Disclaimer: It saddens me deeply... but I don't own anything... not even a hair. This is just random stuff that popped in my head yesterday afternoon. Based on BBC Sherlock.


Sentiment

By Uyuki

"I imagine John Watson thinks love is a mystery to me, but the chemistry is incredibly simple and very distractive"

Was it really? Distractive sure… but simple?

During the past few days Sherlock had found himself thinking about feelings. Not only about love, of course, but it was the one currently occupying his mind. And it was really annoying.

He didn't remember ever caring about anybody, not even about his family… but over the past few years he had started to... care? worry? about John. With him always accompanying him on cases, he had managed to put him in extreme danger at least in three different occasions. And he was only counting the really worrying ones, if he counted them all, it would definitely be a much bigger number.

But this last time... when John had been held at gun point in Irene's house was different somehow. He wasn't exactly sure how, he just knew it was. There had been an ever so small hint of desperation on his own voice when he kept yelling that he didn't know the code to the safe.

He actually had hoped the Americans would believe his acting, but when he realised they had all the intention to shoot his partner he shouted as loud as he dared.

"No! Stop!"

What the hell had happened to him?

He, the great Sherlock Holmes, actually, truly caring about someone else? And John Watson at that!

Shelock picked up his violin and started playing music randomly to try and appease his mind. He needed to think objectively, and for the first time in his life, he couldn't.

He was sure it wasn't actually love… well, almost sure. He had never felt it before, so he had to rely on other signs to dismiss it, and since there was actually no desire whatsoever for John, or a deep need for him to be there all the time he figured it couldn't be love. It just didn't fit with his observations of lovers.

So, that left him with caring.

That one might just fit. And maybe, he could even add a dash of fondness for the former soldier.

For his only friend.

Through the window, Sherlock saw John Watson returning home wiht a bag of groceries... and he couldn't help but smile.

Oh, the irony! He had grown fonder of John that he had of his own brother, and he had spent far less time with the first. If Mycroft ever knew (and Sherlock was sure he would), he would never see the end of the mockery. Sherlock Holmes caring for his flatmate.

No wonder everyone thought they were a couple.

He heard the door open and then John's steps as he climbed the stairs. He stopped playing the violin when he heard John entering the flat.

"Ok, so I brought food for me to eat this time" he said while placing everything in the kitchen. "Please don't use any of it on an experiment."

"Mmm."

"And I've got bread for you, seeing you only seem to like toasts."

"Thank you, John."

The doctor acknowledged the thanks and sat on his chair turning his computer on to write up yet another case. Sherlock resumed the violin.

He would have to find a way to cope with this newly found emotion that had seemed to lodge inside him, so that it wouldn't become... distractive. But, he would do that later on, for the rest of the afternoon he didn't want to think about it anymore. He just wanted to let it be.

Get to know this new sensation. Embrace it, even.

Because... it made him feel good. Happy even. To know he could harbour feelings towards someone else made him feel a little bit more human.

Though, he would never admit it out loud.


Ok... some notes on this. It's not meant to be slash per se... but if you squint a little there might be some hints of it. I actually thought about this yesterday afternoon, just before my music theory class, I just jolted down the idea and wrote it up this morning. It might be a little rushed, it might not be very polished... but I decided to leave it like that.