Hi y'all! This is just a oneshot, kind of crack, as in it is just for fun and an idea I had and I wanted to put it out there :)
So, crossover between Sherlock and the Office, you don't really need to have watched both, although it will make a lot more sense to have watched both. Really, like I said, bit of fun and just for laughs, even if it hasn't quite turned out as funny. If you want to understand the Office parts, but haven't watched the season, watch season 1 episode 4 to understand.
I don't own The Office (UK) or Sherlock, they belong to their respective owners.
This contains an established relationship between Sherlock and John, it may not be your cup of tea, but it is truly just for me to use as an excuse for John to go into hiding. It's nothing explicit or even obvious, but yeah.
Enjoy :) Please review, I like to know what people think of my writing, so I can improve for the future...as cheesy and cliche as that sounds.
"He's not going to stop."
The words were whispered in the dark flat, from the mouth of one to the ears of the other.
John gently stroked Sherlock's cheek. "I know, I'm fully prepared to do whatever is necessary to protect you Sherlock. You'll stop him."
Sherlock shook his head, invisible in the dark, but John felt the movement through the pillow and on his hand. "I can't do it while worrying about you. He'll use you against me given the chance."
"I'm not leaving you."
"John."
"No. I refuse to leave you alone to face him." John was adamant. He sighed and his voice was softer, "Sleep Sherlock, I'm sorry, but I can't leave you, so put it out of your mind."
A month later
When John woke up, he found himself in the hospital, with a cast on his arm and his leg, multiple cuts and bruises and missing memories. He could vaguely remember being taken to see Moriarty from his workplace, but after that, nothing.
"John," Sherlock's grey-blue eyes were wide with panic and relief.
"What happened?" John croaked.
"We found you unconscious, when we raided Moriarty's safe-house. That was three weeks ago."
The doctors and nurses came in to check on him.
When they all went, Sherlock gripped John's hand tightly.
John studied his lover, "Sherlock,"
"I told you. I told you he would use you." Sherlock spoke, his voice taking on a whining tone almost, as if he was a child, complaining of something going wrong that he had known would happen.
John was silent for a few moments, before sighing and rubbing his eyes with his good hand tiredly. "Would it really put you at ease, for me to go into hiding? You wouldn't be around for me to look after you, and you wouldn't be there to look out for me."
"But you'd be safe. Mycroft will set it up, keep an eye on you." Sherlock argued.
John stared at his lover, taking in the pale skin, dark bags under eyes, bloodshot eyes and his even more apparent thinness. John watched as Sherlock reached up to push John's hair off his forehead. His hand was shaking slightly.
"I won't be able to talk to you, or even see you." John pointed out, "I'd never know if something had gone wrong, you'd never know if something went wrong. We'd worry more apart then together."
"But I know you'll be safe. At least, more safe until I can take down Moriarty."
John shut his eyes and let out a long sigh, "I'm going to regret this, but fine, I'll do it."
Sherlock smiled at him. A rare occurrence, and it brightened his face with relief. "Thank you John."
"Better not take too long, otherwise I'll have to come and kill the bastard myself."
Some minor surgery to remove a wrinkles and lines from his face and growing his hair out caused the army doctor to appear many years younger. Mycroft had organised the whole situation, and was housing him with two people Mycroft trusted to not betray John. His new name, personality, dreams, aspires, job and hopes were handed to him in a file, which he spent hours reading over, doing his best to become Tim Canterbury.
His first day at his new job was unbearably boring, but he had promised Sherlock, so he gritted his teeth and stuck to it, keeping himself sane purely by pulling pranks on the man he sat opposite to. His boss was the biggest culprit, so he knew he could get away with it, and he needed something to alleviate the boredom.
Four years in, and there had been no word about Sherlock, Moriarty or even Mycroft. John felt very out of the loop, and it showed at work, he was coming across more depressed and less of a jester. His role in the Slough branch of the Wernham Hogg Paper Company was as a sales rep. He talked to customers on the phone and stuff like that. Boring.
