A/N:So I wrote this quite a while ago but I wasn't very happy with it, however I cannot be bothered to write this again and so I'm posting it up anyway. I hope you enjoy this none the less.
John trudged up the stairs, his footsteps heavy as he practically dragged himself up them.
'Jesus,' John thought, 'I wonder if I can get Sherlock to make me a cup of tea when I actually manage to get up these stairs...' He grimaced and tried to move slightly faster, the idea of being able to sit down with a hot cup of tea was enough to make him drag himself up the stairs a bit faster.
A few minutes later John let out a sigh of relief as he stepped over the last step and stood before the door into the flat, he was so tired. Today was one of those days filled with seemingly hundreds of little children who are all ill with a cold because of the recent weather and rapidly approaching winter. While he did love being a doctor, he loved being able to help people, he couldn't help but miss the days where he was needed for some emergency operation or anything that would be more exciting than dealing with snivelling children all day.
John pushed the door to the flat open, the fact that it was unlocked meant that John knew that Sherlock was home, and walked into the lounge area ready to throw himself onto the couch a lie down for days. However when John reached the door to lounge he stopped short as he took in the sight that awaited him inside the lounge.
"Ah John. I was wondering when you would get home." Sherlock said, he was sat in his usual chair still dressed in his dressing gown. No Sherlock was just the same as usual, it was what was opposite Sherlock that made John stop just inside the threshold.
"Oh, I don't believe we've met. I'm Charles Xavier, I've heard quite a bit about you from Sherlock." The man that was sat in John's usual chair said as he turned to face John.
"Right, yes. Nice to meet you Charles." He said directed towards the man before turning his gaze towards his flatmate, "You didn't tell me or I would have bought some biscuits or something at the shops."
"Oh it's quite alright, this was kind of a spur of the moment idea on my behalf. So Sherlock tells me you used to be in the army." Charles said before Sherlock could even open his mouth to retort.
"Yes I did. Sorry, how do you know Sherlock?"
"I know Charles from university, he was the least boring person there." Sherlock replied for Charles as Charles had just had a sip of tea, "He usually lives in the states but he's over for a visit and thought he'd pop by. You don't mind do you?"
"No it's fine," John said, still trying to get his mind around the fact that Sherlock had a friend at uni, "either of you need another cup of tea?"
"I'm fine thank you John. I'm still drinking one." Charles answered.
"Alright, Sherlock?"
"No, I think Lestrade is going to come with a case today and I don't want digestion to slow me down." Sherlock said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly glanced at it.
"Fine, I'm going to make one. Carry on with... what ever you guys were doing." John said as he turned to walk into the kitchen.
'Honestly,' John thought, 'why did Sherlock pick today to have his friend over? It just had to be the day that I wanted to just come home and collapse, just my luck.'
John filled up the kettle and flipped the switch hoping that it wouldn't take too long so that he could just drink his tea and go up to his room and sleep for a few hours.
"John?" Charles' voice was much nearer that John was expecting which made him turn violently.
"Yes Charles, change your mind about that cup of tea?" John said trying to joke a bit, he was starting to get a headache. 'Hope I didn't catch a cold from one of those kids at the clinic.' John thought as he tried to focus on Charles while still waiting for the kettle to finish boiling.
"Do you want me to go? It looks like you are starting to get a headache, bad day at work?" Charles said as he leant against the counter next to John.
"How did you know that? Please don't tell me that you are like Sherlock and Mycroft, I don't think I can handle another person who can tell me everything about my life just from looking at me." John said, he could barely handle both Sherlock and Mycroft, he didn't want another mind-ninja added to the mix.
"Ah, no, you have no need to worry. I'm just pretty good at reading people, I don't know your entire life story. Well except the stuff that Sherlock told me, but that is different." Charles said, "Sherlock ran off yelling something about needing to get some toes, I thought it best not to ask."
