Title: Jealous?
Pairing: Sherlock x John
Rating: K
Summary: John was not jealous. Not over this, and especially not over one Miss Irene Adler.
A/N: So I somehow stumbled upon this today, and I'd only written a little to it. Because it was so long ago that this had been written, I've just left it as a drabble. Any ideas that I'd had for this has since long disappeared. Hope you enjoy anyway!
Jealous?
He really disliked her. No wait, he despised her.
John stared angrily at the phone in Sherlock's hand, his eye twitching every time that annoying moan sounded from it. Where did that woman get off? Incessantly texting Sherlock as if they were the best of friends. Or even… Lovers.
Of course, John wasn't jealous as such annoyed. In his mind, he had always thought that Sherlock and him had a connection that no one else had. Not love, no nothing as simple as that. But a sense of understanding and tolerance. They were the perfect match.
Sherlock needed John just as much as John needed Sherlock. Sherlock gave John the thrill and adventure like the war had, and John was Sherlock's grounding for being a normal human. Plus John made sure that the consulting detective didn't die of malnutrition.
Yes they were indeed a formidable duo, with nothing to come in between them. Nothing, until one Irene Adler.
As John sat, pondering these things in his mind, he missed the look that the dark haired detective sent his way. He did however, hear what was being said.
"Jealousy isn't a good look for you Watson. You should know by now that you are the only person I want." The sandy haired man looked up, mouth slightly agape as he was caught unawares.
"…I'm not jealous Sherlock." he said, however the words sounded false even to his own ears. Sherlock simply stared a little, before a sly smile made it's way to his face. The dark haired detective slowly made his way over to the doctor, who had to lean back slightly when Sherlock put his face mind numbingly close to his.
"Not jealous indeed. So you don't mind if I go and meet with Miss Adler right now?" John's mouth dropped open, shocked that Sherlock had even suggested such a thing while Sherlock leant back, a smug smirk planted firmly on his face. "I thought so. Come Watson, we're eating out tonight." And as Sherlock briskly walked to his room to grab his jacket and scarf, John could only utter one thing.
"I'm not jealous..."
END