Dawn was the only one who really expressed concern over his change in state, but a few sad smiles and stories of unlived dreams placated her.
John stared at his screen, typing slowly as Gareth walked in, and stopped behind John.
"That's just not funny. Where's my stuff? How'd you hide a desk?" Gareth whined, at the sight of his missing desk and belongings.
"I don't know what you're talking about." John insisted, the smirk on his face barely obvious. Dawn was watching from reception and was trying not to laugh. Everyone else around the office was watching with open amusement, having seen Tim moving the desk earlier.
"Tim, please, I don't even know how you managed to move the desk without hurting yourself, or where you put it, but give it back." Gareth pleaded.
"I didn't move it. It wasn't me." John repeated, openly grinning at the man now.
Gareth groaned and stormed off to look for his desk and belongings. Dawn came over from reception and helped John move the desk and computer back, as John dumped the paper work and items back in place. They both returned to their desk, seconds before Gareth returned.
"Oh, come on guys, that wasn't even funny!" He complained, sitting down at his desk.
"It was a bit." John corrected.
"No it wasn't." Gareth repeated.
The pair was silent for a bit, each working on their computer, until John said, "It was, funny, that is."
"No it wasn't!"
"Was!"
"Wasn't!
"Was!"
"Wasn't!
"Was!"
"Wasn't!
"It was a little amusing." Dawn broke the argument.
John grinned at her for being on his side then pulled a face at Gareth.
Gareth ignored him, sulking.
John turned back to work, and tediously typed out his reports, while waiting for the phone to ring. The ache of boredom was already set in for the day, and the ache of missing Sherlock was growing with each day. He had no way of knowing if how Sherlock was, or what he was doing, or anything, he could only hope and wish Mycroft would come tell him when something happened.
He got his wish four years, 7 months, 2 weeks and 3 days after he became Tim Canterbury. In that time he grew close with some of the office workers, and pranked others. He was bored with his life, but he'd promised Sherlock he'd stay safe.
David Brent, the boss, was having a mandatory staff motivational training, thing. It was going to absolutely boring and horrible and torture, but a necessary evil.
He sat patiently through the introduction, the video and the role play. His leg began shaking up and down. He glanced at Dawn who was struggling not to cry, and frowned, annoyed with her fiancé for upsetting her. Everyone assumed he was pining after her, and to be truthful, he played it up a bit because, seriously, four years without a relationship would be suspicious, but if he was pining after someone, then it became understandable.
"Ok, Gareth, quick trust exercise," the man in charge began, as Gareth re-entered the room, "What's your ultimate fantasy?"
"We're all doing it," David cut in, prompting Gareth to talk.
"Two lesbians, probably, sisters. I'm just watching."
There was an awkward silence as everyone stared at the man in shock and slight disgust.
John was struggling not to laugh.
"OK." Rowan, the guy running the session turned to Tim, "Um, Tim, do you have one?"
A thousand responses ran through his head. Moriarty to be dead, Sherlock to be back, the pair of them safe, being able to return to 221B Baker street, Harry to stop drinking, to get back to work with Sherlock. So many dreams and fantasies.
"You know," John began, "I never thought I'd say this, but can I hear more from Gareth, please?"
David began playing his guitar that he went home to get, and John wanted to scream. This guy was so frustrating, he had no idea of work and just laughed and joked and pranked everyone.
An hour later, after they had stopped for lunch, they returned. John was standing by the window, watching the rain outside, watching the figures outside scurrying back and forth on the pavement, eyes automatically comparing each figure to Sherlock to see if any could be him. Seven of the fifteen he saw could've been Sherlock. They all walked past the building though, not one stopped.
He turned and sat back down along with everyone else.
"Right, this next exercise is all about forward planning and team work. And I'm going to need to put you into pairs for this."
John suppressed a groan as he was paired with Gareth. A low, "Oh god," slipped out.
