sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXII

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Prompting Part XXXII

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MEME LINKS
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Filled Prompts Posts: Parts 1-23 - Parts 24+ - Spoiler Free
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Links to previous prompting parts

OTHER LINKS AND AFFILIATES

sherlock_rant: A place to rant about or discuss anything with few to no restrictions.

sherlock_rpf: This is a kinkmeme for RPF about the show.

sherlockcrit: A multi-fandom betaing/concrit community, with a focus on BBC Sherlock.

sherlockbbc: A community dedicated to the BBC adaptation of Sherlock Holmes.
Useful resources for Sherlock and LiveJournal.
Sherlock screencaps.

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(Since you guys seem to be liking this, I'll be making this chapter a little bit bigger this time; this is my first Johnlock, so any pointers are appreciated!

P.S. Is it bad that I wrote this while listening to Runaway Bride? :P)

Sherlock sat at the corner booth of Angelo's, completely hidden by the shadows and doing his best to seem like a regular patron; drumming his fingers against the wood of his table, his mind delving into several problems and analyzes, all trying to keep his attention away from the pair of men sitting just a few tables away from him and the way that one of them seemed to be having far too much fun for someone who was 'still not comfortable about all of this'.

It had been a week since John had agreed to pretend to be interested in Mark Dupree-thirty-three, single, renting a flat on the other side of Baker Street, 6'4", and a rather loud laugh that was currently getting on Sherlock's last nerve-and John had so far been on five 'dates' with the man. It was a study in contrasts when it came to these 'outings'; John would stomp around the flat, grumbling about how the whole thing was idiotic and that he was making a right tit of himself, then he could come home at the end of the evening and hum while he made his tea, telling Sherlock everything that had happened with this... *grin* that made Sherlock decidedly uneasy.

The first time this had happened, Sherlock had questioned John about it and had received a rather cryptic, "He just knows how to get a bloke to unwind, Sherlock, and sometimes I need that after a day with you." as a response. It was baffling; Sherlock had never *forced* John to come with him on cases, and if his flatmate had a problem with coming on cases with him, why had he not said so before...?

Sherlock did not inquire about Mark after that, and John did not offer up any more information, but continued to go on these 'not-a-date' with him, asking if Sherlock had found out what he needed and sighing with exasperation each time Sherlock told him that he needed to keep looking.

It was being to exasperate Sherlock as well that he could not find what he was looking for, as well as the time that John was starting to spend with Mark instead of with Sherlock; it seemed like every time he had need of his flatmate, all he got was a "With Mark. Will text later." as a reply. It was starting to get worrisome, and had led to Sherlock's clandestine appearance at Angelo's tonight to see what it was that was so captivating about Mark Dupree...

John had the uncanny impression that he was being watched all through his dinner with Mark.

He had become accustomed to being picked up regularly by Mycoft by now, was pretty sure that the elder Holmes brother was keeping at least one CCTV camera on him at all times, but this sort of watched feeling had a much more *familiar* feel about it, and if John wasn't dead sure that Sherlock found the whole relationship thing 'transport', he would bet good money that he was in the restaurant with the pair of them.

But that was ridiculous, wasn't it...?

"I'm boring you, aren't I?"

"Hum? Sorry, what?" John tuned back into the present to realize that Mark was looking at him with this soft smile on his face that made John think that he probably missed something important while getting lost inside his head. Putting on what he hoped was a reassuring smile, John tried to remember what his companion was talking about and unfortunately coming up blank, which Mark seemed to expect, if his own smile was anything to go by..."No, no, I was listening to every word that you said!"

"And what," Mark asked, reaching forward to sip his wine in a way that reminded John of a much taller, paler skinned man, "did I say, exactly?"

Once again, John tries to remember where the conversation was going, what exactly it is that Mark was going on about, but his mind is too full of thoughts of his flatmate sneaking out to spy on his date and imagining him wearing one of those beards while hiding behind a newspaper. It's that thought that makes him smile as he shakes his head at Mark, muttering a soft, "Sorry."

Mark just shakes his head and places his hand over John's, whose brain shouts at him that the fingers are the wrong length, and the skin too dark...

I love this new installment.

This story pleases me greatly.

This is great! can't wait for more x)

(You guys can blame Real Life, Job Stress and Turkey Day for the lateness of this chapter. I've finally learned how to use the html thing on this, so plus side?

Anyway, here's part three!)

When John gets home later, Sherlock is by the window, coaxing a tune that John has never heard before out of his violin and John stills in his movements to watch Sherlock play.

It never ceases to amaze him that someone who could turn off all attachment to everyone else and be completely uninterested in human emotion could play an instrument with such... passion as Sherlock does. Then again, he shouldn't really be surprised; he's seen bursts of Sherlock's emotions, how varied and explosive they are, and it comes at no shock that the man that has such a tight control on his life would choose to lock them away...

"Are you going to finish getting ready to retire, or are you going to just stand in the doorway all day?"

John fights down the blush he feels trying to take over his face and makes his way to the kitchen, hoping that he hadn't been caught staring for very long; it was bad enough that Sherlock had him going on these... outings with Mark, John had no idea what Sherlock would do if he found out that his guess at Angelo's was closer to the mark than John claimed.

Of course he isn't going to admit to the guy that he had met only a few hours earlier that he thought he wasn't just brilliant, but a rather brilliant looking bloke as well... especially since the thought threw John for a loop as well; he only had a few moments when he had noticed that he was checking out a bloke as well as a girl, sometimes at the same time, but he had always thought it was just because he was noticing how buff some men were. When he had met Sherlock, when he had spent time with Sherlock, he had spent more time than he was comfortable with wondering if that lean body was as athletic as it looked...

