Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own the scrumptious characters in Sherlock. BBC does. Lucky bastards.
Summary: An alternate story to how Sherlock and John first met. Also, couldn't come up with a suitable title so I went for the play on the name of that ghastly show by the same name. Open to suggestions. Written for a project at school and the theme was unemployment, economic crisis etc. This is my first fanfic so be nice.
'Undercover Boss'
John didn't understand the concept of money. Why the hell did people have to pay for things? He understood it was a necessary evil but still wished for a time when things were, well, simpler.
These are the thoughts that ran through his head as he stood in the unemployment line. It was his only option left to him at this point. You would think being an army doctor fresh from Afghanistan would open some doors. Apparently it doesn't.
After waiting an inordinately long amount of time in the never ending line, John was finally able to step up to the window and begin the process of basically begging for work. Not something he ever thought he would have to do.
Upon stepping up to the window John noticed two things. 1) His heart rate started to pick up. 2) The reason for said biological change was the gorgeous man standing behind the window. He didn't know what was happening. He had never had this reaction to another man before. I mean he was straight for Christ's sake! (disregarding those couple times he had fooled around while he was in the army, but he had been drunk then, as he likes to console himself).
But man if there was ever a time when he questioned his sexuality it would be while looking at this man. And while he's standing in unemployment too! Christ this was inconvenient. He was supposed to be focusing on getting a job but all he could focus on was the unimaginably long, pale neck and soft dark curls of the man before him. And the cheekbones! God he just wanted to lick those cheeks like some oversized cat.
All these thoughts did was alert John to the fact that he was in deep shite.
Unbeknownst to John a similar inspection was being conducted on his own person by the very man whom John was ogling. But as Sherlock thought to himself, compared to him most people were woefully unobservant. Having deduced everything about this (admittedly adorable) man in the green knit jumper immediately after laying eyes on him Sherlock wrote down some information on a piece of paper and waited for the man in question to find his voice.
Meanwhile John was still standing there going, 'Speak man speak. Go on. Open your mouth and talk instead of standing here like a buffoon.' So he did, and what follows was the result of that decision.
"Hello, yes I'm here to…"
"To find a job yes yes of course as is everyone else, looking for something in medicine. Perhaps a hospital or a clinic?"
"Uh yes, but how did you know…"
"Dull"
"Excuse me?"
Sigh. "You heard me perfectly well don't prove yourself to be a bigger simpleton than I originally deduced. I do so hate to be wrong about these things."
"That still doesn't answer my question"
Another sigh where Sherlock just looks at John with the stare that he knows makes people cower. Surprisingly John stares back and even goes as far as to raise an expectant eyebrow. Interesting.
"The cuts on your hand hint at the training one undergoes as a surgeon. Also the way you scratched your head."
"The way I scratched my…"
"Yes yes like I said, anyway was I wrong?"
"Well, no but…"
"Excellent! Come to this address tomorrow at 9am, everything will be sorted out then."
"Wow, uh ok that was easier than I…"
"Yes yes wonderful. Next!"
And with that John left the unemployment office daydreaming of the pretty if perplexing man he just left. It wasn't until he was practically back to his flat that he remembered the piece of paper clutched tightly in his sweaty fist. On it scrawled in neat, elegant writing was the words '221b Baker Street'.
As John pulled up to the scribbled address the next morning he wondered if the man had written down the wrong one. The building was no hospital, but instead apartments. Although he guessed a family clinic could be inside there was no sign indicating such. He strolled onto the stooped and had barely touched his fist to the door in the beginning of a knock before it was thrown open by none other than the man from the unemployment office.
To say he was shocked would have been an understatement. He was definitely pleased to be sure, way too pleased if he was being honest with himself, but shocked.
"How?...but Why?...Who?..."
"Marvelous you're right on time."
"Right on time for what exactly? I thought I was going to check out my new job?"
"Exactly"
"Is this some sort of clinic?"
"No"
"I don't understand"
"Obviously. This is in fact my flat, which I'm hoping you'll move in to."
"Excuse me."
"That's a favorite phrase of yours isn't it?"
"Look I don't even know your name why would I up and move in with you?"
"You're right, I am Sherlock Holmes, world's only consulting detective I was actually doing some undercover work at the unemployment office when we met. Lucky I was or I wouldn't have found my new assistant."
John let that percolate for a bit. Consulting detective? What the hell? Whatever. He could play along.
"What exactly do you do? What would I do as your assistant, you know provided that I accept?"
"Exactly what the term implies, I am a consultant for the police when they find themselves overwhelmed with a case, which is frighteningly often. You would therefore assist me with such work."
"And I need to move in with you in order to do that?"
"No, but I would bet my life its better than the desolate wasteland you're currently inhabiting."
In actuality Sherlock just wanted access to John whenever he wanted. Wouldn't you? Having John move in would just be the first step in that plan. And besides Sherlock already picked up on John's growing infatuation with him so he severely doubted John would turn him down. Ah yes if he wasn't mistaken he was about to accept now.
"Well I do need the job I guess. I don't really have the luxury to be choosy. And sharing the rent for the flat would be cheaper."
Just as John was consenting to alter his life forever for a mere stranger Sherlock's mobile rang.
"What Lestrade? Really? Excellent! We'll be right there."
"Who was that? Where are we going?"
"No time to explain Watson the game is on!"
Alright everyone like I said it's my first fanfic and its 4 in the morning so be nice. Constructive but nice. Reviews are love 3