Well as you know the Sherlock season 3 trailer has been released, and there's the part where it looks like Sherlock has be pushed down onto the floor and many have guessed that he's dazed on the floor because of the long awaited punch John is undoubtedly going to deliver. Most assume that John gives this blow because of obvious reasons of Sherlock's faking-death scheme, but I thought that perhaps it could be something else and that's where I got the idea for this fanfic, I hope you guys enjoy my theory!
~Kels
This is it, Sherlock thought, oh I can't wait to see the look on his face. Of course he'll be mad at first, but come on, this is John, and he'll always bounce back. Sherlock side-stepped out of the back room, having just changed into a waiter's outfit, he loved the disguise on him because it was the first time in a long time that he got the chance to put one on.
Sherlock strode smoothly across the room as he spotted the back of John's head. Across from John sat a poised and distinguished woman, but Sherlock didn't really care, he'd guessed that she was just another date. Though Sherlock still couldn't help but note that this was an awfully expensive restaurant to bring any ordinary girl to. But the lanky man moved on anyway until he was just behind John and he briskly rounded to stand at the side of their table and properly play out his front.
"Welcome, could I interest you in any of our exquisite wines this evening?" Sherlock asked chirpily as any other waiter at the establishment might do.
John was still gazing at his menu when he answered mildly, "Yes, but I don't see the selection anywhere," he looked up and froze at the face that stared keenly back. John couldn't believe his eyes, it just wasn't possible, he hadn't seen that face in person for three years and he wondered how he could still even recognize it. Was he hallucinating? John gawked in bewilderment and finally managed to stammer under his breath, "Sher, Sherlock?"
Sherlock smiled his smug little smile and crooned, "Hello, John."
Still John ogled, that part of my life is over, has been, John thought, why is my past coming back to haunt me?
"By the way," Sherlock added glancing over at the blonde woman who was watching the exchange with pronounced concern, "not your best catch."
Instantaneously John stood up and in one fluid motion brought his fist up to make shattering contact with Sherlock's jaw. "Her name is Mary." John spat.
Completely caught off guard Sherlock took the blow with something a little less than elegance as he began to stumble. Mycroft's words rang through Sherlock's head; he's got on with his life. And so he was right. Sherlock remembered a time when John would clock the chief of police simply for a minor insult. Now this woman possessed that inalienable privilege and the tables were unforgivingly turned. Sherlock had never felt so abandoned in the realization that John had truly gotten on with his life and that the detective had been replaced.