Author's note: another one in the list of my "What nobody really thinks about"-fics; It's Mike Stamford's turn for the spotlight now, because we all have reason to be thank him: He is the one who introduced Sherlock and John, after all. Therefore, he deserves a fic of his own.
I don't own anything, and please review
He's always been one of those who stand in the back, barely noticed by other people. He is, in fact, one of the most normal and ordinary guys you could imagine – he'll never understand why John thinks of himself as "boring".
On the other hand, he's never had a problem with being ordinary. The world needs ordinary people to keep running, after all; extraordinary people search their extraordinary fates, leaving everything behind, not caring if the food supply or the water supply or any supply fails, and the ordinary people are the ones to prevent this from happening.
That's why he chose to teach. He doesn't need to be a hero, never dreamed to be a hero, not even in kindergarten, when all the other boys wanted to be knights and dragonslayers or something like it, he just wanted to live a happy enough life, and in this, he succeeded. He enjoys helping young minds find their way in the world of medicine, likes watching them blossom. He knows he'd be a good enough doctor, but he is quite content with his lot.
That doesn't mean he doesn't step out from his place at the back of – well, everything that happens, really – occasionally, though. Now and then, fate just throws things in his way, and he has never been one to tempt fate. It does have the worrying quality of paying you back for that someday.
One of those opportunities of changing something that fate threw in his way was the introduction of John and Sherlock Holmes.
He'd known Sherlock Holmes for about five years at this point. The first time they met, he'd been tired after a long day of teaching, seen that the light in the lab was still on and decided to check it out – Molly had fallen asleep on work on more than one occasion, the poor girl simply had too much to do.
Instead of her, he'd found a tall, thin, rather rude man. A man who'd looked at him once, muttered something about "Parents divorced, but nonetheless a happy childhood, spoiled by his maternal grandmother, teaching at Bart's, in a relationship – started maybe three months ago" and seemed genuinely surprised when Mike had said "That's true – well, except that me and Sue got together four months ago. How could you tell?". He'd then explained how the watch he was wearing was clearly an old present, because even though he was "obviously just teaching", he could afford a better one, but he kept it, indicating he'd been close to the person who'd given it to him, but it had been new when he'd received, and because the watch was at least fifteen years old, it had to have been a grandparent; because parents didn't really buy their kids watches for the twelfth birthday anymore (and he apparently "didn't look much older than thirty-five"), not even then; how the way his tie looked suggested he'd learned how to put it on by himself, when he'd been quite old, so his father couldn't have been around much, parents divorced then, and when the father hadn't been around much, why should his mother have been, so, maternal grandmother it was then, but "judging from the smile you seem to wear constantly" it had been a rather happy childhood, no scars left; the shirt he was wearing suggested he had a date tonight, "but it wasn't ironed, so you're already sure she looks you, together then, but not for long", and "the day I no longer recognize the chalk on your sleeve as one out of Bart's auditorium, I can stop doing experiments, really."
The man had been even more surprised when Mike had shown his admiration for this so-called "deductions", and in the end, after explaining what he was doing there – apparently he helped the police with certain cases, he called himself "consulting detective" – he'd shaken Mike's hand and introduced himself as Sherlock Holmes.
From this day on, Mike Stamford had been one of the few people in London Sherlock Holmes could stand, and now and then he'd thought that, all in all, the man must lead a lonely life.
Until fate decided to intervene in Mike's own shape.
He'd instantly recognized John – he remembered him well, the nice boy and excellent student who'd wanted to serve his country – and he hadn't changed much.
Mike hadn't thought twice about introducing them – after all, hadn't Sherlock loudly complained to him, only this morning, the he couldn't afford the "perfect flat" and, when he'd humbly suggested the possibility of a flat share, asked "Who'd want me for a flatmate?" It was a match made in heaven.
And nothing could convince him otherwise. He'd read the blog, Sue had read the blog, everyone he knew had soon read the blog, and he'd spent enough late nights with John in pubs to understand that, even when his old friend was nothing but complaining, he was happy and the John Watson Mike had come to know when they were students once again.