"Well alright, smart arse, I wouldn't want to be stuck in a situation with you either." Gareth muttered.
The situation was rather simple, and easy to fix. Gareth was being difficult.
"Well this is stupid, get his wife to help." Gareth suggested.
"He hasn't got a wife."
"All farmers have wives."
"Not this one, he's gay."
"Well then, he shouldn't be around animals."
John frowned at that, slightly insulted, but not really, because well, it's Gareth.
Five minutes later, and Rowan revealed the answer, to which Gareth began questioning.
'God, hurry up Sherlock, or I can't be held accountable for my actions.' John thought, feeling the cool metal of his gun dig into his back and he settled back in his chair. His loosely tucked in shirt hid the line of the weapon, and he was much happier with it on his person.
Before Gareth could even get through his first question, a loud bang just outside the door interrupted him, and eight men burst through the door, wielding guns and yelling orders.
"Get on the floor!"
"NOW!"
Everyone began screaming at the start, but the smarter people (aka John, Dawn and Rowan) lowered themselves to the floor, laying down and initiating everyone else to do the same. Soon only Gareth remained in his chair, yelling back, until John yanked on his arm and pulled him down.
"Shut up Gareth."
"All of you are going to move to the wall, one by one, slowly. No talking, got it?" the leader ordered. "You first." He nudged Dawn, who got onto her hands and knees and crawled to lean against the wall.
Slowly, all the people in the room were against the wall, and only Gareth was trying to be an idiot.
"Listen here, you can't do this." Gareth began.
The leader slammed the but of his gun into the side of Gareth's head. "I said no talking." He screamed.
Dawn let out a scream as well, shocked at the sight of Gareth falling to the ground, head beginning to bleed. John waited until the men had turned away and had pulled the man back, closer to the well. John slipped his tie off and bunched it up, pressing it against the bleeding wound and resting Gareth's head on his leg. No one else spoke.
"Now, listen up. We've got orders from our boss to figure out which one of yous is John Watson, and then blow him sky high. The rest of you will be free to go, unharmed, unless you try funny business like that idiot." The man gestured to Gareth. "So, which one of yous is him?"
No one spoke.
"I ASKED A QUESTION!" the leader screamed.
No one spoke still.
"Fine, we'll do this the hard way." The leader muttered, pointing the gun at David, "Name?"
"D-Da-David Br-Brent." David stuttered.
The leader went through every man, and John made sure to keep his voice high-pitched, breathy and obviously terrified.
"Well, one of yous is lying." The leader sighed, when he had been through all the men. "I'll give you five minutes to rethink your answer, then I start shooting the women."
John stayed quiet, thinking his options through. Gareth was out cold, the other men wouldn't fight if John started it; he knew that.
"Boss, we found this guy lurking around outside." Another man entered the room, pushing Lee in with a gun.
"Put him with the others." As Lee was pushed forward, John met his eyes and hoped desperately that the guy would get the message.
John pushed Gareth's head off his leg, as gently as possible in the timeframe and lunged upward, punching the nearest guy out cold. John glanced over to find Lee wrestling with his man, and John threw himself into the fray with all he had.
It wasn't enough. Five out of the nine men were out cold and bleeding when John was forced to stop by the gun being held at Dawn's head.
"Kneel, or I shoot." The leader ordered.
Lee knelt next to John, as John lowered himself, eyes scanning the room for a possible escape.
"Now, I'm gonna assume one of you two is John Watson, so, fess up, or the girl gets it."
"Don't assume, you make an arse out of me and you." John taunted, trying to draw attention away from Dawn.
"Shut it!" the leader screamed, nodding to one of his remaining men. The man stepped foward and punched John across the face, causing the man to fall into Lee, then struggle to right himself, his vision swimming.
"Is that all? Man, my landlady punches better than that, and she's 75 years old." John teased.
The man began laying it into John, punching and kicking his arms and stomach, until the leader stopped him.
"Now, shut up." The leader spat on John, then turned to everyone else. "Now, if John Watson doesn't reveal himself now, I shoot the girl.
