Normal disclaimer: I do not own and therefore make no money off of the works of Doyle or the BBC
By now it was a ritual of sorts for John and Greg to meet up at a local when one or the other became too frustrated with London's premier consulting detective. The bitching sessions fueled by alcohol were a great stress relief and a source of entertainment for both parties. Tonight was no different as John tried to decompress after the debacle in Dartmoor. With the heady stuff out of the way and enough beers, John started talking about some of the crazier things his flatmate got up to.
"Then he starts ranting about a damn rabbit. Something about luminescence and fairies. Somehow in his mind it becomes a serious situation and he orders me to call you. When I questioned his insistence, he threatened me with Cluedo." The former army doctor took a healthy swig of his beer while his drinking buddy tried not to fall off his chair.
"Seriously, Greg," John continued, "I don't know why I put up with his antics."
Still trying to catch his breath, the officer said, "Because as you've said every other time I ask: you can only handle mundane for so long."
John just nodded and took another drink, "Ta for that."
Greg's smile stayed as he took sip of his own beer. Honestly, he couldn't think of anyone who could picture Sherlock and John without each other. Two adrenaline junkies, running about searching for ways to make the world a better place. John and Sherlock. The doctor and… The inspector's brain seemed to short circuit and then it was as if everything made sense.
"Oh, my God!" he exclaimed, a bit louder than was probably appropriate even in a pub.
"What?" John asked in confusion at his friend's outburst.
"You're his companion!"
"Sorry?"
"You're Sherlock's companion!" Greg repeated, as if adding a name clarified his statement.
"Well, I am his friend," John conceded.
"No. I mean yes, but no. You are his companion. The one he shares all his mad adventures with!"
"Mate, what are you on about?"
"You. You follow him. You are with him every step of the way. Aiding him, admiring him, sometimes saving him from himself and others. Making sure he doesn't blow up the planet while he is trying to save it." At this point he was practically waving his arms about, trying to get John to see his revelation.
"Are you referring to Doctor Who?" John's brow was furrowed in a way that up until now only Sherlock had seen.
"Of course! Think about it. How long did you know him before he dragged you to my crime scene?"
Not sure where his drunken friend was going with this he answered, "Maybe less than 24 hours?"
"See! The first time you meet he dazzles you, then he takes you to Baker Street and whisks you off for an adventure! Classic formula for the Doctor."
"Okay I kind of get here you are getting this, but there is no way he is actually the Doctor."
"Well, he is a genius and more than a bit of a madman. He barely eats or sleeps and still appears to function with no problems. He runs around the city solving its problems without so much as a 'by your leave'. He fails to completely understand humans, yet he studies them at every turn. He understands the fundamentals of all things sciencey."
"With no knowledge of the solar system." John interjected.
Greg wave him off, "Maybe he did one of those fob watch things. You know the one that turns Time Lords human."
"How do you explain his brother, Mycroft?" John asked hoping to bring logic back to the conversation.
"A crossover between UNIT and Martha Jones. Someone has to look after him and you weren't around yet."
"And you?"
"Brigadier Lestrade-Stewart at your service." Greg deadpanned before breaking into a fit of laughter.
John joined in, "I think you're just about done, mate."
"Probably. But come on you got to admit it does make sense."
Before John could reply his phone buzzed on the table. The screen lit up revealing the text:
"Stop grousing at Lestrade and let's go. We have a new case. - SH"
Both men looked out the pub window, and saw Sherlock standing outside with his belstaff blowing in the wind. John dropped his face in his hands mumbling, "Damn, I am the bloody companion."
Greg chuckled, "At least there is no space travel, just good ol'England."
John just sighed as he stood and gathered his coat, "Well I better go. If only to make sure he doesn't get in trouble."
"Check him for 2 hearts the next time he collapses from exhaustion!" Greg called after him.
John flipped him off as he ran after his friend, the madman without a box.
A/N: A brief foray into the world of Sherlock with a side view of Doctor Who. Haven't published anything in years do to lack of inspiration but a combination of reading Sherlock fics and binge watching old Doctor Whos lead to this.
Hope you enjoyed
