If there was one thing that Sherlock Holmes knew for absolutely certain in his extensive arsenal of knowledge it was this. John Watson was a fool. A lost and trusting fool. He watched him set himself down in the arm chair opposite to him and flip the paper open. The pure aura that John Watson exuded was a worry some and rather sickening trait. As he gazed at him he couldn't help but imagine the white wings. His stomach wrenched at the thought of his living with someone so sterile. But as he watched he reminded himself of something… This particular man was the only thing keeping himself from falling from grace.
He knew that nothing he could have done would have brought someone so perfect for the job. The only real shred of credit he would ever give Mycroft in life. He then turned his attention to the French song on the radio.
"Its quiet lovely." John stated from behind his paper.
"Not hardly… what a perfectly annoying thing to sing about." Sherlock sighed drumming his fingers on the armchair.
"Stop it." John sighed looking over his paper.
"Stop what ?" Sherlock asked his finger tapping quieting.
"Being such an ass." John stated dryly.
When no answer came back to his question he sighed and flopped his paper down in his lap. Sherlock was now off somewhere else and John sighed rolling his eyes.
"Someone called by the way if your ready to cooperate with the public today." John stated lifting his computer up off the floor. John then proceeded to open the computer and mumbled miffed, "Doesn't listen to a damn word I say. Doesn't even care there might be a case."
The ring of John's cell phone cracked through Sherlock's fragile attention span and he snatched it up off the table.
"Yes Lest rod?" he answered.
"Hey ! That does happen to be my phone by the way! Not really sure if you forgot or…" John began in protest.
"Give me 5 minuets…" Sherlock replied cutting Watson off. He quickly shut the phone and glanced at John.
"The police found a young man in the river." he reported jumping up from his armchair.
It had become odious to Sherlock that his partner had become a bit too good at whoring him out to the police.
"Of course we will… I'm not making any promises with Sherlock though." He listened to John say and rolled his eyes slightly.
John watched his tall friend glide over to them and plant himself next to a rather flustered Molly.
:I guess I should get the body then … thank you John for your help." she squeaked. Both of them watched the small mouse like woman disappear behind the ambulance doors.
"Why doesn't she ever thank me." Sherlock mumbled gazing after her.
"Maybe if you weren't such a jerk people would be more grateful to you." John replied curtly.
Sherlock looked down at the shorter blond man and saw his face. The pale man's face was painted a slight pink and scrunched up in obvious annoyance.
"All of you people are truly fools." Sherlock sighed the injuries on the dead boy's body skipping like a slide show in his head.
"You always say that but if you haven't notice Holmes… you seem to be the only fool." John sneered as Molly appeared in their line of vision. He watched John's face relax as the small woman approached once more.
"I forgot John … do you think you could watch someone for me." she squeaked dropping her head embarrassed. She inched as far away from Sherlock as she could possibly get and held out a canvas bag. Sherlock watched John take the bag and leaned over his shoulder as he opened the bag.
"I'm sure it won't be any trouble …" John concluded smiling at her.
"Thank you John…" she smiled back a single tear sliding down her face.
Sherlock watched confused at her reaction to parting with the bag.
"What was that?" he asked john trying to take the bag from his hands.
"Nothing someone like you could understand." John sighed looking at him solemnly.
Yet another thing he had recently observed about John Watson. He had a terrible habit of getting him to care.
Sherlock had learned that Molly was moving her house and had asked them to help her . He had no intention in coming and was far more interested in the contents of the canvas bag. He had been slightly perturbed at the fact john had kept it locked in his room all night therefore preventing his from inspecting it. He watched John slide on his work shirt over his head as he made his way down the steps and into their flat. His heart bounced against his ribs harder than usual and gazed at his chest confused.
"I think I may have a disease…" he concluded gazing up at the ceiling.
"You look fine…" John concluded slipping his jacket on.
"Aren't you supposed to be a doctor?" Sherlock jeered rolling his eyes.
"Yes but you see even if I tried to make you better you wouldn't do what I told you." John retorted.
"I would if it was smart…" he replied softly rubbing his eyes.
