Sherlock Holmes was on his way to a therapy session, he had been forced to go by his brother Mycroft after an incident that displeased his brother. The cab dropped him off in front of the building; Sherlock let out a sigh as he stared at the building and then paid the cabbie before walking in. He walked up to the receptionist, "I am here to see Dr. Watson."
The woman quickly pulled up his file and looked it over before looking up at him, "Please, take a seat. He'll be with you in a moment."
She hit the intercom button and waited for the reply before stating, "Your ten o'clock has arrived."
"Alright." He hung up the phone and glanced at the clock; he had a few minutes before he'd have to get him.
He pulled out the folder of information that was given to him at the booking and sipped at his tea. He sighed as he put a hand on the file, staring at the age; seventeen. "What do I look like, a rich-kid juvenile facility?" He muttered.
He stood up as the clock struck ten and made his way to the glass door and opened it, "Mr. Holmes?"
A tall, lithe man stood up, his features nearly incandescent in the halogen lights of the waiting room. He glided towards him and he outstretched a hand, "I'm Dr. Watso-"
"I know." Came the deep mutter as he shouldered past the short therapist and sat down in a chair, swinging one leg over the other and took on the form of someone sulking.
John sighed and made his way back to his desk where he sat down and shuffled through the files before starting his introductory session.
"So, Mr. Holmes, how are you today?"
The brilliant sea-foam eyes pierced him as they stared at him fiercely, "Oh, cut it. We both know I'm not here because I want to be, that I'm forced to be here, and nothing you can say or do will change who I am."
John stared at him and sighed, "Look, I'm just doing my job. What do you want me to say? You can just leave? Well, you can if you want."
The brunette huffed, "Would love to, but brother dearest stationed his dogs at the door to make sure I don't leave."
John cocked a brow, "Some brother. From what I understand he set you up here because you insulted someone of status?"
Sherlock snorted, "I didn't lie, so what is his problem? The woman called me an idiot, so I figured I'd tell her husband that she was sleeping with his best friend."
"Yes, but that was one of the most influential women in England, Mr. Holmes."
"Does that make them exempt from everything, now?" Sherlock sniffed, sulking further into his chair.
John sighed, giving up trying to go with his usual procedures.
"Your wife must not be happy with you."
John cocked a brow as he regarded the snotty-nosed brat. "How did you know I was married?"
"The tan on your ring finger. Just ended, the marriage, did it?"
The blonde sighed, running a hand through his hair, as he looked in bewilderment at the other, "Yes."
"Cheating from the looks of it. At least you haven't fallen to drinking, you just go home and play with your dog. Before you ask, hair on your pant leg and too high for a cat."
"Brilliant." John murmured, a smirk playing at the edge of his mouth, "You definitely know how to make a drab day exciting."
Sherlock cocked a brow in the others direction, "I'm not quite used to people praising me. I must say I like it."
That day, John had thrown away his regular program in favor of actually learning about his patient. A patient he was growing quite fond of.
"It was a pleasure, Mr. Holmes." John said as he shook the others hand at the end of the session.
"Please, call me Sherlock." The brunette said with a mysterious smile before he glided out the door and left the building.
John went back to his desk and sat down with a long sigh before picking up Mr. Holmes, no, Sherlock's file and putting it away. He leaned back in his chair and pulled out his next client's file. He groaned as it was a notorious attention-seeker and complainer. He would give anything to have Sherlock the whole day, even when he was being a jerk, anything was better than most of his clients.
He froze and put a hand to his face as he realized he was thinking way too much about his client. He shook his head and quickly went about making himself tea. Now was not the time to get attracted to clients, he was far too busy and had no room for romance in his life.
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