Now betad by the lovely swimmergirl0726.

John had thought that if only he could find Sherlock a case to occupy him, the weekend would be relaxing. He had been wrong. Lestrade had brought them in on the latest homicide investigation, but since it had been so clear cut that he could have easily solved it himself, it had resulted in little else than Sherlock insulting the better part of the major crimes division and John having to pick up the pieces.

Add to that the fact that two new members had joined the team, and they were not taking kindly to Sherlock's presence, it had turned out to be a decidedly awkward weekend. John had been able to deflect most of their nasty comments and keep Sherlock out of their way, but he had the nasty feeling that it had been the beginning of what would turn out to be the very opposite of a beautiful friendship.

As he lay in bed on Sunday night he felt very uneasy. He had the feeling that pushing Lestrade into occupying Sherlock had been a very bad move. He was not one to be easily affected by other people's opinions, but after two days of basically intentionally allowing the young new officers to insult him over how superfluous he was and how clearly needy and pathetic it was to have the short little man trailing around the crime scene sucking up to the freak and making everyone cups of tea he felt anything but rested.

He knew that it had been necessary, if he had not allowed them to focus on him they would have had much more time to speak their ire of Sherlock out loud and the resulting conflict would not have been as easily managed.

Still, it had drained him. No one liked to spend their weekend being insulted and cut down in order to protect a friend who was completely oblivious to the fact that anything was amiss, not even John, no matter how much he cared for the stupid git. Hopefully soon enough something would turn up that actually interested Sherlock and John would be allowed to stop feeling like he was babysitting the great detective just to keep him from getting so bored that he blew up their flat.

John barely slept that night, despite being exhausted, and the next morning he was out of the flat before Sherlock was awake. He was looking forward to the distraction that work would bring and thought to himself that he might ask Sarah if she would go out for a platonic lunch together so that he could moan a bit about his infuriating flatmate and not least the horrid patients he'd had the past week. She would understand, and she would probably be supportive and things would not feel quite so bad.

Therefore it was a great disappointment when he arrived at work to find Sarah's office occupied by a middle aged man he had never seen before. He knocked hesitantly.

'Hello, I'm Doctor John Watson, where is Sarah?' He asked cheerfully, but the man looked up at him with a frown.

'Dr Sawyer has had to go away on family business; I am taking over for her in her absence. My name is Dr Hogg.' The man ignored John's outstretched hand and kept his eyes on the computer screen on Sarah's desk. John could not help but feel that it was something of an intrusion to see this unknown male sitting at Sarah's desk using her computer. Still, if she was away there was nothing else for it, although it was unusual to bring someone in from the outside instead of having one of their own team take over for Sarah while she was away.

'Well it was nice to meet you' John smiled and turned to leave. 'You let me know if there is anything you want to know about the surgery or anything.'

At that the man actually looked up at John, cold eyes fixing him with a calculating gaze. 'Ah… so you are one of those… I don't need the help of average GP to do my job. You just make sure you do what is expected of you, and I will manage the rest.' Dr Hogg, with no first name, waved him off and John could not help but feel a little like a schoolboy who has just been told off by the headmaster for giving him cheek.

It did not take John more than a few days to figure out that Dr Hogg did not like him and was doing his best to make sure that John felt the effects of being in his temporary boss' bad books. There was, of course, a long list of patients that everyone in the surgery detested having to deal with: the hypochondriacs, the addicts, the mothers convinced that their babies were dying if they so much as sneezed, the immigrants who really did not understand English but who refused the help of an interpreter… the list was long, and after two days John had swiftly figured out that every single one of these patients somehow found their way into his calendar.

He tried to ignore it, after all Sarah would be back soon and everything would return to normal. But then the whispers started.

John had always been well liked in the surgery. His kind manner and willingness to help anyone who asked and even sometimes those who hadn't asked had earned him a reputation as a thoroughly nice chap, despite the fact that he was not on the full time staff, and he got on well with everyone, or so he had thought. Therefore, it was a surprise when he found that some of his colleagues were looking suspiciously at him as he passed. Then he found that he was sitting on his own in the lunchroom with his colleagues taking their seats as far away from him as possible and he began to truly wonder what was going on.

When Friday rolled around and he overheard the nurses talking about the after work drinks that Dr Hogg had so kindly arranged John knew that things had progressed from slightly annoying to downright unpleasant as he found that he was the only member of the team who had not received an invite. It wasn't as if he really had the time to go, he needed to get home to Sherlock and do damage control if Sherlock still had not found a case to interest him, but he had never before not been invited to a work event and he always made an effort to at least go for a little while, so something in him felt decidedly uneasy to find that his colleagues had turned on him so easily with the replacement of their boss.

It was almost a relief when Dr Hogg told him that he would only be needed for one day the following week. He knew it would strain his budget, but he did not want to have to force his way through days in a place where he could clearly feel that he was not wanted.

So as his colleagues headed off to the pub, he picked up his jacket and made his way home to Sherlock. At least Sherlock always wanted his company.