Tension Makes a Tangle - 4

I was a bit nervous, as Sherlock and I went into the pub that evening. I didn't know how either Sherlock or Harry would behave, and I didn't know if they would even be able to tolerate each other. Harry's and my relationship was strained as it was, so I couldn't predict what the result of introducing Sherlock would do.

We found Harry, already halfway through what I hoped was her first pint. She waved cheerfully at us and then gave me an enthusiastic hug. She looked pale, sickly, and far too thin.

I made the introduction between Harry and Sherlock, and as soon as they'd shaken hands, Harry was off and running.

"So," she began, "Sherlock Holmes, the famous detective! I've been dying to meet you for the longest time. I've read John's blog since the beginning. Do you know it's more about you than it is him? He absolutely adores you, you know."

After a brief pause when Sherlock didn't respond Harry continued, "So, please do your thing on me! What can you deduce?"

I could see Sherlock's lips thin in irritation, and he seemed to be biting back a nasty remark on my account, because he glanced at me briefly. He hates being treated like a performing bear at the circus.

"I'm afraid I already know enough about you and John that it really wouldn't be an entirely fair deduction on my part. I'm privy to information that I wouldn't normally have on just meeting someone," he said.

Harry made a disappointed face, "Well, you're no fun! And John said that you enjoy showing off!"

"Harry! I never said any such thing!" I looked over at Sherlock anxiously.

Sherlock merely looked bored and asked, "Shall we order?"

I ordered a pint with my dinner, but Sherlock stuck with water. Harry ordered another pint for herself with her meal.

Once that was done, Harry went back on the offensive: How were we getting on? Were we keeping busy? Could she hear any of the details on our cases that hadn't been made public? And then, of course, who was I currently dating?

"Erm," I replied, not knowing what to say. I hadn't discussed with Sherlock if we were going to be public or not.

"Me," Sherlock said shortly.

There was a beat of silence around the table, and then Harry was off again.

"I knew it! I knew it! (to Sherlock) I knew John was crazy about you. (to me) I always KNEW you'd finally get out of the closet! All those women you dated, they were never what you needed, were they?"

Harry giggled while I wanted to die of embarrassment.

"Harry, please…" I began, but she cut me off.

"Oh, what fun! We need to have a coming out party for you. And, the three of us can go out clubbing! Well, I have to say, John, you waited long enough, but I suppose it was worth the wait, eh? He's quite a looker, although I never thought you could be comfortable with someone that much taller than you are. But maybe it's what you like after all?"

"Harry!" I hissed through gritted teeth.

It made no difference, she kept going, but the next step was one too far.

"So Sherlock, how old were you when you knew you were gay?"

Sherlock looked at Harry coldly, "I don't know that I am. John is the first man I've ever had an interest in. I suspect that I, like most of the population, am bisexual in some degree. As for a preference for one gender over another, I cannot help you, as I've been celibate all my life due to a general lack of interest."

Harry gaped at him, but at least it shut her up for a few seconds.

She then turned to me and asked, "Is he serious?"

"Yes," I replied, I could feel the beginnings of a first-class headache.

She turned back to Sherlock, "So you've never dated? You've never...before John you were a..."

"Yes, now that we've covered my sexual history, let's discuss your drinking, hmm?" Sherlock began.

My toes curled, this was going to be bad.

"You drink at least 5 alcoholic drinks a day, and have been for most of your adult life. You keep a large bottle of liquor, probably cheap gin, by your bed to help you sleep and to help you get out of bed in the mornings. You're in the early stages of cirrhosis of the liver, which you know, but haven't told your brother. But the most puzzling thing to me is why you continue to choose alcohol over John? I would gladly never take another sip of an alcoholic beverage, if it meant I could stay in his life. Yet, given the choice you'd rather keep drinking than spend time with him. That seems incredibly stupid to me. You've not only estranged John, but your spouse and most of your friends. The only mates you have left are those who are as addicted as you are. Your finances and career are suffering, yet, you still won't quit. Why?"

Harry's eyes filled with tears. Oh great, here comes Harry the victim!

Even though I'd seen it dozens of times before, her tears still goaded me into protecting her.

"Sherlock, that's enough," I said, then turned to Harry, "Harry, you brought that on yourself. What were you thinking? You need to learn tact."

"Oh, I need to learn tact? But your precious boyfriend doesn't?"

The tears began to spill.

"Harry, don't do this, please."

"Fine," she snapped, "I see how it is. You have him now, so you don't need me anymore. Well, that's fine because I don't need you either."

Harry grabbed her purse and stormed out of the pub.

I groaned, reached for my wallet, and put down enough notes to cover the bill and followed her out, Sherlock close behind.

I was just in time to see Harry hop into a cab that sped away. I gave a deep sigh.

Sherlock was frowning. "That didn't make any sense."

I rubbed my face. "It was Harry trying to make us feel guilty for picking on her. Don't worry about it. I'm sorry she was so rude to you."

Sherlock shrugged, "How can I possibly complain? When she kidnaps me and begins having me followed everywhere I'll fuss, but until then I think I'm still the winner in this deal."

I chuckled weakly.

"Shall we go home?" asked Sherlock.

"Yeah, I guess."

We walked home in silence. I was caught between sadness and anger over my sister. It hurt to see her slowly killing herself, but everything I'd read about alcoholism told me that there was nothing I could do for her. She had to want to quit for herself.

After we were in the sitting room Sherlock came over and awkwardly put his arms around me and pulled me close.

"I'm sorry I upset your sister."

"You spoke nothing but the truth she needs to hear. Well, I'm assuming it was all true."

"Of course it was, I never guess."

I smiled into his suit jacket, "Yes you do."

Sherlock pulled away, "You smell like beer. I don't like that smell on you. It doesn't suit you."

"Sorry, I can't say that I'm overly fond of it myself," I said as I went into the kitchen to make tea.

After it was made, Sherlock started going through his mother's case files again while I checked my blog. I had a message on it from an old childhood school mate, asking me to get in touch with him at his email address. I sent him a quick line but didn't know quite what to say, as we hadn't spoken since school.

After that I felt pretty tired, so I decided it was time to shower and go to bed. It was early, but I was feeling emotionally drained from the dinner with Harry.

I wandered back into the sitting room in my pajamas after my shower and Sherlock immediately put down his computer and patted the couch next to him.

I sat down and he leaned down and drew a deep breath.

"That's better, "he said, "you smell like yourself again."

He tugged me down, until we were lying together on the couch, pressed close along the length of our bodies. There was no need for words, we just listened to each other breath and felt each other's heart beat. It didn't take long before I was asleep.

Sometime later Sherlock shook me gently, "John, let's go to bed. I want to get undressed."

I yawned and stretched, rubbing my body against his.

"Hmmm," he rumbled deeply, like the purr of a great cat.

I blinked up at him sleepily, he was smiling.

"Come on, John, bed."

I got up and sleepily made my way into the bedroom and crawled into the bed. Sherlock followed a few minutes later, assuming the same position that he had the previous night with his head on my chest. The last thing I remember is hearing his contented rumble again.

TBC...

A/N: Next chapter begins the new case. Thanks as always to Jarri Scythe for the beta work!