John slowly lifted himself onto his hands and knees, and then slowly straightened. He also very carefully (hiding a wince of pain) put his hand up.
"What?" The leader snapped.
"You said I couldn't talk, but then asked me to reveal myself, I saw no other option but a hand. Mind you, I could've talked, but then you said not to, so I was just following your orders." John rambled, trying to keep their attention on him, as he noticed the door slip open. He couldn't see who entered without turning his head, so he prayed it was someone on his side.
"Always a good soldier, John is."
John didn't stop the grin of relief stretch across his face, his split lip pulling painfully and his bruised eye throbbed.
"Only when I want to be." John shrugged, again, suppressing the wince.
"Who the hell are you?" the leader snapped, pointing his gun at Sherlock.
Big mistake.
John lunged forward again, tackling the man around Dawn to the ground. Lee was surprisingly smart and jerked her away from the fight. John noticed this but ignored it, as Sherlock calmly took out the other men and John quickly subdued the man by straddling him and pulling his gun from the back of his pants and aiming it at the guy's head.
"I won't hesitate to pull the trigger mate, so I'd stay still if I were you." John warned. John looked up at Sherlock and grinned, "About time, Sherlock, it only took nearly 5 years."
"Yes, well, Moriarty was relatively easy, it was Moran who proved difficult." Sherlock sniffed disdainfully.
"Who the hell are you?" the leader demanded. John pressed the gun harder against the guy's head.
"I'm the person who took care of your boss, and your boss's boss." Sherlock sneered.
John smirked at the man, then punched the man out cold. Sherlock reached down and offered John a hand, which John took, carefully levering himself upright. The world swum and he stumbled, gripping Sherlock's arm to keep himself upright.
"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked in a low voice, gently tracing the split lip, bruised eye and cut on his forehead.
"Concussion, broken rib or two, definitely fractured a few. Some serious bruising to appear, but other than that, just fine and dandy." John spoke, his voice slightly slurred.
Sherlock led John to a chair and sat the army doctor down in it. Sherlock traced a hand down his sideburn and John looked up at the man. He grinned, slightly crazily. "You like?" John asked, "I rather like having hair again, but I do miss the buzz cut, it was rather nice to not have to worry about bed hair. Well, as much as I do now."
"Tim?" Dawn asked, sounding extremely scared.
John sobered up and forced himself up. Sherlock moved to push him back down, but John shoved him away. John took two steps and knelt down where Dawn was on the floor with Lee.
"You two OK?" John asked, running his eyes over both of them, trying to stop any serious injuries. A bruise was forming on lee's jaw, and John tilted his head to the side, poking it with a finger.
"Ow." Lee jerked away.
"Noth'ng's bro'en." John slurred, vision getting worse.
"John, you really should sit down." Sherlock spoke up.
"Nah, nah, gotta do m'job." John didn't even try walking, just crawled over to Gareth, who had woken up sometime during the fight.
"When did you start calling yourself John? And where'd you learn how to fight?" Gareth demanded.
John knelt up and snapped a solute, "Cap'ain John Wa'son of the Fif' Norfumberlan' Fusiliers. Also doc'or." He slurred, blinking a lot.
Sherlock knelt next to him, and gripped his arm, keeping the doctor upright. John peered into Gareth's eyes and tutted at him, "Concussion. Like me. We should start a party."
Sherlock stared in concern at his blogger and his weird behaviour, but helped John lean against the wall.
"Now, I'll sit." John told Sherlock. Sherlock moved to stand, but John's fingers gripping his coat stopped him.
Sherlock sat next to John without a word, then turned to the other members of the office in the room who were all staring at John who was fighting himself to stay awake.
"Tim?" Dawn repeated, confused.