"Yeah that was probably for the best." John said as he mentally shivered at the thought of finding more bloody body parts in random places around the flat, he just hoped that this time he wouldn't find any in his wardrobe, that was quite startling. "Well if he's run off looking for toes he's probably only gone to the morgue, he won't be too long. Do you want to wait here for him?"
There was a beat of silence as Charles seemed to think about his options before he came to a decision and said, "No, I might see him later, I'm in London for the week. I'll leave you to have a rest before he comes back, knowing him you'll probably need the energy."
"Yeah I probably will. Has he changed much since you knew him?" John asked as he poured the water from the kettle into the cup and finished making his cup of tea.
'Finally,' John thought as he took his first sip from his cup of tea, 'just what I needed.'
"No, he hasn't changed at all. He still seems to only really have one friend at any one time and he still drives them slightly up the wall." John laughed slightly at this, "Yet we still put up with him, I guess we just see something in him that other people don't."
"Sounds like him, so nothing has changed?"
"Well only one thing really, it's not much of a change but it is something."
"What?"
"He's a lot more protective of you than he ever was of me. He's more protective of you than I've seen him be protective of anything, including his violin which is saying something because he really loves that violin." Charles said as he turned to walk back into the living room, "Anyway, I'll get out of your hair. Can you tell Sherlock that I'm in town for the rest of the week if he wants to meet up?"
"Yeah sure," John said, his mind was still trying to process the idea that Sherlock seemed to care more about him than his violin, which was an absurd idea, he loved that violin, "but you're wrong. There is no way he cares more about me than his violin, he'd kill anyone who even touched his violin."
Charles picked up his coat off the back of John's armchair, swung it over his arm and headed towards the door. Just before he left the flat and descended the stairs he stopped and turned to look at John.
"He does John, I'm good at reading people remember. Trust me." Charles said before heading off down the stairs and out of the flat.
John was stood, still looking at the space where Charles was stood, 'There is no way John.' He thought as he mentally shook himself and moved into the living room. He put his cup of tea on the floor by the couch and flung himself on it in a way that was very reminiscent of the way that Sherlock always performed that same move.
After a few minutes John realised that he had been staring at Sherlock's violin for the entire time, 'Well I guess I could always test his theory.' John thought as he stood up and moved towards the violin.
John looked at it knowing that this was Sherlock's most sacred thing and he was about to touch it and move it just to test a theory. He felt wrong, it was something that just seemed wrong.
'Screw it!' John thought, 'Sherlock shows no respect to my things and he does experiments on me all the time. Why can't I just make him taste his own medicine?'
John picked up the violin from the stand carefully and the bow with it before moving to sit in his armchair. He brought the violin up under his chin like he had seen Sherlock do countless times and attempted to copy the hand movements that Sherlock had done so many times.
After about half an hour of pretty bad attempts at playing the violin which resulted in sounds that could only be compared to the sound of nails down a blackboard John took the violin out from under his chin and looked at the instrument with contempt, Sherlock made it look so easy.
He stood and returned the violin to the stand where he originally got it from and picked up his cold cup of tea, poured it down the sink and put the kettle on once again.
The kettle just finished boiling when Sherlock came bursting into the flat and walked into the living room.
"John?"
"Yes Sherlock?"
"Did you touch my violin?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I wanted to try and see if I could play it."
"I'm going to assume that it did not go very well."
"What makes you think that?"
"Well, firstly there is the fact that"
"You know what nevermind, no it did not go well."
There was a long pause of silence in which John finished making his second cup of tea and took another sip once again realising how much he needed it.
"John."
"Yes Sherlock."
"If you want to learn to play the violin I can teach you."
"With your violin?"
"Well I don't have another one so yes."
"That would be fun."
"We can start at any time, but only when we are not on a case."
"Alright, thanks Sherlock."
"I haven't done anything yet."
"It doesn't matter."
John blocked out Sherlock's rant about how there was no logical reason to thank someone that has not done anything for you. 'Sherlock was not angry and actually is letting me use his violin at some point in the future. Well,' John thought, 'I guess Charles is pretty good at reading people after all.'