With a sigh, Zoe started tidying up her practise at the end of the day, feeling accomplished. She had a few patients, less than Brick, still, but definitely more than 30%. She had the feeling Bluebell was finally warming up to her.
"I'm sorry sir, we're closed." Zoe heard Addie say. That was surprising, in a small town like this, everybody knew the closing times of the doctor's office, and most people didn't try to come in after them.
"Do I look like I care?" was the snappish reply. Zoe raised an eyebrow at the British accent and the rudeness, and walked into the waiting room. Addie was glaring at a tall man with dark, curly hair and a nasty cut across his forehead. He and Wade were holding an unconscious man in between them.
"I'm a doctor." Zoe offered. The tall man gave looked her up and down and nodded. She was a bit surprised by the look, which was not about checking her out. It was more like the man was looking at her to see if she was lying. She shrugged it off and quickly showed them to the examiner room.
"What happened anyway?" She asked, as she checked the vitals off the unconscious man. He had a soft face, but something about him made her feel like he could take anybody out if necessary, and the dog tags which were revealed as she carefully removed the man's shirt seemed to confirm that.
"We were on the road late, John told me to stop driving but I didn't listen to him." The tall man explained, speaking rapidly, and Zoe had trouble concentrating on listening and taking care of the person on her exam table at the same time.
"That's his name?" She asked, trying to get a stop to the word flow. The man gave her a look that almost seemed offended by how slow she was.
"Yes of course it is!" he snapped.
"Sorry." Zoe muttered under her breath, before reaching for the alcohol and cotton balls. She gently started to clean the wounds on John's face and arm, so she could stitch the deeper ones, as the tall man continued his story.
"I should've listened to him, we both knew I hadn't slept in a long time. I didn't though, and I started to dose a bit. I ended up driving on the left side of the road- Oh, don't look at me like that, you are the ones who normally drive on the wrong side!" He protested as she and Wade, who was still lurking around shot him a disbelieving look.
"I ended up driving on the left side and before I knew it I hit another car." He finished.
"That would be mine." Wade interjected. Zoe looked at Wade, trying to see if he was injured in any way, but he seemed fine.
"Alright, his vitals are all fine, he'll probably wake up soon." Zoe stated to the tall man, who was starting to look more and more agitated every minute John was out.
A few minutes later, John slowly started to wake up. The tall man was by his side immediately, and put a hand on his shoulder.
Relief flashed over the tall man's face clearly. "John." He breathed. John looked up at him in surprise.
"Sherlock? God you're bleeding." He muttered reaching out. The man, who was apparently called Sherlock, reached to his forehead, and frowned at his fingers when they came back red, as if he hadn't even noticed his own injury jet.
"I'll check up on him in a minute." Zoe interrupted. "How are you feeling? Headache, nauseous, anything?" John closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate on his body.
"Sore upper body, shoulder's going to hurt like bloody hell for the next few days, and I did hit my head hard enough to black out apparently, but no concussion." He summed up.
"Alright, sit up please, and I'll check your shoulder."
John sat up dutifully and let Zoe check his shoulder. Her breathing hitched when she saw the old scar where a bullet had dug its way into tender flesh. It wasn't a clean wound, it looked like John had dug the projectile out of his shoulder himself, with his fingers.
While Zoe was occupied with his shoulder, John started some small talk.
"So, where are we exactly?" he asked, looking at Sherlock. The tall man's lips curved up in a smile for the first time that evening.
"Bluebell." He answered. John turned to Sherlock in surprise.
"What does the glow in the dark rabbit have to do with where we are?" he asked, genuinely confused. Sherlock laughed.
"How hard did you hit your head again?" Wade asked, and Zoe couldn't help but wonder about that too. A glow in the dark rabbit? Both men ignored him as Sherlock started to explain.
"Bluebell Alabama, Kirsty's fairy rabbit has nothing to do with it." He said. The two men laughed at their shared inside joke.
"Well, you are fine, considering the circumstances. Sherlock, let me patch up that gash on your forehead please." Zoe said, pulling off her medical gloves, and reaching for a new pair.
"No."
Zoe stopped mid movement. "No?" she repeated.
"You've heard me, you're not going to touch me." Sherlock stated. Wade and Zoe looked at each other in shock. Sure, there were a lot of people who preferred Brick over her, but nobody had blatantly told her she wasn't allowed to touch them.
John sighed, evidently used to this kind of behaviour of his friend.
"Sherlock, please, let the girl patch you up." His voice was gentle, trying to convince Sherlock.
"No, she's not going to touch me. She's a heart surgeon, not a general practitioner." Zoe frowned in surprise. How did he know that?
"You didn't have a problem with her taking care of me, did you?" John asked.
"That was because you obviously couldn't take care of yourself." Sherlock argued.
"Stop being a git, you need to get that looked at, and if she's a heart surgeon, she's more than capable to treat you." John tried again, starting to sound a bit more irritated.
"We made a deal John, you're the only one who gets to touch me." Sherlock protested.
"That's a bit too much info." Wade said, speaking his thoughts. Sherlock turned to him, his gaze icy.
"Your father is getting drunk right now, I suggest you go bothering him." He snapped.
Wade froze, and for a second he looked like he was about to punch the brown haired man. He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times before turning sharply and hurrying out of the room, slamming the door after him.
