Of Bumble Bee's and Beatles
John Watson would readily admit that the moment he discovered online shopping was one of the more significant episodes in his life. It might seem ridiculous to the more technologically talented people in the world but John had always been a bit behind everyone when it came to things like computers and the internet. Tours of duty around the world and the time constraints of being a doctor had left him adrift of many of the modern advances. In all honesty he could barely use the fancy phone Harry had given him when he had returned home from Afghanistan. The touch screen had caused no end of problems. He either jabbed it too hard with his finger so nothing happened or the voice dialling would randomly start calling people when he wasn't aware of it. Hell, even keeping up with his blog was hard enough. John was a woefully slow typist and he swore blind that the letters all seemed to switch places when he wasn't looking. Thankfully help came to him in the form of his next door neighbour, Mrs Turner, who had offered to give John a few lessons basic lessons in computing in exchange for him to get Sherlock to stop playing his violin at ungodly hours of the night.
It had taken him a while to get his head around the whole internet business; he had even brought a book on the subject but that turned out to be more of a midfield than learning how to use the computer. Once he was up and running John felt elated. Now he had the whole world at his finger tips and he didn't even have to leave the sofa. Out of everything it was the online food shopping that he loved the most. There were no queues, no kids screaming for sweets, no chip and pin machines and no having to struggle home with a load of heavy bags. The beauty of his online shop was that he didn't have to worry about running out of something or finding a time in between chasing after Sherlock, keeping up with his job at the practice and all the one hundred and one other things that seemed to prevent him in the past from buying food. Plus he could buy as much lube as he wanted without having to encounter shop assistants who either made him feel like a dirty pervert or gave him a look that smacked of "Ahh, I know what you're up to tonight mister!"
John's foray into online shopping hadn't all been plain sailing though. Amazon was easy enough. He had picked up some good DVD and book bargains, although most of his purchases had remained unopened in a precariously stacked pile as he had been too busy to watch any of them. It had taken him a while to get his head around all the different variations and weights of food. John and Sherlock had spent a memorable two weeks living of pasta after John accidently brought a kilo of the stuff. At least Sherlock hadn't complained. Much. Apparently there were also now ten different types of strawberry jam that John was previously unaware of. Clearly they had invented new types whilst he was in Afghanistan. Did he want it with seeds? Without seeds? Organic? From a fancy farm in France? British born and bred? Smooth? Chunky? The list seemed endless but John was now two months into his shopping experience and he felt he had finally got his head around everything. He had even begun to venture out of the relative safety of Tesco online and Amazon to other shops. He could now do all his banking online, pay the television licence and managed to get himself and Sherlock a good deal on a sky box. It might seem silly but part of the reason why John looked forward to his weekly online shop was because it was something that was just for him. Sherlock had no interest whatsoever in what John ordered to eat and John had given up asking him. As long as Sherlock ate something that resembled a piece of fruit or a vegetable a few times a week then John was happy. It was relaxing to just take a few hours to himself and have a look around at what was available to buy. He was even toying with the idea of booking himself and Sherlock a holiday over the internet, it was so much cheaper doing it online and you could read peoples accounts of the hotels to check that they weren't a complete cesspit or run by some bizarre cult.
Thankfully John had something new to occupy himself with, aside from the food shopping and paying bills. Sherlock needed a new pair of pyjamas. The last good pair he had had been ripped beyond repair by a rather enthusiastic Doctor (naming no names) a few nights before. The pair he was currently mooching about in where so threadbare and tatty John was amazed that they just didn't fall apart whilst Sherlock was wearing them. Not that he would mind per say, it was just a tad distracting when he was trying to work (trying not to stare) or had to get ready for work (trying not to shag the hell of him). John spent a few days hunting around for something suitable. Sherlock was as uninterested in food as what he wore to bed but John had a more practical notion of his partner's needs. It was getting colder now as winter was closing in so thin cotton and short sets were out. Silk, although pleasing to the eye, stained too easily and the detective was messy enough as it was without ruining a pair of expensive, fine silk pyjamas. What John was looking for was something thick and durable that could stand the rough and tumble of Sherlock's life. After a few days of looking at various clothing sites he spotted them. They were so perfect John had them in his virtual basket quick as lightening. The t-shirt was plain white with a cartoon of the Beatles depicted as a group of Bumble Bees walking across Abby Road. Above them read the inscription "Let it Bee". John laughed out loud to himself. He'd be willing to bet good money that Sherlock would have no clue who the Beatles were but it would be an interesting way to introduce him into popular culture. The bottoms were dark blue, good, thick cotton with the cartoon Bee Beatles playing their instruments all over them. Bumble Bee John Lennon even had a pair of glasses on.
