AN: So here's that fluffy little one shot I promised. To those who think they've read this before, I accidentally posted half of it instead of my other fic, but there's a lot more to it that was there so please please read on and let me know what you think. :)
And you know the drill, I own nothing.
An Exposition on Love.
John was always up before Sherlock, whenever Sherlock did sleep. In times before, Sherlock would wake up to find John already showered and pottering about the kitchen, making tea and breakfast for two. When John moved back in 'to take care of Sherlock after his hospitalisation', Sherlock expected similar or more overbearing behaviour, maybe even bringing the breakfast to Sherlock in bed so he wouldn't have to move around too much. Maybe that would have been the case, if taking care of Sherlock had been the real reason John moved back. They both knew it wasn't. So when Sherlock emerged from his room in the morning there was no breakfast in sight, just a freshly showered John Watson (because he couldn't let his routine slip completely, could he?) sitting in his chair, staring into nothingness with sad eyes.
"Thinking about Mary?" Sherlock asked, grabbing the kettle to fill it.
Sherlock's voice startled John almost violently out of his reverie, and he turned quickly in the direction it came from, his shoulders slumping again when he saw Sherlock filling the kettle. "Sorry, I should be doing that."
"Probably." Sherlock agreed, putting it on to boil, before turning back to observe John. He wasn't going to let John's less than subtle change of subject slide. He'd been biting his tongue over the subject all week, trying out a little tact for his friend's sake, and honestly it was getting tiring. "I really don't see why it's taking so long for you to come to a decision about Mary, despite what she did it's obvious she loves you, and the fact you're ruminating over it so often says you love her too. Where's the problem?"
"Love," John scoffed "what do you know about it? Mr Love-is-a-dangerous-disadvantage."
"For someone in my line of work, yes, but there's no reason the average person like yourself can't indulge. You know what I mean." Sherlock replied, quickly responding to John's 'who-are-you-calling-average' look.
John was quiet for a minute after that, and Sherlock resumed his tea making. It was as he was putting a mug down by John's elbow that his friend spoke again, in a softer and more dejected voice.
"You don't honestly believe in love, do you Sherlock? Almost every day you have clients come to you who you tell that their other half is cheating on them, stealing from them, planning to leave them, or worse. You probably see them everywhere as you walk down the street; the liars, the cheats, the homewreakers. How could anyone see all that and still believe in love?"
Sherlock paused at John's words. It was true, he did see all that, everywhere he went but... "That's not all I see." Abruptly he made a decision on how to help John, and put his undrunk cup of tea down on the side table, dashing across the room to grab his coat and scarf. "Come along, John." He called, chucking the mans coat at him.
"What? Where?"
"For a walk down the street." Sherlock smirked.
"But you're supposed..." John trailed off as Sherlock thundered down the stairs "to be resting. Nevermind." He got up, quickly throwing on his coat and hurrying after Sherlock, finding him at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him. As soon as John reached the bottom, Sherlock grinned at him, that 'the-game-is-on' smile, leading them out onto the street.
They hadn't gone five steps before Sherlock stopped them, looking through the glass front of Speedy's and nodding at a couple seated at the back of the cafe.
"There we go, if that's not love I don't know what is." He commented.
Oh so this is what we're doing is it? John thought. He followed Sherlock's lead, visually examining the couple before frowning.
"Love, huh? From here it looks like she's trying to flirt with him but he's not even remotely interested."
Sherlock whipped his head back to John, his face scrunched up in a classic 'how-are-you-not-getting-this?' look. "Well of course he isn't" then, a blank look and rolled eyes later, "Their left hands, John, look!"
John looked again, and only found himself more confused. "He has a wedding ring, but she doesn't. So they're not a couple then?"
"Obviously. They're work colleagues, on a business lunch. You're right that she's blatantly interested in him, all the signs are there, and he seems to be quite enjoying her company for most part, except whenever she flirts. She's not unattractive, and office affairs are easy enough to hide, so many do. Like that bacon sandwich he's enjoying which his wife would definitely not approve of. But while he's willing to hide lapses in his diet from her, cheating on her doesn't even enter his mind."
"What so not cheating on someone makes it true love does it?" John replied sarcastically as Sherlock turned away from the window, and they both started walking again. "Not your most convincing argument."
"Perhaps not, he was just the first person I saw though." Sherlock admitted, before his eyes lit up again, pointing to a man walking out of a florists. "Him though, he's a much better example."
"Because he's buying flowers, for his... Wife?" John looked for a ring without prompting this time. "Fairly stereotypical example of love, I'll give you that."
Again, the look. "He's anything but stereotypical John, typically men buy their wives flowers from supermarkets and petrol stations, they don't go through the effort of going to a florists. And then there's the type of flower, not just the stereotypical romantic flowers such as roses or tulips, but Dahlias. Look at his hands and suit, not a gardener by trade or even as a hobby, the only reason he knows to pick out those specific flowers is because they are his wife's favourite. Do you know your wife's favourite flower?"
