A/N: I was at the gym today and while I was watching all those people this little idea popped into my head. Of course Sherlock doesn't have to work out because he does everything magically with his voice.
„This is not working anymore!"
John was looking at himself in the mirror for the fifth time today. He had never seemed Sherlock as vain or ostentatious but maybe he had just never shown it. Anyhow his constant complaining voice over the last few days had begun to disturb Sherlock in his thinking process. He could have ignored every other person who kept going on about their looks but he was just not able to blend out John's voice. The nagging began again.
"How did I get so out of shape? I don't know when that happened."
John turned around in front of the mirror and actually lifted his shirt to see what was underneath it. Sherlock thought what came out underneath his jumper looked very remotely like John had always looked but obviously John did not agree to his thought.
"This has to change. Now!"
Before Sherlock had decided whether he was really interested in joining John's conversation with himself, the very same had just left the room. Sherlock could hear his footstep going up the stairs and settled back into his mentally relaxed position since he hadn't moved physically. A few seconds later he found himself disturbed again as John called his name.
"Sherlock, where is my computer?"
Sherlock made a hand gesture towards his bedroom that John could have seen had he been in the same room. Since he wasn't he just repeated his question but louder. Sherlock was still not making a sound and waved again at his room. A few seconds later John came rumbling down the stairs.
"Ay, I asked you something. Where is my computer?"
For the third time Sherlock gestured towards his bedroom. John narrowed his eyes.
"Did you just do that when I asked you from upstairs? When you should have been aware that I could not see you? Never mind, I already know you did. You're impossible." He strolled into Sherlock's bedroom to retrieve his laptop from the detective's bed.
Sherlock startled again when suddenly loud music blared out of John's laptop that did not resemble the smooth kind of music that his flatmate preferred but rather a banging and some unidentifiable sounds that could only very widely belong to the field of music.
"Sorry," John muttered while franticly clicking on the desktop. "It just started playing and I can't find the right tab to stop it." He kept searching and Sherlock could hear him open tabs and closing them again. Suddenly he got up and snatched it away from John. With a few well positioned clicks he silenced the music and the routinely checked the websites that John had opened.
He frowned. "Why are you looking up gyms and" he paused for a moment "fitness studios in our area?"
Looking towards John he noticed that the same had turned a slight red and was now blushing even deeper under the detective's eyes.
"I used to be so fit, when I was in the army and today I can't even bring the groceries up the stairs without having to take a deep breath afterwards. I just think I need a little work out."
Sherlock was still starring at him. John closed his eyes in embarrassment for a second and took a deep breath. "Look, not all of us are built like a lanky lean consulting detective. Some actually have to work for it. I just want to be able to keep up."
"But you are keeping up when we chase criminals. You can defend yourself and you have defend both of us various times with your muscles. You are an excellent shot and have a calm hand. I really do not see what you could improve."
John shook his head lightly and managed a small smile. "Of course you can't see it. You are above these kind of feelings and I appreciate that but this is for myself. I don't like the way I look and I want to change it. Now give me back my computer."
Reluctantly Sherlock let go of the laptop and handed it back to John. It was still unintelligible to him how John could not see that he was good the way he was build and that Sherlock preferred it if he didn't change anything about it. But over the years he had learned sometimes only under severe negligence from his partner that he would never understand every reason behind John's seemingly mundane actions.
When John left the next morning he had his bags packed and a ready to rock expression on his face that somehow concerned Sherlock. He had not figured out why yet. Maybe it was just John's determination for doing something that had nothing to do with the world's only consulting detective. He had gotten used to having John's full attention on him, even more since they had finally gotten their, meaning John's, issues about sexual orientation out of the way.
Sherlock knew that John had a shift at the hospital and would probably then go on to try out training at the gym. Already last night he had analyzed John's computer and the opened pages to deduce to which gym John would go. He was nearly absolutely positive that John was going to attend a free try out training session at the "Fit and Firm Fitness Studio" short FFFS (Sherlock flinched at reading the awful name). They had a reasonable price for the offered possibilities, classes and free training, were in short distance and offered the free try out. John had also lingered relatively long on a page of a gym for elderly people but had then thankfully decided to leave that part of his mid-life-crisis to another date.
Sherlock was bored. John had left at a quarter to nine (to be exact at 8:44:54) and yet he was still not back. From Sherlock's calculations he should have been in the flat by now and enjoy the company of his partner before they went to bed. Although they had been sharing a bedroom for a while they still called it Sherlock's and John's bedroom out of convenience. Sherlock suspected that John feared he would open a second lab in his old bedroom if he stopped claiming the ownership of that space. Contrary to that believe Sherlock preferred working in the kitchen where everything was close, including John, although he would have loved to have some more storage room. Maybe he should carefully discuss this matter again with John. Before he could deepen that thought he heard someone moan from downstairs. Within a second he realized it was John and he leaped up already trying to figure out how badly John was injured by the noises he made. He jerked the door open to find a startled John at the middle of the stairs. He hurried down to meet him and offered his arm to support John's weight. At the same time he felt for wounds and broken bones.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?"
"I am tending to your wounds. Where does it hurt?"
John groaned in exasperation. "Everything hurts! Everything!"
Sherlock stopped him and looked him up. He could not find any wounds but maybe he was bleeding internally.
"What happened?"
John shook his head. "Look, I just want to sit down for a moment and drink some water. Preferably also shower since I am sure I reek of my and other people's sweat."
"Of course," Sherlock nodded and returned to the task of helping John up the stairs and onto the couch in the living room. "What do you need?" He asked with real concern in his voice.
"Just some water and I'll feel much better." John answered surprised by Sherlock's concern. Sherlock had already hushed away to get a glass of water. Coming back he asked: "What happened tonight?"
John took a sip and groaned. Even swallowing was painful. "That evil woman tortured me for two hours. I thought she was never going to stop. And another." He mocked a high pitched female voice.
Sherlock stared at him with his eyes wide open. "Who? Tell me her name and I will find her. Or at least Mycroft will find her."
John looked at him bedazzled: "I know who she is and where I can find her. Why would you want to go there too?"
"You know who she is? But how did she find you?"
"Sherlock, I am paying her for that, remember?"
"You are paying a woman to torture you? I had already suspected that the war had left deeper wounds in your sexual behavior than you are willing to admit but I had always assumed that when you are ready you would come to me with your wishes and we would work it out."
John was still not taking his eyes of Sherlock. "What sexual preferences that were influenced by the war? And what the hell has that in common with my visit at the gym?"
"Gym?" Sherlock repeated dumbstruck.
"Yes, the gym. I had my first try out training lesson today and the instructor was the absolute spawn of evil. She shouted at me for roughly two hours and made me do things with my body that I wasn't even able to do during my time in the army. She would have made a great captain."
Sherlock got up quickly and looked down at John judgingly. "So you are hurting because you had to do some sit-ups at the gym and not because you are secretly hurt?"
"Of course I am not hurt. I am just not used to working out anymore. Thank god I don't have to work tomorrow. I will be sore as hell."
"Well then, I assume you can get into bed alone. I still have some work to do." Sherlock turned around and walked into the kitchen leaving a stunned John behind who was wondering what had gone wrong this time.
A/N: Nope, Sherlock is not a computer specialist but I am assuming that he always installs all the usefull little ad-ons that he can find and there is actually one that can tell you on which page music is playing. I just really don't seem him sharing that knowledge with John.