"This is John Watson, an ex-army doctor who had to go into a witness protection program while a psychopath was attempting to kill both him and myself." Sherlock began, deciding explaining was the best course of action as they waited for the ambulance and police to arrive. "I tracked down the criminal, and spent the last four years –"
"Closer to five." John corrected, his words not as slurred now he had stopped trying to move. The world was still spinning though.
"Spent the last four years destroying the man's organisation. As you can see, some men slipped through my net, but they were the last ones to take care of." Sherlock gestured to the unconscious men.
"We should guard them." John pointed out, pulling his gun out from his waistband.
Sherlock took it off him, "I think, it is best, my dear Watson, that I take the gun, for the safety of everyone."
John grinned at him, eyes slightly unfocused, "That bad huh?" John muttered.
"A bit."
"Wait, so you're not Tim Canterbury?" David demanded. "Isn't it illegal to lie about your identity?"
"I told you, John entered a witness protection program. It was all legal, I assure you." Sherlock repeated, getting frustrated.
"Wait, so Tim isn't Tim, but John?" Gareth asked.
"Yep," John butted in, "And John can so kick your arse."
John spent a week in hospital, before being discharged. Sherlock went with him when he went back to the office to grab his stuff and say goodbye, but agreed to stay quiet the entire time.
John walked in, and Dawn jumped up from behind her desk, flinging herself at him.
"Oh my god, Tim, you're OK!" She hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back, chuckling slightly. "Oh, right, sorry," She stepped back, "its John, sorry, I forgot."
"That's OK," John smiled gently at her, "I am sorry for lying."
"Nah, it was to protect yourself, I understand." Dawn smiled. Lee came over, the bruise under his jaw fading into yellows and greens, instead of blues and purples.
John offered him his hand, "Thanks for the help when we were stuck in that situation. I wouldn't have been able to do half as much without you helping." John grinned.
Lee shook his hand, and nodded, "Right, yeah." He gripped Dawn's waist psosessively, and released John's hand.
John frowned slightly at the hostility, then realised why and laughed, "Sorry, right, Dawn you're a lovely girl, but I wasn't really pining after you, I mean, in a different situation, maybe, but I knew you were with Lee, and I'm actually in a relationship as well, well, before I went into hiding that is, but if I didn't show some interest in relationships over the past four years, you'd think I was weird." John explained.
Dawn blushed, and Lee looked embarrassed, but the guarded look on his face disappeared. John moved to his desk as Dawn offered her hand to Sherlock.
"Hi, I'm Dawn, this is my fiancé, Lee."
"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock gripped the hand offered and shook it, before following John.
John was watching with amusement on his face, as Sherlock appeared extremely agitated by not being able to burst out into deductions. "Sherlock," John grinned at him, "I know I asked you not to deduce anyone, but you're welcome to do so to Gareth. He'll be in in a tic."
Sherlock grinned and said, "You've turned evil John."
John shrugged.
"I like it."
Sherlock deducing Gareth was hilarious. What was even more hilarious was his reaction when he realised who Sherlock actually was.
"Wait, you're Sherlock Holmes?"
"Yes, that is what I said."
"As in the Sherlock Holmes?"
"Only idiots repeat themselves, so I refuse to answer that question again."
"Yes, he is Sherlock Holmes, the world's consulting detective. I take it you read my blog?" John asked Gareth.
"Yeah, that's why you seemed so familiar, on your blog you had a picture up for a while then it was taken down." Gareth realised.
John shook his head at the guy's obliviousness and nodded. "Yeah, that's my blog."
"Wait, so you guys are, you know," Gareth began, he then whispered, "together?"
Sherlock and John fixed him with different looks, Sherlock's was one of disdain and something that clearly said you-are-an-idiot. John's was of amusement, cheekiness and a guarded look.
"Yes Gareth," John began, extremely loudly, "Sherlock and I are together."
"Shh, not so loud." Gareth shushed.
Everyone heard though, leading to John laughing as Gareth looked embarrassed.
"Gareth, I have no issue with being labeled gay." John told the man, "I didn't tell anyone here because I needed to remain in hiding. I'm not ashamed of my relationship with my partner."
