9 Months.
'I'm at the library. I need something to read at home. Suggestions? JW'
'Red Badge of Courage. It's excellent, I think you'll love it. MM'
'Author? JW'
'Stephen Crane. MM'
John browsed the shelves, finally finding the novel in question. He took it down, reading the back.
'This is a war story. JW'
'Well, yes. MM'
'How did you know? JW'
'Know what? MM'
At first he grinned, thinking she was playing innocent, but then he remembered: Mary, so far, knew nothing about his life in the army. For all they'd talked, they hadn't talked too much about his past. His preferences, what he did with his leisure time, yes. But never his past. John wasn't letting those walls down quite yet.
Not only that, but he'd assumed she had deduced it just as Sherlock had. He missed hearing about all the little clues that led Sherlock to make a big conclusion from something seemingly insignificant… He missed Sherlock every day. It was getting better, it wasn't nearly so crushing all the time now, but he still had his days where he merely holed up in the flat, missing Sherlock.
'I was in the military. Came back from Afghanistan a little over two years ago. JW'
'Oh! No, I had no idea, you never told me. Haha A look into the life of John Watson! :) MM'
John's lips twitched into a small smile.
'Just a small one. JW'
'Right. MM'
He was fortunate that Mary understood the way she did. He rarely talked about himself with any depth. She never asked for more than what he gave. She was quite honestly one of the best people he'd ever met.
The past month or so, he'd tried slipping little hints that he was interested. A compliment, a smile that lingered too long, more eye contact. He wanted to try for a relationship, to feel close to someone, a little bit of normality. She hadn't seemed to catch on at all, though.
The next day, in their regular lunch-break chat, he decided to be more forward than he had before and just flat out ask her on a date. It couldn't hurt, right?
"Mary?" He asked, when there was a pause in conversation.
"Hmm?" She asked, turning a page in her book and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Would you… Care to go get dinner sometime?" There. The question was out. Now, to wait.
She looked up, looking a little startled, and for a moment John thought he'd crossed the line.
"You mean a date?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Yes." He nodded.
A flush crept into her cheeks as she smiled in her easy way, and hope rose in John. Maybe he could truly have a chance with her!
"John, I… I am flattered, but…" She paused, and he cursed inwardly. There was always that damned 'but…' with him…
"I'm not looking for a boyfriend." She said, simply.
"Already spoken for." He nodded.
"No." She said, "Just not looking for a boyfriend."
"So… just not interested?" Maybe he still had a chance, with time.
"No, John." She shook her head, the laughter dancing in her eyes. "I said I'm not looking for a boyfriend, not that I'm not looking."
Then it hit him. God, he was thick. You'd think, growing up with Harry, he'd be able to tell by now which team a girl played for, but he was still oblivious.
"Oh! Oh." He said, smacking himself in the forehead, "Mary, I am so sorry, I didn't mean-"
"Oh, it's fine!" She said, laughing a little. "Don't beat yourself up about it, John. I'm flattered you're interested, at least someone is." She put on a mock-pout.
John chuckled, vowing to talk to Harry about this later.
"But, I thought you were…" Mary started, then shook her head. "Doesn't matter." She said brightly, "Did you get Red Badge?"
"Yes," said John, choosing to ignore the fact that, yet again, he'd been thought of as a gay man.
"Enjoying it?" She asked, leaning forward.
"Haven't started." He said, "Got busy."
"Doing what?" She laughed, "I always pictured you went home and watched crap telly…"
He'd gone home and started playing Bach on his computer. He'd made two mugs of tea and had only drunk one. He had re-read his blog entries for the thousandth time and remembered how things were. He had missed Sherlock.
"Fell asleep," He said, simply, betraying nothing.