The Demands of the Job

I own nothing but the plat, despite desperate pleas to higher orders ;)

Chapter 1

Or

How it started

John awoke with a start to the sound of his Lestrades' personalised ring tone. Rolling over to look at his bedside clock and seeing it was only 5:17 am, the good doctor groaned and picked up his phone.

"I hope you realise what time it is Greg, I'm not Sherlock you know."

"I'm sorry John, but it is kind of urgent, we have a...a situation, Sherlock was helping with one of our cases last night and there was an incident"

John was suddenly far more awake. "Is everyone okay, is Sherlock okay?!"

"Calm down John, nothing like that, there was a altercation between Anderson and Sherlock, anyway, yeah, Anderson is pressing charges and I need someone to come and bail Sherlock out. He is driving the other people in the holding cells crazy, both guard and inmates alike."

Sighing and resigned to his early morning activities John responded tiredly.

"I'll be there shortly, I'm not pleased though, and chances are Anderson started the whole thing, he usually does in case you hadn't noticed"

"Sure, sure, see you soon John"

Hanging up from the detective inspector John threw on some clothes and headed out to New Scotland Yard.

Arriving at the Yard before 6am, John marched up the stairs, not bothering to sign in at the front desk. He'd been helping Sherlock long enough that Lestrade had pulled some strings and gotten him a entry pass; made being in a hurry so much easier. Knocking on Lestrades' office door and entering without waiting for a reply, he found Anderson, Donovan and Sherlock sitting in front of the Detective Inspector, looking at him with a mixture of utter resentment and contempt.

"Take a seat Dr Watson; I've come up with a solution to stop all this nonsense and tension between these three."

Eyeing Sherlock wearily, noticing his hands to still be in cuffs, John turned his attention to the D.I, giving him a pointed stare before quickly darting his eyes to the self proclaimed sociopaths' wrists.

"Yes, alright, here John, you should be grateful to have such a friend Sherlock" Lestrade added pointedly.

John released his bonds and handed the keys and cuffs to the D.I then took to leaning against the wall nearest Sherlock.

"So plans hey? I notice these three are awfully quiet, what have you gone and done?"

"You're not going to like this either John, and I am sorry, I truly am, but since Sherlock won't show up alone, I expect you to be able to assist. Starting tomorrow, and every day for the next six days, the four of you are going into group therapy for team work and understanding."

John just stared, open mouthed, at Greg,

"You cannot be serious Greg,

a. I had nothing to do with this,

b. I'm Sherlock's friend and partner, not keeper, and

c. What possible good could come from this?!"

"If you and Sherlock wish to retain jobs from New Scotland Yard, then you will BOTH attend, every evening at seven, and before you start John, I know you have work, but I cannot do a thing about it."

"I see and what about Anderson and Donovan, if they do not attend?" John asked politely

"Demotions for non-compliance"

"Well okay then" John said sounding chipper all of a sudden

His fellow therapy goers looking at him suddenly for his quick change of attitude, but he spoke again just as quickly, his voice changing to what Sherlock had long ago dubbed his Captain mode.

"But if I am going down, I'm taking you with me, no arguments, we suffer, you suffer, same conditions, except I'll get the Chief Inspector involved or better yet. Mycroft Holmes"

Sherlock just smirked, he knew John could be feisty, but this was brilliant. Greg just stared at John, John held his gaze. Never argue with the military training Sherlock thought to himself.

"Fine." Unhappily and blunt.

"Fine." replied John, chipper once more.

"Come on Sherlock, we are going home." Anderson and Donovan continued to look dumb struck at the arrangement, still not moving or saying anything.

"Remember to text me the address Inspector" and with that the Consulting Detective and his faithful blogger left.

John was mad; you didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to know that. The ride home was a quiet one.

Upon entering the flat John went straight to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and pulling out two teacups, he put them down rather hard. Sherlock had gone straight to his couch and was in a full on sulking mood when John handed him his tea.

"No point in sulking Sherlock, and I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at the whole situation. No matter, we'll bluff our way through the week; I'll call Sarah and rearrange some of my shifts."

John's phone beeped with the address. Sherlock still said nothing and didn't touch his tea. John just sighed, some day off this was turning out to be.