John dug his credit card out of his wallet and quickly typed in his card number. He had an irrational fear that there might be someone else out there with a boyfriend who also had a fetish for Bees that might beat him to them. Finally he saw the words "Payment Successful" pop-up on his screen and an estimated dispatch day. John grinned to himself, it wasn't often that he and Sherlock gave each other gifts but he had an inkling that Sherlock was going to like his new sleeping attire.
It took just over a week for John's new purchase to be delivered to 221B Baker Street. Luckily Sherlock had been embroiled on a chase when they had arrived so John didn't have to worry about the detective opening them himself. John hoped that this current case wouldn't last long; he wanted Sherlock to at least be able to wear his new pyjamas for a while. However, for the time being at least, the pyjamas would have to be stowed away out of the way of the all-seeing eyes of Sherlock Holmes. A full two weeks had passed since John had received Sherlock's gift, unfortunately John had spent most of that time in the surgery and had barely seen the detective for the past few days. John always felt uneasy when he was unable to join Sherlock on a case; the man certainly had a knack for finding trouble. Thankfully today was Friday and as of six o'clock this evening John was not needed back in the surgery until Wednesday. This meant he could spend all weekend gallivanting around with Sherlock or finally be able to give him his present if the case was closed. John hoped it was the latter. The pressure of concealing something from Sherlock was starting to get to him.
John returned home that evening to find Sherlock's faithful coat and scarf hung up on the back of the door. Obviously he was home but that didn't answer if the question of whether or not the case was closed. After taking off his own coat and slipping his shoes off; John made his way up the small flight of stairs towards his and Sherlock's bedroom.
"Sherlock?" John called out as he began climbing the steps.
"Bathroom." The rich baritone voice of Sherlock Holmes called out.
John pushed open the door and was met with a blast of steam and the sight of Sherlock stretched out naked in the bathtub, his eyes closed. John managed to pick his way through Sherlock's clothes that lay strewn across the floor and bent down to place a kiss on the detective's forehead.
"Long day?" he questioned.
"Mmmm" Sherlock mumbled sleepily as he opened his eyes and lifted his head up so that John could kiss him on the lips.
"Case over then?" John asked as he smoothed down some of the strands of Sherlock's wet hair.
"It was the daughter. The measurement of her inside leg was all I needed. It was so obvious I don't even see why Lestrade bothered to call me in at all." Sherlock said as John puttered around and picked up the detectives clothes that he had thoughtfully just dumped all over the bathroom floor.
"Inside leg measurement, of course. So I take it you are free of obligations to rid the world of criminal scum this evening then?"
Sherlock nodded, his head resting against the side edge of the bathtub.
"Good, you can watch a film with me later then. I'll order some food in." John said as he picked up one of Sherlock's discarded socks.
Sherlock's eyes fluttered open.
"Really John, you know I don't have any interest in watching films." He snipped.
"Sherlock, you're probably the only person on the planet that hasn't seen Die Hard. You're watching it!" John said exasperatedly as he gathered up his armful of clothing and put them in the laundry basket.
"Fine. Just don't expect me to enjoy it." Sherlock said sulkily as he closed his eyes again.
