Chapter 2
"John! John Watson!"
The man in question – if you didn't realise, which is completely fine by the way, the man in question is John Watson – turned to see an old colleague of his. To be precise, he had seen him immediately earlier while walking down the hallway, but because he a Bitter and Reminiscent temperament, he didn't really want to put up with socialising.
But he didn't initiate a move like a seasoned introvert – namely, turning abruptly on his heel and limping away rapidly, face etched with the self-loathing of a man retrieving a crucial forgotten item. Instead, being new to the sport, he continued on his path and hoped to heaven that Mr Stamford did not perceive him.
"John!"
He did. In case you did not realise. Which is completely fine. By the way.
"Oh, Mike, hi," John said, with as much sincerity as he could fake. (M*A*S*H reference! *cries at how inactive the M*A*S*H fandom is nowadays*)
"That was pretty mean," Stamford informed him.
"Don't mention it," John said.
"Yeah, I'm not going to." And he didn't.
Stamford was sort of pudgy, but in a nice way.
"I know, I got fat," he pointed out.
John made a half-hearted attempt to placate him, but to be honest, it suited him. Maybe John could have seen that too if he wasn't so miserable. (Quick shout-out to the John/Stamford shippers.)
"Everyone has already seen this exchange about a hundred times," Stamford continued, "so I'll just cut to the chase. You're being evicted from your brown office."
"That wasn't in the series," John protested.
Stamford leaned in close. "Plot twist," he whispered. And he kissed John on the cheek.
John did not notice. He never did.
"I can't afford to live in London on an apprenticeship pension," he moaned.
"And you can't bear to live anywhere else," Stamford conciliated. "Not the John Watson I – "
"Yes, yes, we all know it," John interrupted. "We know A Study in Pink off by heart. Let's save some time and this poor writer's hands; they're aching, and you know she's a hypochondriac."
"You're the second person who's said that to me today."
John made eye contact for maybe the first time. Stamford's poor heart soared.
"Who was the first?"
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A/N: Seriously, where is the M*A*S*H fandom these days? Can someone give me directions? Probably not the time nor place for these little shout-outs but oh, well. This chapter was quite short but so is my patience. And John.
Furthermore: trust me, the beautiful Sherlock Holmes himself will make his debut next chapter.