This little plot-bunny wouldn't leave me alone... :)
The comment Sherlock had grumbled almost two weeks ago whilst at dinner still gave him pause. They'd been at Angelo's, Angelo himself puttering around their table and smiling almost noxiously. As soon as the man gave them half a moment: Finally. Mrs. Hudson's other half is gone. Now John...
And that's where he'd stopped paying attention, frankly. Mrs. Hudson's other half. Mrs. Hudson's other half. And he'd frowned on it for two weeks, until he finally decided to treat Mrs. Hudson to lunch for her putting up with his and Sherlock's comings and goings at odd hours with their latest case. At Angelo's.
Angelo had seen John and rushed to help him, pulling himself straighter as he saw Mrs. Hudson, sucking his belly in a bit. And she had preened and played coy while Angelo had pulled out a chair for her. He watched the whole thing with a sickening sort of awe.
By God. Sherlock was right.
He wandered home in a sort of daze, thankful Sherlock was out. Went to work the next day and was listening to Sarah complain to him about her latest failed date when the idea sprung. He smiled and nodded and then went home and waited until Sherlock was suitably distracted to ask, "Sherlock?"
"Hm?" Sherlock grunted, scowling down the eyepiece of his microscope.
"Why do you think Sarah and me never worked?"
"'Sarah and I?'"
John waited and then rolled his eyes when there was nothing more forthcoming. "But why didn't we work?"
"You're too strong-spirited, John. She needed someone calmer, someone more controllable. And you were anything but."
He frowned. "Okay... So then... Well. Can you give me an example?"
"Someone like Henry Knight would be more suitable," Sherlock droned, cursing as his results must have failed. Again.
John called Henry to apologise and asked if he wanted to grab a beer the next time he was in London. Henry told him he'd probably not come to London for some time. He was easily convinced and then John gave him the whole tour about a month later and they 'happened' upon Sarah in his tour of London. When she laughed at his stuttering jokes, John backed off and played spectator. Sherlock. A natural matchmaker. Too bad he would never agree to it. John smiled. If he knew he was doing it...
"Molly needs some focus," John said casually when he knew Sherlock was preoccupied.
The man snorted.
"Someone else to focus on, you know? She deserves that, I think. After dealing with Moriarty and all..."
"Mm."
"What about someone like Arthur?" he asked, naming a mild-mannered officer from the Yard.
Sherlock snorted, scribbling away in a note-book.
"What? What's wrong with him?"
"Everything."
"Being?"
"Molly needs someone more like...that chap from the case with the poison in the bath products. Peter? Paul? Percy? She's drawn to the different ones."
So John casually inserted Percy into conversation with Molly, watching her eyes flicker with interest. He mentioned the snake club of which he was a member and Molly smiled. He hid his own grin when Molly casually asked, "What did you say his name was?" And less than a week later, he was all she could chatter about.
Before long, John had successfully paired Stamford, Lestrade's secretary, Sally, and even Anderson, and half a dozen other people that he and Sherlock knew of.
"Ugh. What is it with all these relationships?" Sherlock spat quietly as they passed a water-cooler conversation in the Yard. "I'm not going to a pub with these people."
"It's just a little social interaction, Sherlock."
"Exactly." He shuddered dramatically.
"And I know you don't care, but you might come along, seeing as I'll be the only one solo if you don't."
Sherlock didn't say anything, skulking towards Lestrade's office.
Thinking quickly, John lamented, "In fact, I'm thinking I'll just give in with the papers."
"What?" Sherlock asked, not really paying attention.
"A bachelor. That's what they all call me."
"Hm."
"Wonder why I haven't had any luck."
"Because the only person that can remotely tolerate and keep you up and give you what you need is me," Sherlock rumbled, sifting through papers on Lestrade's desk.
John's mouth fell open, but then Lestrade was shouting at them and Sherlock was high-tailing it out of New Scotland Yard, John forced to follow as fast as his legs could carry him. Feet pounding along the pavement, every thud: is. me. is. me. is. me.
And over the next week, every rhythm turned into is. me. is. me. is. me. need. is. me. Until it finally turned into What you need is me three weeks later.
So slumped in his chair, quietly stunned by the revelation, John turned to look at Sherlock stretched out on the sofa.
"John... I can hear you thinking from all the way over here."
"Um. Yes." He cleared his throat. "About that..."
Sherlock let his head loll to the side so he could see John.
"You remember you said... A few weeks back. When we were at the Yard."
"Get it out, John."
"You said that the person best suited to me was you."
Sherlock's brow furrowed. "Did I?"
John swallowed. "Well, yes. You were sneaking into his office? Had been complaining about all of the couples?"
After a moment his face cleared. "Ah yes."
"You remember what you said?"
"About me being your best match?"
"Yes..." He tightened his hands on the arms of the chair.
"It is true."
John stared.
"That's what you've been thinking about?" Sherlock curled a lip, staring back at the ceiling. "And here I thought you were pursuing something useful."
"I just..."
Sherlock looked back at him and his visage abruptly softened. "Ah. Quite right then. No, no. It's fine. You wish to start a relationship?"
"I uh..." He blinked, certain off-guard now.
"Fine."
"Fine?"
"Yes. Though as I've warned you in the past, I'm certainly not the best suited for such pursuits. I am willing to make an exception, however, because I believe the one best suited for me is one such as you, John."
His heart warmed. "O-oh."
"Well done on the match-making."
"You noticed?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes at him. "After the first two, you were hardly as subtle... Now are you coming over here or not?"
John grinned and hurried himself over to the sofa.