Though Sue is the only one in the world to know, he was proud to have introduced them. He still is.
When the articles had started to pop up – the ones claiming Sherlock was a fraud – Mike hadn't believed it. He still doesn't. It's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard, really. How could Sherlock possibly have researched every life history of every person he'd ever come across? It's not possible. He believes in Sherlock Holmes, and he will continue to do so.
Even after his suicide. He takes sue to the funeral, and he grieves. Despite the fact that Sherlock could be rude and inconsiderate, despite the fact that they were barely friends, he misses his presence in the lab. He spiced things up when even Mike was bored, and that's saying something.
He even loses his temper one day in a class – that has never happened to him before, never, since he first set foot in St Bart's over twenty years – because a student of his wants to know if he "knew the fraud". He tells the student to concentrate on the subject of the class. Quite harshly. So harshly, in fact, that the students stay silent and keep shooting him strange looks for the rest of the day. He doesn't care. He still believes, and he wants people to know that.
As usual, he is the one to hold everything together after a tragedy. He comforts Molly, when he finds her crying in the morgue. Poor girl, her infatuation with the consulting detective had almost been as well known as Sherlock was, in the end.
He meets John for drinks and tells him to "keep his head up and be proud to know the truth", and that earns him a smile, at least. Over time, he manages to make him laugh, now and then. He's genuinely sorry for John, but he can't be sorry for introducing them, because he had seen how happy they both were in their crime solving partnership.
He even makes Sherlock's landlady a cup of tea, when he finds her in the lab, after John ahs moved out of the flat, too, and she tells him quietly that she "just wanted to see the place where her boys met."
And when he sees a man standing in front of St Bart's, staring at the pavement as if it held answers, looking lost, and the man introduces himself as "DI Lestrade" after Mike has asked if he's okay, he smiles and buys him a drink, too, and tells him how he and Sherlock first met. It's when DI Lestrade starts to open up, after a few drinks more, that he learns that he must have met Sherlock only a short time after he started working with the police – and that apparently both Sherlock and John mentioned him now and then.
He can't help but feel honoured.
He's sad when he can't invite Sherlock alongside John to his and Sue's wedding (she's told him that, after seven years, "it's about time we either split up or marry", and the first possibility was never an option, for both of them), and to the baptism of their first child, a boy, who they name David Sherlock Stamford, in honour of his dead friend ("it's not how deep people think the friendship ran, it's what you think" Sue said), and John looks like he might cry when they ask him to be the godfather. But, all in all, three years after Sherlock's death, it's getting easier for John, which is a relief.
The Sherlock returns, and Mike hears about it very soon, because John calls him and almost screams in the phone that "the sod just came back and he's alive and I punched him and now he's gone again" and he calms him down, has a hunch and tells Sue he'll be back soon.
He finds Sherlock in the lab where he introduced him and John, like he thought. He has a blue eye, but appears otherwise unscathed – well, maybe a little thinner than Mike remembers, but since he's got fatter – again – it evens out.
He tells him "John is looking for you" and Sherlock looks at him and says "Good. I guess I will go to Baker Street and text him on the way, then", and when he is already at the door, he turns and says, "You named your son after me?" and, this time, Mike really thinks there's no way he could deduce that, but then he adds "John shouted the information at me – amongst other things."
Mike clears his throat. "Well, it's his second name – Sherlock's a bit – ahem – unusual, but we wanted to... prove a point, you know how it is."
Sherlock's eyes narrow. "Yes, yes, I know how it is." Then his expression changes and he looks almost touched. He nods, and then he says something Mike is pretty sure he'll never hear again in his life.
"You, Mike Stamford, are ordinarily extraordinary".
Then, he's gone, and Mike knows that very soon, everything will be like it was before, them solving crimes, John blogging about it, and he thinks about what Sherlock just said.
And, despite him never having had problems with being ordinary, he decides it's the best compliment he ever received.
Author's note: I gave Mike a girlfriend, because he deserves one. And he got an introduction and a reunion scene with Sherlock, because he deserves that, too. Thank you, Mike Stamford, from the deepest bottom of my heart.
I hope you enjoyed the story, and please review.