Zoe stared at the two men, who were having a glaring contest, in surprise. How was it possible that Sherlock knew so much about them? And he wasn't exactly a people's person, that much was obvious.
At some point, John had given up trying to win their argument, and he was now gently cleaning the gash on Sherlock's forehead, softly talking to him.
"You really can't do that to people, it's hurtful." John reprimanded, cleaning the blood away. Sherlock looked up at him.
"It was the truth, besides, his father is going up on a roof tonight, he was going to be called to get him off anyway." He explained. Zoe saw how John flinched at the mention of the roof, as if recalling something.
"I know Sherlock, but you said it because you wanted him gone, and that really wasn't good."
It was odd to see how the two of them interacted, there obviously was a lot of trust and respect between them, but also a weird kind off cautiousness, especially from John, who seemed afraid of Sherlock disappearing right from under his hands if he wasn't careful.
John ceremoniously put a plaster over the gash and stepped back.
"Alright, I think we're okay to go right now." He told Sherlock. Zoe decided to step back into the picture again.
"There is a motel in town, you can stay there until you are good enough to drive again. I'll prescribe you some pain medication John." She said. She quickly scribbled a receipt, and hesitated.
"I need your full names." She said.
"Of course. I'm John Watson, and he is Sherlock Holmes." John supplied.
Zoe quickly wrote the names down, and handed John the paper. As she watched them leave, she quickly notated their names on a piece of paper which she folded and slipped into her bag.
The next few days, Bluebell was buzzing with rumours about the two strange men who had suddenly popped up.
Zoe was making breakfast for herself when there was a firm knock on the door. She opened for Rose, who was grinning at her excitedly.
"Hello, you are in a good mood." Zoe stated. The young girl just continue to grin at her. "Come in, do you want something?"
"I want you to tell me about those two men who came into town a few days ago." Rose replied.
Zoe sighed and sat down, pulling her bowl of cereal closer.
"You know I can't talk about patients." She said, scooping a spoonful of cornflakes. She knew that if Rose kept pressing, she would disclose about the odd pair slightly.
Before either of them had the chance to say anything else, the men in question walked into the kitchen. John had a certain respect for privacy, and he kept lingering in the doorway, but Sherlock simply ignored all social rules and just stepped into the room.
"I just wanted to say that John and I are leaving town today, if that's okay according to our doctor." He said, glaring at John as he spoke the words 'our doctor'. Zoe quickly looked the two of them over.
"Well, I'd say that you are good enough to drive, John however isn't." She stated. A smirk grew on Sherlock's face, and Zoe had to admit he was attractive.
"That's okay." Sherlock said, his eyes almost twinkling. "He doesn't have a license anyway." John groaned and walked up to Sherlock, playfully slapping him on the arm.
"So what Sherlock, you have absolutely no knowledge about the solar system." He argued.
Rose's eyes widened as she heard the name Sherlock, and she quickly looked down. Zoe wasn't really focusing on her, but out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the young girl sneaking glances at the pair as if they were some sort of celebrities.
"You can go on with your trip today, as long as you rest regularly, Sherlock. Have fun." Zoe told the two men. They smiled at her fondly, (well, at least John did) and said their goodbyes.
They passed Wade at the door, and Zoe saw Sherlock handing him something before leaving.
"What were those two doing here? Besides handing me compensation for my car." Wade asked. He put the money on the table, and picked up a slip of paper hidden between the dollar bills. His eyes widened as he read the neat handwriting, and he quickly stuffed the note into his jeans pocket.
"Sherlock wanted to know if I would approve of them continuing their journey." Zoe explained, grabbing a spoon and eating her cereal, which was now quite soggy.
"Oh my god, do you have any idea who those two actually are?" Rose burst out at once. The two adults turned to her in surprise.
"That were Sherlock and John, who hit Wade with their car a few days ago, why?" Zoe asked, confused about Rose's attitude.
"That were Sherlock Holmes and John Watson." Rose stated. She looked at them expectantly. "Doesn't ring any bells?" When Zoe and Wade just continued to stare at her blankly she sighed.
"Seriously, do you guys live under a rock?" Rose sighed before taking Zoe's laptop from the couch in the living room.
She was busy searching for a while before she pulled up a green blog. "Here." She said, turning the laptop to Wade and Zoe.
"The personal blog of Dr. John H. Watson" Wade read out loud. Together the three of them read through the blog entries John had posted online, giggling at the joke about the solar system and the ATM machine.
"If Sherlock says something he sees, it's true." Rose stated, bookmarking the blog for Zoe before closing the laptop. "I'm going home. Bye Zoe, Bye Wade."
Wade subconsciously reached towards his pocket, where he kept the piece of paper Sherlock had written his note on.
You'll find this note between the money. It's another apology, for hitting your car, and shooing you out using your father, I shouldn't have done that (or so John says). You and the doctor like each other, if you're honest and confess to her, she won't reject you. It's obvious, she keeps glancing at you when she feels uncomfortable, she feels safe around you, although a bit nervous because she likes you. And she obviously trusts you enough to let you stay around patients. (Which is a bit unprofessional though.)
SH
A/N: Hello, this turned out a bit longer than I expected. (this thing is four word pages long, that's really big for me o.o) I would love to hear what you think of it, so please leave a review, or favourite this story if you like it.
Love, The young writer's apprentice.