"Besides I don't have time for you … Molly asked for my help today and whether your going or not is none of my concern." John announced opening the kitchen cabinet.
"don't mess with Molly's item either." he added slipping a protein bar into his coat pocket. Sherlock groaned and then rolled away from him on the couch.
"You wouldn't understand even if you did find it." John sighed as he closed the door behind him. Sherlock listened to his go down the stairs and the bang of the front door and he leapt up from the couch. He opened the door an d quietly slid into the hall. He had honestly thought it was rather valiant on John's part to try and protect Molly. But his curiosity was a very powerful force behind his existence. On most occasions he would have left the bag alone and moved on. But the more he thought about the way Molly was with it intrigued him. As he had suspected John had locked the door but with a slight shove he loosened it and snapped the knob off the door. The door swung open slightly and he slipped the knob into his robe pocket. The room was made up and he spotted the bag on the floor.
"For being so special he certainly put it someplace unprotected." he muttered softly dumping out the contents on the bed.
Out tumbled a skull and a picture. Sherlock observed the picture briefly and then turned his attention to the skull. It was odiously a skull of a feline. He picked it up and smiled a little. Around its jaw that was wired together sat a metal tag.
"Lumbar." he smiled slightly as he read the worn tag. The cat skull amused him immensely and he tucked it in his other pocket without the knob and then looked at the photo. It was a photo of a middle age woman with deep wrinkles from being in the sun too much. But that aside her face was still very young and vibrant. His eyes searched her face and saw the clouded and distant look planted there as if she was alone. She was obviously not from a recent time period … early 1900s if that. A small animal sat in her lap and he squinted to see it better and saw it was a mouse. The small creature sat perched on her left leg with a small piece of lace tied around its tiny neck.
"Odd…" he breathed laying the picture back down inside the bag. He then happily gazed into his pocket at the cat skull and then walked out the door. He quietly contemplated the picture and fixed the door knob.
"So much fuss over a cat skull and picture …" he grumbled going back down the steps.
A good hour later he had polished and cleaned the teeth of the cat skull and set the small object on the table. He lay his head level with it and gazed into its empty eye sockets.
"A dead pet no doubt…" he sighed steepling his fingers.
"I thought I told you not to touch Molly's things?" John demanded as he entered the room. Sherlock tried ignoring his presence but his voice came again.
"Hello? Are you that dense that you can't follow directions?" John asked the annoyance seeping into the question.
"I pay half of the rent John .. There for the house is mine as well. I fail to see how your need for privacy is any issue of mine." he replied blankly.
"Honestly I don't feel like arguing with you right now." John muttered softly as he say down in his arm chair. " by the way did you happen to do anything productive today? Like work on the case?" he added gazing at Sherlock who was fixated on the cat skull.
"Busy…" Sherlock replied not taking his eyes off the skull.
"With looking at a cat skull…really? There's a dead boy and I'm sure his family would like to know what happened to him." John stated angrily.
"Do you know what this skull is from?" Sherlock asked ignoring Watson's scolding.
"I give up…" John sighed.
The flat then became silent and the clock on the wall was the only sound present. He continued to gaze at the skull and then sighed.
"That boy's right hand was covered in black ink you know." Sherlock announced. John turned around as looked at him.
"No he didn't… his hands were clean… the water washed all minute traces off him at high tide….But I'm wrong aren't I?" John sighed rubbing his temples.
"Nothing unusual there… " Sherlock smirked looking at John. He watched John's face go red and then to a light pink. He noticed that this wasn't his usual expression.
"John?" he questioned. He watched the blond man's face get redder and then he turned away.
"Nothing…"John muttered getting up from his chair. The room got quiet once again and Sherlock watched John's body language closely.
"Agitated…" He concluded softly getting up from the kitchen chair. The shorter man twitched uneasily in his spot as Sherlock turned on the radio. John gazed over at the taller man and gave him a confused look.
"Would you like to dance?" Sherlock asked holding out his hand.
"What?… your Looney…"John scoffed.
"Why?… I know that dancing relaxes you…" Sherlock retorted taking the other man's hand.
