Here's the first chapt of the 101 Johnlock oneshots! This chapter is mostly somehwat diologue so that I could get a sense of their speaking patterns. Don't forget that you can suggest a prompt in my messages. So, please enjoy and don't forget to review!^-^
Their relationship wasn't exactly fairy tale book material. It wasn't even teenage dreams material, if you thought about it. Sherlock and John never hugged in public, they never talked romantically, and, if John wanted to admit it, they rarely, if ever, kissed.
Though, if you really looked, you could see the warm gaze Sherlock sent John's way whenever the army doctor turned his back, or the way the skin wrinkled around John's eyes when Sherlock was exceptionally ignorant. It was love, but a quieter, renounced one, if anything. And to be honest, it was the only one the two wanted.
"Do you honestly have to do that by the body, Sherlock?"
The cold London wind whipped against the consulting detectives pale face as he bent over a man's body, one that mysteriously appeared there in front of the Barber shop earlier that morning.
"Of course, John. How will I possible ever acquire enough data for my experiment? You're a doctor, figure it out. Or better yet, go do something useful like buying some more French tea."
"But, Sherlock, you're allergic to French tea."
"I could've sworn you were smarter this morning, John" Sherlock snapped, rising until he was right in front of the blonde man. "It's not for me; it's for my experiment back at the flat. This was just a suicide, not worth my time, and defiantly not worth yours either."
The detective smiled once before he dramatically turned on his heel, no doubt already thinking about his next experiment.
"Wait," John called out as he ran to catch up. "Then how did it get all the way over to the bloody Barber shop?"
"Think of the facts, John! A jogger saw it on their walk and got scared. Not wanting to touch it, but too human to leave it under the secluded bridge, they brought it here, possibly the only thing they could have done. Now, the tea if you wouldn't mind."
John stopped midstride while Sherlock crossed the street with only a wave to signal his love. "I love you too," he muttered under his breath. It didn't really shock him that Sherlock acted so cold. It was how the guy was and always would be, and maybe, if John was strong enough to stay with him, he could chip away the cold armor Sherlock wore.