Gareth stared in shock as John turned away with a box of his belongings.
"See you round Gareth." John grinned at the man over his shoulder.
Everyone in the office watched as the infamously rude, selfish bastard that was Sherlock Holmes took the box off his blogger and partner and carried it towards the elevator without complaining.
"See you all." John waved. Everyone called out, the women he had befriended hugged him, the men shook hands with him, a few unsure how to act around the man now it was out he was gay. Dawn hugged him and John kissed her cheek, "If you're unhappy, then do something." He told her, "If you are happy, then do all you can to remain happy."
"I would have said the same thing to you a week ago, but I can see you're already happy." Dawn told him. He grinned and winked. "Keep in touch?"
"Definitely."
John and Sherlock settled back into 221B Baker street as if they had never left, although John's hair was kept different.
A month later he cut it back into the military haircut, getting rid of the sideburns, despite Sherlock not wanting him too.
A month later and it was his birthday. Lestrade, Molly, Mrs Hudson and a few people from the Yard went to the pub with John, to have a few pints and celebrate. Sherlock had disappeared the day before, and hadn't returned. John was slightly put out, but didn't show it.
An hour into the night, John was getting the next round of drinks and he felt a tall body press itself against him. Thin, long arms wrapped themselves around his waist and he turned slightly to glare at Sherlock.
"Happy Birthday." Sherlock told the man, before stepping back and gesturing to the people behind him. Standing in the pub were his mates from the Slough office, grinning at him, holding a package.
"Happy Birthday Tim! I mean, John!" Dawn corrected herself, hugging the man. Everyone else followed her lead, Lee, Ricky, even Gareth was there. John led them to the table where everyone else was and began introductions.
Dawn handed her present over.
"I am actually worried about opening it in public." John confessed to her.
Dawn grinned back.
Lestrade, Molly and Sally all wondered when John had changed and became this laid back.
John peered into the box and cracked up laughing. "I'm not opening it here." He told her.
"You're no fun John, I much prefer Tim." Dawn mock-pouted.
"I'm loads of fun!" John complained. "Hey Gareth," John called over to the guy, who hadn't been paying attention; too busy trying to hit on Sally. "I'm really sorry to ask this mate, but I was in an accident the other day, my hands are all bruised and banged up, can you open the box for me?" John asked, handing the parcel over.
Gareth sighed and said, "Only because I'm such a wonderful friend, and I expect some right to whatever is in here."
"OK." John shrugged, sharing a grin with Dawn.
Gareth opened the box and a giant, inflatable penis popped out. Dawn and John burst into laughter, along with everyone else from Slough as Gareth turned a shade of red and began stuttering, "That's just not funny, and that's not fair. You knew what was inside."
"How could I know? It's my birthday presesnt." John forced out through his giggles.
Lestrade, Sally and Molly watched in shock as the previously calm and proper doctor dissolved into giggles and tears as his friend held the present in his hands, becoming more and more agitated.
Sherlock waited until John had collected himself somewhat and smirked at him. "Happy Birthday."
"Thank you Sherlock." John grinned, before gripping the man's scarf and kissing the normally cold and distant detective. Sherlock responded, not as enthusiastically, but not reluctantly.
Dawn, Gareth, Lee, Gareth and everyone else from Slough watched as their previously thought straight friend made out quite openly with his male partner.
"They always like this?" Dawn asked the girl sitting next to her, Molly, John had said was her name.
"No." Molly said, staring at shock at the pair.
"You normally can't tell they're together unless they tell you, or you walk in on them in their flat." Lestrade added.
Sherlock broke the kiss first, pressing a simple kiss on John's lips before pulling away again, once again cold and distant. John grinned at them all like a cat who got the canary, "Enjoying the show? Come on, drink up, next round's on Dawn."
"Hey!"
"My birthday!"
"But why me?"
"Fine, next round's on Gareth!"
"Hey!"
"My birthday!"
"Fine."
The End