HI THERE! Well, I was asked if I could write a short little thing about John, and I'm not sure if this was what you expected, but here you go anyway! Bear in mind, I have never written anything with Sherlock, so... I hope you guys like it! Reviews are golden!
DISCLAIMER: Although strongly regretted, I do not own Sherlock, nor the characters on it. But I do thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Steven Moffat for letting me take them for the weekends.
It is the night before you have to go to Afghanistan with the army. You decide to go into the café just down the street from where you are staying.
When you arrive, you sit down at a table and order a nice warm tea, your favorite kind, before you begin to read a book you had brought.
After a while, you feel a tingle in the back of your mind... you know, like you're being watched?
You look around and finally spot a man staring at you, before he quickly looks away. You think you see him smile to himself.
He walks over to your table.
"I must apologize, you looked so infatuated with that book. One of my favorites, really." He spoke in his baritone voice.
"Would you like a cup of tea, so that we may discuss it?" You say, already enjoying the man's company.
You noticed that he has the most beautiful eyes, and curly hair you just want to reach out and touch...
Wait, what are you doing? You are a straight man who is going to war. You are not gay.
You talked for around half an hour, before the man had to leave.
You realized you didn't get his name.
Oh well.
-YEARS LATER-
You are back from war, and are looking for a place to live. You run into an old friend, Mike Stamford.
You get to talking, and he has an idea of a possible flatmate. He takes you to a lab, and you see someone who looks strangely familiar to you.
"Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?"
Yes. The same deep voice. He has got to be the man from the last night you were here. A small, barely noticeable ghost of a smile passed his lips.
"One silly little question first," He asked. "What's your favorite book?"