"I would expect nothing less. Try not to fall asleep and drown." John said as he bent down to kiss Sherlock's forehead before he exited the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
John knew that it was ridiculous to be excited about giving a grown man a pair of pyjamas but he couldn't help himself. Making his way back towards his bedroom he smiled and whistled happily to himself. He had not so much as hidden the pyjamas but he had thought of a place that Sherlock wouldn't be likely to rummage around in. Throwing himself onto his stomach he pulled out his spare suitcase from under the bed and unzipped it. Laying neatly folded and still in the packet was Sherlock's Bee pyjamas. John couldn't be certain but he didn't think they had been discovered by the ever curious detective. Sometimes he almost thought that Sherlock possessed some form of telepathic powers like Professor X, Carrie or that blonde lady with the glasses who had her own television show. Pushing the case back under the bed he removed the packaging and laid them neatly on Sherlock's side of the bed. John had learnt early on that when it came to giving gifts it was best done without any fanfare or over sentimentality. Granted Sherlock had gotten a lot better at expressing his emotions and feelings but apparently the simple act of receiving a gift from a loved one still made him twitchy and uncomfortable. After putting on his own pyjamas, John exited the bedroom and headed downstairs to order them some food.
Just over half an hour later Sherlock appeared in the living room, smelling like soap and tea tree oil, decked out his brand new pyjamas. He looked more like an over grown five year old then ever but John couldn't help but smile. They fit his slender frame perfectly. Their food had arrived about ten minutes before and John already had it laid out on the kitchen table complete with cutlery, a beer for himself and a jug of iced water for Sherlock. John hadn't even realised how hungry he was but the aromatic spices of his chicken curry were getting hard to resist.
"Come on, before it gets cold." He said as he sat down.
Sherlock flopped dramatically into the chair opposite him and made no comment on his new clothing. John tried not to feel too disappointed until he saw the detective carefully place a napkin over his lap; clearly he wanted to avoid spilling anything on his clothes.
"I take it the pyjamas are a hit then?" John asked, not even bothering to hide his smile.
"They are suitable for my requirements." Sherlock said nonchalantly but John could see the small smile playing on his lips.
"Good. I'm glad you like them. I'll have to play you some of their songs sometime." John said. He was wondering if Sherlock was going to admit outright that he didn't know who the Beatles where.
"I have heard of the Beatles before John." Sherlock huffed, complete with an over exaggerated eye roll.
John blinked in surprise, this he had not expected. Normally in the rare occasion that Sherlock didn't know something he would either dismiss it as boring or claim he had already deleted it. Somehow John doubted the Beatles back catalogue was something Sherlock would consider an important fact to store in his hard drive.
"What's your favourite song then?" John asked, deciding he would play along with Sherlock's previously undiscovered passion for the Beatles.
"Yellow Submarine." Sherlock said almost a little too quickly.
John frowned slightly; he could practically smell the Wikipedia radiating from the other man.
"Oh really? I forgot how that one goes. What's the second half sound like again?" John asked as he tried to keep his voice light and casual.
"Clearly you are not as bigger fan as you say you are John. Why don't you just look it up yourself after we've eaten?" Sherlock retorted huffily.
"Well if it's your favourite song then you should be able to tell me. I wouldn't need to waste time looking it up." John said. It was becoming difficult not to burst out laughing.
"Well… its… The second chorus merely elaborates on the first which is generally to do with a voyage undertaken by a Yellow Submarine and its crew members." Sherlock snapped. He was getting cross now but John couldn't help himself, it wasn't often that he knew something that Sherlock didn't.
"Sorry that's not ringing any bells. Perhaps you could sing it for me?" John asked as he tried to keep a straight face.
"I don't know all the words" Sherlock said indignantly.
"That's ok. How about you play the tune for me on your violin? I might remember it then." John said.
There was a brief moment of silence where John swore he could actually hear Sherlock's brain working frantically against itself. Sherlock hated admitting he didn't know something.
"Fine! I have no idea who the are Beatles nor have I ever heard any of their songs. Although quite frankly the tittle "Yellow Submarine" is rather misleading as it does not involve a sub aquatic expedition to the seabed as one would suspect it would! If you must know I googled them before I came downstairs." Sherlock said, his expression furious.