Somehow or another, he found himself living with the man and spending as much time as he possibly could away from the flat in between cases and the experiments that Sherlock needed his help with. After seeing Sherlock interact with Molly, who obviously had a crush on him, John realized that he didn't need to worry; it was plain that, unless it had to do with a case, emotions were something that Sherlock had absolutely no understanding of.

The thought made John a little sad...

So now, here he was, standing in his kitchen with the flatmate he was in, if not love, than serious lust with in the other room after just getting off a date that said flatemate was responsible for setting up in the first place, but only as a cover as he went rooting around in the man's things... John found himself wondering when that had become his life as he called out over the sounds of the violin being cleaned and put away, "Have you found anything to incriminate Mark or his boss yet? This is starting to become awkward Sherlock; I nearly ran into Molly today."

"I'm sure that she just thought that you were out with an old army buddy-"

"Not if the man has his arm around my waist and is in the midst of convincing me to snog him."

Dead silence met that statement, the kind of silence that only comes when the person you are talking to has frozen in their tracks, which-after John snuck a peek to check-Sherlock had done, the bow to his violin hanging limply from his fingers, his eyes fixed on the wallpaper in front of him.

John decided that he had hidden in the kitchen for long enough and Sherlock seemed to be distracted enough by whatever had caught his interest, possibly something on the wallpaper had given him a clue as to what kind of shirt a killer was wearing or something, so John made his way to his bedroom with only the thought of getting some respite from the insanity that was his life now.

He was halfway across the common area before Sherlock spoke up again and so focused was he on getting to his haven of quiet that the question didn't register for a second.

"Did you?"

"Hmm?" John asked absentmindedly, with a look of longing toward his room, wanting nothing more to lay down and not think for a little while, "Did I what, Sherlock?"

"Did you let him snog you?"

Aw, author anon, I am so glad to see this continued. I am still sticking around for next part. Way to go!

Gah, you can't leave that there! :) I need to know the answer to that question too!

This is great! Oh please don't leave it there!

I'm loving this. Sherlock frizzing and then later asking 'did you?' were the best parts.

It takes John's rapidly blinking gaze, almost as if he was trying to send him a message in Morse code, for Sherlock to realize that what he just thought was actually spoken out loud.

He then spends the next few minutes mentally berating himself and finishes putting away his violin, hoping that-in John's current state-the army doctor would just believe that he had misheard his flatmate and continue into his room, allowing Sherlock to retire as well. He obviously needs to rest if he is stating thoughts that have no business being let out into the air...

John, however, decides that he will not go along with Sherlock this time, and asks, "What did you say?"

"Don't be dull, John," Sherlock replies, even though his back is facing John and his heart is pounding in his chest, "You know exactly what I said. Now the real question is, do you want to know why I said it, or are you going to answer the initial question?"

Sherlock hopes that John will just answer the question and leave, brushing this off as simply being one of those odd things that Sherlock does every now and again, letting their symbiotic relationship continue as it has before. The thought of John prying and finding out just how much Sherlock is dependent on the man that was originally only suppose to help him pay for 221b Baker makes the consulting detective physically ill...

He hears John move and his heart drops; John has taken a step forward, weight shift indicates that he is settling himself, cloth shifting as he no doubt folds his arms, and if Sherlock were to look-he can't, not now, not yet-John would obviously be looking at him in confusion.

"Why do you want to know if he had snogged me, Sherlock? Wouldn't you just been able to tell by... I don't bloody know, the way I walked or something?"

The last bit has a tone of affection to it and it makes something in Sherlock tighten as he listens to the only person, besides Mrs. Hudson, to be confronted with his gift speak of it with fondness instead of suspicion. "You have made it very clear that it annoys you when I do that after you have been on your dates... even if you say that these are not the same."

There is a scoff behind him and Sherlock turns, steady, to study his flatmate and determine the answer to his question. John's expression is fond and a little exasperated, but he stands still-arms were crossed and stance grounded-until Sherlock finishes and states, "You didn't snog him."

"No, I didn't snog him." John shifts slightly and the ease that has filled Sherlock drains out of him again as John's expression switch between a few that he can't read before John asks, "Why is that the only thing that interested you, Sherlock? If Mark ends up being the one you're after, shouldn't you be more worried about Molly seeing me with him? She could implicate me, and that would implicate you."

It's moments like this that make Sherlock wonder if he shouldn't just tell John about the strange sensations that hit him, that seem to be focused primarily on the man in front of him, especially when he says something like that. Sentiment aside, John knows that the Work is something that Sherlock cannot live without, and is more worried about the fact that it could go badly for Sherlock instead of the thought of Molly telling people he had been seen with a man.

"You answered your own question, John," Sherlock states, making his way to the kitchen and studying the various equipment that he has spread out upon the table, more to avoid John's gaze than anything else. "If you were seen being intimate with Mark, it would be a lot harder to prove your innocence than if you were just to be seen with the man on what could simply be a meeting with him."

"Says the bloke that wanted me to seduce the bastard in the first place," John sighs, irritation making his voice harsher than he intends, before there is movement again. "I'm going to bed, Sherlock. Please don't blow up the kitchen and try to get some sleep yourself..."

Sherlock lets out a breath in response, seemingly transfixed in his work as he listens to John exit the room, completing his aborted mission to his room. As soon as the door shuts, Sherlock lets out a heavy sigh of his own, slumping backward into his chair and gazing in the direction John just disappeared to.

This case seemed a lot less complicated when he first accepted it.

*squees* So glad you updated!!!

I adore this! Can't wait for more.

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