"How exactly do you know that?" Watson asked gazing at the dark hair man levelly.
"Sometimes you forget to shut your door at night and I see you dancing to some horrid French music." Sherlock replied smirking as John's face went pink.
"Damn you're so nosey…" John laughed. "But honestly …I don't want to dance with you." he added pulling his hand away.
"are you afraid?" Holmes asked raising an eyebrow.
"No. there just isn't a reason for me to… besides why do you care whether I'm stressed? You're the only reason I am …" John spat.
"Its an experiment…" he explained dryly taking his hand again. This time he gave him no time to protest and yanked him into position. He watched the blond man's face crinkled up in annoyance and smirked down at him.
"If you want me to dance you have to let me lead…" John growled.
"Fine…" he relented shrugging his shoulders.
"Seriously?" John asked pausing slightly. He nodded his head amused and placed his hand on John's shoulder. The smaller man looked up at him warily and placed his hand on Sherlock's waist. Their fingers intertwined and the music played on. They glided around the room slowly and Sherlock watched John's face become seamless as watched as his eyes became clouded . He caught the other man's eyes and smirked.
"What exactly is interesting about this Holmes?" Watson asked .
"I've always wondered what it was like to see your face not stressed…" he replied softly. "And I also though it would be interesting to find out if everything I've read about dancing is true… Some books say that dancing with the right person is like having sex with them… But I'm sure that's rubbish." he explained shrugging is shoulders.
"What?!" Watson demanded his face getting red again. Sherlock watched as the other man lost his rhythm and to his horror they both went tumbling to the floor. They both hit the thin carpeted floor and he realized something.
As he looked down at John Watson his heart was racing. He got confused and felt his chest. It was thumping powerfully and his face was getting red. He quickly placed his hand over John's chest and felt they were racing at the same speed. He sighed with relief at the information and looked at John's face.
'Can you get off me please?" he asked his face obviously flushed.
"Absolutely…" he replied jumping up off the floor. He held out his hand to the smaller man and he took it lightly. Sherlock hauled John to his feet and they were both back on the floor.
"Damn…" John breathed trying to get up. Sherlock looked at the man's body language and smirked.
"John Watson… your aroused aren't you?" he asked as John got up off the floor. His face said it all and Sherlock laughed.
"You truly are …" John began trying in vain to defend himself. His face was bright red and drawn with stress and annoyance as he turned his head away from a rather amused Sherlock.
"Truly what. Attractive?" Sherlock asked raising an eyebrow as he sat propped up against the coffee table. The dark haired man watched John's face flash through hundreds of different emotions and then began to walk towards the kitchen.
"You're mad…" he breathed and Sherlock felt a strange sense of …of what? What was it?
Disappointment… He felt his stomach curl uneasily at the information and he looked at the short blond man leaning on the sink.
Emotions were bothersome and far too weak for someone like him. But then again…
"John?" he asked softly pushing himself off the floor.
This behavior even he knew was uncharacteristic of his usual self and that bothered him immensely.
John looked at him and his face was still completely red.
"Did I ever notice how lovely he looked like that?" Sherlock asked himself . His brow l furrowed and he gazed at the smaller man.
"What do you want?" John asked running his hand through his hair.
"You seem sick…" Sherlock stated. He brought his face close to John 's and leaned his forehead against his flat mate's.
John's face went a million directions and he went completely stiff.
"I almost wish I hadn't notice…" Sherlock stated in almost a whisper answering his own question.
Was he in love? Him. Sherlock Holmes. He had always thought someone so normal like John Watson would simply annoy him. But as the heat from John's skin mixed with his he felt his heart pound.
"I always wanted to be alone…" he breathed as he moved his head onto John's neck.
John's body was still stiff but his hands were shaking.
Sherlock took his hand and glided his lips over John's hot neck. A small gasp escaped John's lips and it snapped Sherlock back to reality.
While advances like that would be alright with him he knew John Watson was far too trusting.
He dropped John's hand and then backed away.
He saw the confusion and pain evident on his face and he turned to leave the room.
"I'll give you some time…" he stated as the room became silent again.