"No it... hasn't come up." John admitted, though he would be sure to ask when this was over.
"Yes it has, when we were planning the wedding. Hyacinths*, they were in all the large flower arrangements, and we picked the colour of the bridesmaid dresses to match. You just weren't paying enough attention. Don't worry, most men don't, which is why that man's attention to detail is so remarkable. Also before you looked over I lip-read what he was saying to the florist. 'Same again next year.' The familiarity with which he said it suggested that this has always been the arrangement. Every year, for their anniversary most likely, he buys his wife a bouquet of her favourite flowers. And they say romance is dead."
"Okay that is sweet. But y'know that's still only for one day a year." John threw in, playing devils advocate.
Sherlock smirked at John's stubbornness, leading them into Regent's Park, always a good place for people watching. Sure enough it wasn't long before he was pointing again.
"Oo, there, them! Aren't they just disgustingly in love?"
John looked over at the young couple, walking hand in hand, smiling and casting each other loving glances from time to time. "Newly weds" he couldn't help but smile.
"You'd think so from the way they're acting, but no. Wear on the rings says these two have been married... 5 years, give or take. And yet they still look at each other like they've been married less than one. And see there! Above averagely attractive woman walks past, and he doesn't give her a second glance. Most men regardless of their fidelity would at least look twice at another beautiful lady once they've been married a couple of years."
John had to shamefully admit he'd been a little distracted by the other woman himself, as she was more than, as Sherlock put it 'above-averagely-attractive' but he was right, the other man didn't look. The man's head did turn though, and follow another woman walking past, decked in all the latest fashion.
"He's looking now." John pointed out smugly to Sherlock. But the raised eyebrows and nod he received in return said 'keep watching.'
So he did, and he saw the man turn back to his wife, leaning down to mutter in her ear. She looked back at the woman his husband had been watch, then turned back to him, the two of them bursting into giggles, before she playfully nudged him in the side as if telling him off. John looked back to Sherlock for an explanation.
"Really John, anyone could see that she wasn't his type. Both he and his wife wear simple timeless fashion, nothing like the flamboyant fads of the fashion victim they walked past. He was making sport of her, for his wife's entertainment. Clearly she has self-consciousness issues, was probably bullied in school by girls like the one who walked by, and it's his little way of telling her he loves her just the way she is. The bullying shows in her reflex to tell him off for making fun of anyone, but she can't help but enjoy it."
"Well it's not a box of chocolates, but I suppose it's sweet in it's own way." John commented.
So they walked on, Sherlock leading them out the park at the first opportunity and in the direction of a little cafe he knew of. John would be feeling his missed breakfast by now, and there was something else he wanted John to see there. Humans were creatures of habit after all, especially the elderly.
"Okay John, last one." He announced, slowing down and waiting as the old couple shuffled up to the cafe.
"Watch the step, dear." The old lady cautioned her husband.
"Be careful of the step, love" the deaf old man said a second later, having not heard her.•
John had to stifle a giggle as they followed the couple into the cafe. And chose seats not far away from them. Sherlock barely kept his voice down as he deduced them.
"Married over 50 years. She still repairs his clothes herself, by hand, even though they could afford to just buy new ones, and he buys her expensive jewellery, because he remembers a time when they couldn't."
"They are quite adorable." John smiled, still watching the older couple fussing over each other as Sherlock went up to the counter to order their breakfasts. His eyes had turned slightly sad again as Sherlock sat back down though.
"It's all very nice, Sherlock, you showing me these couples in love, but... Is it what me and Mary have?"
"You and Mary are exhibit A." Sherlock answered.
"But she lied to me!" John burst out.
"So?" Sherlock replied with equal fervour. "The man in Speedy's lies about his lunches. The old man lies to his wife about how much his pension is so he can put money away to buy her gifts. And I doubt the wife who gets flowers for her anniversary every year would appreciate them half as much if she knew the florist was her husband's old drug dealer! That was before he met her, he doesn't tell her for fear he'll lose her, but puts himself though the temptation of going back there every year, the only florist he can think of, because he wants to treat her, and it's that which gives him the strength to resist the cravings that make his hands shake until he walks out again."
John's jaw dropped at the extra information, the man with the shady past striking a chord in him.
"And the couple in the park?" He asked dazedly, but not failing to noticed they'd been left out.
"As I said. Disgustingly in love."
They both chuckled at that, as the waitress came over and put their breakfasts in front of them.
"I was going to say, since when did you get so... romantic?" John teased.
"Since you started using up enough cynicism for the two of us." Sherlock returned "Care to trade back? It is dreadfully tedious pretending to care about all these happily boring couples."
* apologies if this is inaccurate, I did try to look closely at a picture of the wedding, but my flower knowledge is sadly lacking and I just picked what I thought was closest.
• this actually happened once with a sweet old couple I know. So adorable.
Thanks for reading, please drop me a review of you liked it :)
