John would never have guessed that Sherlock wasn't completely perfect. Not that he was in love or anything, because they were not a couple. But Sherlock was always in perfect health. Never a cold, or a sprained ankle, or a headache, nothing.
'Sherlock! Wake up!' John yelled.
'Whassamatter?' mumbled Sherlock. 'Don'wannagetup. M'sleepy. Go'way, give me one minute.'
Sherlock Holmes is sleepy? I'm dreaming, right? Sherlock is never sleepy.
'SHERLOCK! Lestrade needs us!'
Sherlock sat up. 'Need to get changed.'
After walking into the wall a few times, Sherlock managed to get himself sorted out. John dismissed the walking into the wall as tiredness.
John had to guide Sherlock into the cab after he'd seen him fumbling for the door handle. 'What is it with you today?' he asked.
Sherlock ignored him and began searching in his pockets. John watched him. 'What're you looking for?' He had to ask three times before getting a response.
'The small black box I always keep in my pockets.'
'What, the one on your bedside table?' asked John.
'Oh, damn it!' cried Sherlock.
John was surprised. Sherlock never used bad language. 'What's it got that's so essential? Can't you wait till we get back?'
Sherlock mumbled something inaudible, scowling. 'Pardon?' asked John.
'Contact lenses.'
What?
'Sherlock, you could've told me before we left!'
'Doesn't matter. I have glasses.'
'Okay. Wait, glasses?'
'You don't expect me to walk in there half-blind, do you?'
Actually, John did, but he wasn't about to say that. He watched Sherlock fumble in his pockets and pull out a black case with SHERLOCK HOLMES written on it. It also had a yellow smiley face drawn in pen and traced with small holes, very like the smiley face on the wall of 221B.
John couldn't stop watching. He saw Sherlock put a pair of black glasses on his nose, squint at John then smile a little. 'I can see much better now. What do you think Anderson's going to say?'
They spent the rest of the journey doing Anderson impressions.
Sally started to shout, 'Freak's-' She broke off, looking surprised. 'What the hell? Glasses?'
'Well done, Sally. Your observation skills now surpass those of a dead pigeon. Yes, I am wearing glasses.'
Sally still looked stunned. John couldn't help grinning at her. 'Come on, John. I haven't got time to listen to idiots.'
John hurried after Sherlock, still smiling.
Greg's reaction was the same. 'Sherlock, we've…wait, glasses?'
'Yes, glasses. Anything else?'
Sherlock deduced most of the victim's life story.
'I didn't know you had glasses,' said Greg.
'It's not something I tell everyone, you know,' answered Sherlock.
'You don't go around blind, do you?' asked Greg.
John didn't expect Sherlock to answer this. He was right, because Sherlock frowned, then asked, 'Why is everyone standing around? I didn't get up at three in the morning to discuss the fact that I don't have twenty-twenty vision! I think you'll find it was the brother. You're looking for a man in his twenties, five foot six perhaps seven, light brown hair…
'How do you know?' asked Sally suspiciously.
'You don't think I'm making this up on the spot, do you?'
John knew that Sally was too wise to retaliate. He was right.
On the cab back home, at barely seven in the morning, John asked the question that had been bugging him since Sherlock had put on his glasses. 'Sherlock? Can I ask you a question?' John watched Sherlock look at him almost warily. His eyes were the colour of quicksilver, even brighter than when he was wearing contacts.
'You just did. Do you want to ask me another?'
'I would have thought you'd have been…embarrassed to wear glasses in front of them?'
'Yes, of course I was embarrassed. At school they made my life hell. That was when I decided I wanted contacts. I haven't worn glasses for years. But when it's a choice between glasses and walking around blind, caring isn't an advantage. I don't care what they think of me anymore.'
John was vaguely surprised. 'I wasn't expecting that.'
'I know,' smiled Sherlock. He took off his glasses, tipped his head back and closed his eyes, indicating that the conversation was closed.
John never saw the glasses again.
But quite frankly, he wasn't that surprised.
A/N: First story! Yay! If the formatting goes loopy I'll be onto it asap. If you've got to the end of this, that's amazing. I'm not very happy with this so I may update it at a later date. I've always been intrigued with Sherlock not being 100% perfect e.g. glasses/hearing aid etc. but in all the fics I've read, Sherlock has been embarrassed by it. I thought of writing a fic where he's not ashamed of it at all. And here it is :)
This is also going to become a multi chapter story. I've already planned a few but any ideas will be appreciated!
Thank you so much for reading this. Reviews mean the world to me and most other authors out there, and will be a huge boost to my confidence. Please review? :D
