Chapter 2
A/N: Enough people thought I should do a follow up that I decided I will. I ended last chapter on an ambiguous note and people mentioned they wanted to see things that even I had originally planned on including.
"You are my work." The words rang in John's head through the night and into the next morning when he and the detective arrived on scene of a murder. They had both fell asleep in each other's arms and woke to Lestrade texting both of them. They still haven't spoken about what happened.
"John, give me a diagnosis."
"He's dead."
"Obviously he's dead John, don't be dull. How did he die?"
John swallowed before kneeling down near the body. "Asphyxia. There's a blue fiber on his mouth, it matches the pillow on the bed. The body was staged, there would have been sign of a struggle but his arms are down by his sides."
"Very good John. Now, who killed him?"
"The wife?"
Sherlock scoffed, "You're guessing, don't guess."
"It's always the wife." John mumbled.
Sherlock let out a sigh, "Nail polish on the pillow, chartrux, an unusual color, the wife had new manicure today but the right index finger was smudged. One doesn't go through the trouble of getting a manicure if it isn't immaculate. Oh, and it was definitely not pre meditated."
"You know entirely too much about manicures."
"I know exactly as much as I need to know about them for my work John."
"I was right though." John said smugly.
"You guessed, it doesn't count if you guessed."
"I never guess." The shorter manned teased.
Sherlock was still proud that John was catching onto how to deduce things. He had never tried teaching the art to anyone else, he thought it was above the mental capacities of normal people. But John was special.
"Right, well, good job Sherlock" Lestrade liked to stand back out of the way of Holme's insults as he analyzed the scene.
Sherlock gave the DI a firm nod before turning back to John, "Angelos?"
"Alright." John was getting use to leaving a crime scene only minutes after arriving.
"freak solve another one then? Sure he didn't place it here himself?"
In an attempt to avoid human interaction John ignored Donovan while trailing behind the detective, until she cut him off.
"You know he's a loon right? He's probably not safe to be around, he even laughs while at crime scenes." Her words were muffled but cut like daggers.
John calm down, don't get mad here he repeated to himself.
"Just trying to get through the door," He avoided eye contact with her and noticed Sherlock outside the small flat had stopped to wait for John.
Donovan's eyes quickly scanned over John's body to his great annoyance. "Does he pay you? I can't think of any other reason you would follow him to crimes scenes and take his abuse."
Don't answer that, ignore her. "No, just trying exit if you could allow me." His voice remained calm but he could feel the pressure building in his head.
"And I know you can't be his friend, that freak has no friends. So why do you-"
"Get the bloody hell out of my way!" His voice was louder then he had realized, even Lestrade turned to see what had happened. "He- We, show up and solve your damn crimes for you and all you can think of doing with that miniscule brain of yours is insult him and make assumptions about me. So how about instead of that and screwing Anderson you go do you damn job. Now kindly get out of my way!" The vein on John's forehead was very propionate. He wasn't sure what had come over him but he was done with playing games with people he never gave a second thought about.
He pushed his way past her as Sherlock followed his stride off the premises.
Angelo's was walking distance from the crime scene, Sherlock estimated they had walked 67% of the way their without either of them exchanging a single word.
'Do I mention what happened last night? That I would like for that to happen again? Or that he is mad? Do I stay quiet because he is mad? Do I thank him for defending my honor to Sally? Or should that go unmentioned since I am the reason he got mad at her? Maybe I can just take his hand and walk in slice? Or will that be too much? He always insists he's not gay, perhaps last night was just a fluke or some kind of … sentiment?' Sherlock was lost in thought.
"I- I'm sorry about that Lock." John's voice seemed distant, Sherlock had just barely caught the words.
"Sorry about what? The walk? The lack of exchange of words? I'm hardly offended, just wondering what protocol would be."
"Oh, no, not that, well I'm sorry about that too. I meant what Donovan said."
"Why would you apologize for Donovan upsetting you?"
"I mean what she said… about you, and how I yelled."
"You have no control over what someone else says John, but frankly I was rather amused when you did raise your voice." Sherlock's lips curled to show his satisfaction.
"Er, right then."
They had approached Angelo's, Sherlock stepped ahead and opened the door, waiting for John to walk in before him. He was 89% sure that he was socially inclined to do this assuming the events of last night would no be forgotten by his flat mate.
John paused unsure what was going on, "Oh, uh, thank you?" He walked in.
Sherlock followed but his expression had dropped a bit. "Was I not supposed to do that?"
Before John could say either way Angelo himself came out to sit them at their regular table in the window seat. "Ah you two! Here again! Let me just get a candle for the table."
Sherlock watched John intently, he didn't protest to the candle this time, but then he hadn't the last time either. Maybe he had just given in and still didn't want it?
"John, the usual for you then?" Angelo's voice was as robust as ever, John gave a simple nod. "And Sherlock, eating tonight?"
Sherlock's hands where in their classic thinking pose as his eyes narrowed. "I think so… pasta?"
"Coming right up!"
Sherlock continued to watch John for any sign of a social que or even hidden clues as to what his next move should be.
John mindlessly brought his hand to his neck, lightly squeezed the side, then rand it to his shoulder.
"Shoulder hurts?"
"Just a bit."
"Sorry. That was probably from last night. Not your regular sleeping position I would imagine."
John's expression grew uneasy. "Right." So they would be discussing it after all. "About that… last night I mean."
"Wont happen again."
John wasn't expecting to hear that. "Oh. Uh…" He tried to think of something to respond to that. 'This is a good thing, you're not gay, we can put this behind us now. ' These thoughts didn't help though, the monotone words Sherlock had said had actually hurt him. 'If he doesn't want me then that's fine. At least I know now. ' His eyes subconsciously dropped as his shoulders slouched.
Sherlock had taken this in, always the experimenter. "I'm sorry John. But the couch in that position was just too uncomfortable. We'll just have to sleep in one of the beds."
The doctor's eyelids fluttered Did I hear him right?
"That is of course if you would like to repeat last night."
"Yes!" John blurted out before he knew what he was saying. His hand instinctively raised to cover his mouth.
The detective smirked. "Well if you're that enthusiastic about then I must insist."
The doctor's face felt hotter then a moment ago, "But… where does this put us?"
"My bed is closer to the main part of the flat, but you can choose whichever room you want."
"No, no, not that. I mean. What is this? Between us?"
Sherlock blinked. He wasn't really sure. He only knew that last night holding his blogger in his arms as he fell to sleep was strangely satisfying.
"This is more then just sleeping arrangements right?" John's face was too hard for Sherlock to read.
"Well, it would be preferable if you didn't date any more women." Sherlock had no idea how to word what he wanted from John but luckily at this the doctor's face softened a bit.
"You don't know what you're doing do you?" It sounded sweet coming from him, not harsh like when a police officer accused Sherlock of not knowing what he was doing, but that had been the only context anyone had ever used the line on him before, as an accusation.
Sherlock looked down, the food will arrive soon.
"It's ok."
Sherlock looked back up, John was smiling at him.
"Just tell me everything you want from me, alright?"
Sherlock nodded and thought for a moment. There was in fact quite a lot he wanted from John.
A/N: So this is not the last chapter. I'm not sure how many there will be, but a couple more at least. There's an actual direction I'm going in.
