away, life far away, and then no light at the end of the tunnel, no lost loved one to meet him, there was simply-nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing…and then John opened his eyes and there was Sherlock. “Sherlock,” John thought joyously and never knew whether he had seen Sherlock in the world they were presently in, or in the past on another plane when he needed rescue from the battlefield.
A few days later, Sherlock went over his notes about the drug, he still didn’t know exactly what made it work, he had used John as a cuddly lab rat, a means to an end like he had and would continue to use John and others in the future, for he was a scientist-a detective. But he was also something else, he was John’s friend and lover, and for the first time since he was a child, Sherlock was afraid, for he didn’t know how to be a friend or a lover, he just knew how to think. He just knew how to deduce. He just knew how to solve puzzles. Love and friendship and how they made one think and act were aspects of life’s riddles that Sherlock had no clue how to solve.