John had grown accustomed to people assuming that he and Sherlock were a couple, had accepted that there apparently was something about them that shouted out 'boyfriends!' so loudly that random strangers were commenting on how cute they looked together, leaving John to sputter out denials and for Sherlock to dismiss the whole thing as 'boring'.
But this... this really had to take the cake!
"You know I never joke about cases, John, and I don't see why you are so against this request. You've volunteered to do much worse in the past." Sherlock huffed, not understanding what John's reluctance was; he fit the man's prefered companions profile perfectly and he had the added benefits of being an army doctor that could handle himself quite well...
This, Sherlock had firsthand experience of, and it quelled a surprising doubt that this might not be the best idea he ever had. Shaking his head slightly, Sherlock pushed the thought away as a result of lack of sleep.
"That's not the point, Sherlock, and you bloody well know it!" John stomped over to the other side of the most recent crime scene they had been called to look over, their argument gaining the attention of several police bobbies nearby-not to mention that Anderson had this annoying little smirk that John really wanted to punch off the git's face-and this wasn't a discussion that he wanted everyone and their mother to hear.
Bloody hell, this wasn't a discussion that he even wanted to have!
"I need to know what this man's boss knows, John, and the best way to do that is to see what Mark Dupree's files say about him. I sincerely doubt he would be inclined to hand them over, or particularly pleased to see me rifling through his files." Sherlock followed John to the side of the building, taking in the slump of his shoulders and the long strides he was using, as well as a hundred other tells that indicated that his flatmate was a little less than pleased with Sherlock's idea...
Not that he really needed all this information; the tone and volume of John'e voice would have been data enough, not to mention the look he had given Sherlock when he first suggested the idea.
Now, however, there was a decided difference in the way John was standing; it indicated that he was getting tired of the argument and might even finally decide to go along with Sherlock's plan, which should have made Sherlock happy that they were getting out of this dull and rather pointless argument, but instead he felt guilty that those lines of stress were on John's face to beging with.
Yet, he was in the motion of opening his mouth to call the whole thing off when John cut off his apology with a heavy sigh and a gruff, "Fine, Sherlock, I'll go along with this bloody ridiculous idea of yours. Let's just get one thing perfectly clear; I am doing this against my better judgement, and this is the *only* time I am doing so. Understood?"
Sherlock smiled; good, dependable, John. He knew he could rely on his blogger, his flatmate, his... Clearing his throat of the lump that suddenly appeared there, Sherlock followed up his smile with a soft, "Thank you, John."
A little thrown by the sudden appreciation, John found himself smiling back as he shook his head in resigned essaperation. Why did he feel like this was going to end very, *very* badly?
Re: John/OC Johnlock Part 1/?
John had grown accustomed to people assuming that he and Sherlock were a couple, had accepted that there apparently was something about them that shouted out 'boyfriends!' so loudly that random strangers were commenting on how cute they looked together, leaving John to sputter out denials and for Sherlock to dismiss the whole thing as 'boring'.
But this... this really had to take the cake!
"You know I never joke about cases, John, and I don't see why you are so against this request. You've volunteered to do much worse in the past." Sherlock huffed, not understanding what John's reluctance was; he fit the man's prefered companions profile perfectly and he had the added benefits of being an army doctor that could handle himself quite well...
This, Sherlock had firsthand experience of, and it quelled a surprising doubt that this might not be the best idea he ever had. Shaking his head slightly, Sherlock pushed the thought away as a result of lack of sleep.
"That's not the point, Sherlock, and you bloody well know it!" John stomped over to the other side of the most recent crime scene they had been called to look over, their argument gaining the attention of several police bobbies nearby-not to mention that Anderson had this annoying little smirk that John really wanted to punch off the git's face-and this wasn't a discussion that he wanted everyone and their mother to hear.
Bloody hell, this wasn't a discussion that he even wanted to have!
"I need to know what this man's boss knows, John, and the best way to do that is to see what Mark Dupree's files say about him. I sincerely doubt he would be inclined to hand them over, or particularly pleased to see me rifling through his files." Sherlock followed John to the side of the building, taking in the slump of his shoulders and the long strides he was using, as well as a hundred other tells that indicated that his flatmate was a little less than pleased with Sherlock's idea...
Not that he really needed all this information; the tone and volume of John'e voice would have been data enough, not to mention the look he had given Sherlock when he first suggested the idea.
Now, however, there was a decided difference in the way John was standing; it indicated that he was getting tired of the argument and might even finally decide to go along with Sherlock's plan, which should have made Sherlock happy that they were getting out of this dull and rather pointless argument, but instead he felt guilty that those lines of stress were on John's face to beging with.
Yet, he was in the motion of opening his mouth to call the whole thing off when John cut off his apology with a heavy sigh and a gruff, "Fine, Sherlock, I'll go along with this bloody ridiculous idea of yours. Let's just get one thing perfectly clear; I am doing this against my better judgement, and this is the *only* time I am doing so. Understood?"
Sherlock smiled; good, dependable, John. He knew he could rely on his blogger, his flatmate, his... Clearing his throat of the lump that suddenly appeared there, Sherlock followed up his smile with a soft, "Thank you, John."
A little thrown by the sudden appreciation, John found himself smiling back as he shook his head in resigned essaperation. Why did he feel like this was going to end very, *very* badly?