John couldn't help himself as he burst out laughing at the look on Sherlock's face. Sherlock's grey eyes narrowed until they were almost slits. If there was one thing that was sure to get the detectives back up it was being laughed at.
"Oh that's right, let's all laugh at silly Sherlock because he doesn't know who some stupid sixty's pop band are." Sherlock snapped as he sprang up from his chair and stomped of towards the door.
"Sherlock! Where are you going?" John spluttered as he scrambled up after the detective.
"Out." Sherlock snarled as he began pulled his coat and scarf on.
"In your pyjamas?" John said quietly, still trying very hard not to start laughing again.
Sherlock looked down and realised that he was indeed wearing pyjamas.
"Without any shoes on?" John said gently. He was starting to feel guilty now, he hadn't meant to make Sherlock this upset over a pair of cartoon pyjamas.
Sherlock was still glaring furiously at his pyjamas as if he could somehow mentally turn them into a pair of suitable clothing that could be worn outdoors.
"I'm sorry I laughed at you, that was unkind of me. Come back and finish your food with me please?" John said softly as he reached out and rubbed the detectives arm in what he hopped has a soothing manner.
"Fine." Sherlock replied haughtily as he threw off his coat and stomped back into the living room. John sighed heavily as he picked up Sherlock's discarded coat and hung it back up again.
The atmosphere back when John returned to the table was not a pretty one. Sherlock remained resolutely silent and stared fixedly at the wall as John tried to make small talk as he dished up their food. John let Sherlock sulk for five more minutes before he attempted to break the silence.
"You know when someone says sorry it's normally a required element that the other person accepts the apology and both parties can move on." John said as he tore himself of a large piece of Naan bread.
Sherlock, who was quite clearly fascinated by the curry on his plate judging by the way he was staring at it, didn't reply.
"So we're just going to sit in silence all evening then?" John asked. This really wasn't the way he thought his evening was going to go.
Sherlock began making a smiley face out the curry juices on his plate. John loved Sherlock he really did but he sure as hell didn't make life hard sometimes.
"Fine I give in. I unreservedly apologise for teasing you. To make up for this ungracious act I'll allow you to keep body parts in the fridge for a week." John said with an exasperated sigh.
Sherlock's head whipped up instantly.
"Three weeks." He bartered.
"Two, but you have to eat all your meals properly with no arguments starting with that. And no heads in the fridge either." John fired back quickly; he might as well get Sherlock to eat properly whilst he had the chance.
Sherlock seemed to be weighing up the pros and cons of Johns proposal. It didn't take him long to decide.
"Deal." He said finally.
"So I'm forgiven then?" John asked with a note of mock concern in his voice.
"It would appear so." Sherlock replied, trying to hide the grin on his face.
"Do I get a kiss then?" said John.
Sherlock rolled his eyes but he leaned forward and allowed John to kiss him firmly on the lips.
"It's just another thing I have to add to my list." John said as he pulled Sherlock in for another soft kiss.
"List? What list? You don't have a list? I would know if you had a list!" Sherlock said as he pulled back, his eyes shining with curiosity.
"My list of things I have to teach you. All the irrelevant, boring mundane and normal things that you don't think you need." John said as he stroked Sherlock's cheek.
"John Watson you never cease to amaze me." Sherlock said as he smiled brightly and turned his attentions back towards his food.
John felt a lovely rush a happiness run through him. This was what he loved so much about being with Sherlock; he got to see the side of him that no one else saw. The caring, loving side that seemed too have been bottled up inside of him for so long. John did indeed have a list but there was no way he was letting Sherlock see it just yet.
Dinner was a much more enjoyable affair after that with Sherlock giving John a blow by blow account of his case and John finished off telling him about the tropical diseases he used to treat whilst he was overseas. Unsurprisingly Sherlock was fascinated. Once they had eaten John cleared their dishes away, opened himself another bottle of beer and began setting up the DVD player. He could hear Sherlock in the kitchen, already rifling through the fridge and removing everything from the bottom draw. John decided he wouldn't think about what Sherlock was going to put in there for a while. John sat himself down on the couch with his legs propped up on the coffee table and pressed the play button. The familiar title tune of Die Hard was just beginning to start up.
