Title: Compensation
Summary: Mass disappearances are happening all over England, and when they hit London; of course they're going to ask Sherlock for help! But what if Sherlock didn't have John? And what if John got involved with the case for his own personal reasoning's? John/Sarah, eventual John/Sherlock
Warning: Not yet, but this story will live up to it's M rating.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, sadly. But if I did, John would be more than aware that him and Sherlock are in a relationship. I think he's the only one who doesn't see it.
Chapter 1: Luck and Boredom
When you're told that your needs will be provided for, you may think that you will live a very comfortable life. This is a lie. When someone tells you this, they mean that they will give you the bare minimum of what you need to live. They will give you a small flat, and enough money to buy a few outfits, and food each month. Luxury's are completely out of the picture.
I, John Watson often find myself up and about London, enjoying the site of other people. The cheapest type of entertainment I know. Sometimes, I wonder if I should've taken the offer to live with that man. Sherlock Homes. The man had intrigued me greatly, but why would I move in with a man that I hardly knew?
I think that it's about time that I properly searched for a job. The extra money I would get would be extremely useful. I think that I should search for a job as a doctor, why wouldn't I? I am defiantly more than qualified. Lucky for me, there's a place that's looking for a more than qualified doctor. I am definitely the man for the job.
I walked to the place. For some reason, I can never seem to be able to hail a cab. I've seen people not even have to wait a minute for a cab, but I am not one of those people. So as I walk there, I take my time. I've given myself a little over an hour until I have to arrive. That's more than enough time. I took a seat on a bench a few blocks away from the hospital, and I watched the people walk by. Sometimes, I like to try to figure out the peoples lives, just by observing them. I doubt that I'm even close to being right.
There's a man, across the street, walking three small dogs. He doesn't look very happy, so I don't think they were his dogs. Maybe a lazy relative's, or a lover's. The man turned the corner and walked out of sight. As I lost sight of him, I felt like I should know who he was, but then I checked my watch and realized I have ten minutes to get to my interview. I forgot about the man, and walked the rest of the way to my interview.
"Hello there, I am Dr. Sarah Sawyer. I take it that you're Mr. John Watson? Please, have a seat." Sarah Sawyer. Wow, this woman, she sure looks like something. Something in a good way though, not in a bad way. Maybe today will be my lucky day. Maybe today I will get a job AND a new girlfriend. It's been some time since the last one. I sat down and handed her my resume. She looked it over.
"Well, you are certainly more than qualified." She said, and I smiled "It's better than being under qualified." I said, she laughed. This is going great.
"That's certainly true. Well, Mr. Watson-" "Please, call me John." "John, then. I'm glad to be able to tell you that you're perfect for the job." She paused and looked at me. "How about we discuss it more over dinner?" She wrote something down on the back of a business card and handed it to me. I looked at it; she had given me her personal mobile number. We said goodbye, and I assured her that I would call her soon.
Today turned out to be one of my luckier ones. A new job and a new girlfriend. Today seems to be my lucky day.
Since I've had such good luck so far today, I figure I wanted to try my luck again. I took a walk to the pet store. You see, I have been trying to buy a pet, but not just any pet, preferably, a kitten. I've been looking for months, trying to find my perfect feline. I reached the pet store, and said hello to the man behind the desk. "Hello, how can I help you?" "Yes, ah, I am looking for a cat?" He smiled and waved me over to a set of cages, each containing a different type of cat. "Are you a first time pet owner?" "I owned a cat when I was younger, and I would love to have another one." I didn't want to tell him that I had a cat before I went to war, and when I came back, Harry told me he had died. Apparently, he had died shortly after I left. "Okay then, if there are any that seem to pique your interest, let me know, I'll be over there." The man, Liam, his nametag said, went back to the counter. He picked up a novel and began to read. I guess that he didn't get many costumers here.
There were about ten cats in total. All of them under a year old, and lets be truthful, they were all extremely cute. There were longhaired cats and shorthaired cats and there were stripped, spotted, and solid-colored cats. Though, there was one kitten all the way at the end that I couldn't take my eyes off. This wasn't just any cat; this was the cat that I was going to take home with me today. I was set on it. "Hey Liam, I've decided."
These people are so stupid. It's like they purposely ignore the obvious. These people need to open their eyes and see what's right in front of them. They're so oblivious to everything around them; I can't even stand to be in the same room as them. Normal people, how boring it must be to not be me. I was able to solve this case in under a minute, while it would've taken the force over a week, probably. Her husband's mistress murdered the woman. It was so simple, and these simple cases are beginning to bore me. I need a challenge!
I stepped to the curb and hailed a cab. There was a cab in front of me in less than a minute. I got in and told the driver to take me to my flat, 221b Baker Street. When I got to my flat, I asked Mrs. Hudson to make me a cup of tea. She replied with her ever so famous, "I'm not you're house keeper, dear." Though, she made me a cup anyway.
I laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling. I was SO BORED. I needed another case, and soon. For now though, I might as well continue on with my experiments. Maybe I'll find the reason for Normal People's stupidity. The ultimate experiment; the reason that some people are born extraordinary (like me) and why some people are born normal (like the rest of the world). If I discovered this, I'd probably win some sort of award.
I went to the fridge, and took out the head. He was beginning to be quite useful to me. My skull hasn't been very helpful to me lately, and this head has proved as an interesting companion. "I really need a new form of entertainment, before I get too bored. I should've forced that man to become my flat mate. At least he seemed slightly interesting. I'm sure he would've kept me from getting bored. He may have even helped me with the ultimate experiment." The head just sat there, I don't think this was a topic that he wished to discuss with me. I picked up the head and placed him back in the fridge. I went back to being bored on the couch. I laid there for hours. So very, very boring.
I must've been there longer than I realized because I eventually got a text from Lestrade. I saw the time, and it was almost twenty-four hours since my last case. Lestrade's text contained a simple address, and the next thing I know I'm in a cab, speeding through London.
When I arrived at the address, it was just a home, probably where a middle aged man and his wife lived. He probably had a middle class job, and has a wife who is probably unemployed so she stays home and tends the garden. They also owned a dog, or did, the dog passed away three days ago.
I met Donavan outside, who had obviously spent the night with Anderson. She greeted me with the usual.
"Great, the freaks here." How rude, someone needs to learn some manners. It's not my fault that I'm much more observant than her, she's just blinded by her lust for that sorry excuse for a man. Neither of them were worth my time, they were too ordinary. I walked past her, and into the crime scene.
"Sherlock! There you are." Lestrade ushered me into the houses' living room. This obviously was no murder, this was a disappearance. It wasn't often that I got called to do a disappearance, this must be somehow related to the mass disappearances happening all over.
I sat on a chair a chair across from the missing man's wife. I looked at the pictures on the wall, a handsome man, early thirties, though he had a secret obsession.
He collected stickers.
A/n: Did you enjoy? This is my fist Sherlock FanFiction! It may take me a while to update, but I have the whole story planned out! So, why don't you do me a favor and review? It would mean the world to me.