"Sherlock, hurry up the film's about to start." He called.
Sherlock sloped in still looking sulky and petulant but he dutifully went and sat himself down on the sofa and laid his head in John's lap. It then took a further ten minutes of Sherlock tugging and prodding John into a position he found comfortable before they could actually sit and watch the film.
"Comfy?" John asked smirking slightly as he wrapped his arm tighter around Sherlock's waist.
"Very. Hurry up so we can get this over with." Sherlock said as he burrowed himself further into Johns lap. Sometimes living with Sherlock was like living with a very large cat.
"I like my pyjamas." Sherlock said suddenly. John knew his partner well enough by now to know that this was Sherlock-speak for "Thank you".
"You're welcome." John said as stroked Sherlock's hair.
"I like the Bee's." Sherlock said as he pushed his head further towards John's hand.
"You know you'll always Bee mine you know." John said as he tried not to laugh. It was cheesy, even for John, but he couldn't help himself.
"Oh shut up." Sherlock said grumpily.
"Lets Bee friends forever." John said, he was really giggling now.
"You're an idiot." Sherlock said but he was starting to laugh himself now.
"We'll Bee together always." John said as he roared with laughter.
"That one I like." Sherlock said as he sat up and kissed John. John responded in kind, he even slipped his tongue in a little and gave Sherlock's arse a grope for good measure.
"Nice distraction but we're watching this film." John said as Sherlock rolled his eyes and resumed his position in Johns lap.
They managed to watch the first half an hour in a comfortable silence until the bit where John McClane has to hide from German terrorists.
"This film is stupid. How could they not realise he was in there?" Sherlock piped up.
"Sherlock just shush and watch the film." John said as he ran his fingers through the dark curls that adorned Sherlock's head.
"That man isn't even doing the German accent right either; real Germans don't sound like that." Sherlock said as he ignored Johns warning.
"It's just a film Sherlock; it's not supposed to be real. And don't be rude about Alan Rickman either." John said, he starting to get distracted from the plot.
"Who?" Sherlock asked.
"The German bad guy." John said shortly.
"I thought the German man was called Hans Gruber?" Sherlock questioned.
"That's the character. The man playing him is Alan Rickman." John said patiently. Sometimes he wondered if Sherlock hadn't just been locked in a room all his life with a pile of books and then just let loose on the world.
"Humph, well he's not doing a very good job." Sherlock muttered.
"Sherlock just be quiet and pay attention… Oh look now you've made me miss bits, it'll ruin the ending now!" John exclaimed.
"How can missing bits ruin the ending to a film you yourself have said that you have seen more than ten times?" Sherlock asked.
John chose to ignore that last remark and simply remained petting Sherlock's hair.
"Lets…Lets just sit and watch the film shall we?" John ground out.
"Fine." Came the bored sounding reply.
John got back into the plot of the film easily after that, granted he had seen Die hard a fair few times so it wasn't that difficult. The lack of running commentary from Sherlock meant that the detective had probably fallen asleep. Looking down John saw that Sherlock's eyes were indeed closed and his mouth was slack and hanging open. John pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa and covered tucked it around himself and Sherlock. Only after he had shut of the telly and settled himself down for the night did he notice, through the darkness, that the Bee Beatles on Sherlock's pyjama bottoms actually glowed in the dark. Smiling ruefully to himself John closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Authors Note:
Hope you all enjoyed this, its my first time writing a Sherlock fic and I'm a bit nervous about it! Reviews would be lovely and greatly appreciated. Apologies for any grammatical erros, I'm a bit dyslexic so sometimes my brain doesnt quite do what I tell it too! Any errors will be corrected if pointed out nicely and constructively!
I'm also considering putting up Johns list in a second chapter if enough people wish to read it.