Sherlock practically pounced at the door when he heard John's footprints. He forced himself to remain still out of pure pride at not wanting John to know he cared (which he didn't!) The doctor showed that he'd had a good nights sleep. The detective didn't know whether to be happy or annoyed. If he'd had a good nights sleep then that meant he'd been able to get to sleep. John didn't have difficultly sleeping in danger, he wouldn't have survived this long if he had, but he woke from even the quietest of noises. He also would not sleep if he knew that Jim was awake meaning that he would have had to know that the psycho was asleep. Conclusion: they'd shared a bed. Sherlock's eyes narrowed, an unfamiliar fury bubbling up inside of him, but he masked his annoyance as soon as the door opened.
'Come on John.' He said, jumping up, grabbing the doctor and bundling him out of the room again. 'We've got a case to solve.' The soldier glared and stood his ground.
'No. You've got a case to solve. I've got to get ready for work.' Then he slipped past the detective and went to his room. Sherlock smiled, perfect.
Now that he was sure John wasn't going to disturb him, Sherlock took his mobile out and sent a quick text. He received a reply almost immediately and he took off down the street, following the riddled directions.
John stepped into the clinic with a sense of foreboding. He shivered once and continued to the reception.
'You look well rested.' Sarah said with a suggestive smile. The soldier smiled tersely.
'Yes. So do you.' He replied, noticing that the receptionist was also staring at him but trying, and ultimately failing, to hide it. He gritted his teeth in annoyance and walked past the women. He had been in the clinic all of three minutes and he was already the centre of attention. Then again, most of them had thought he was gay for a long time now. Ever since his flatmate had 'for a case' walked up to him and French kissed him outside the practise so that a man he was tailing wouldn't notice him. How this man came to be outside his clinic, John never found out. He had spent the next week explaining that his flatmate was being a git and he wasn't gay. The amount that believed him was minuscule but the subject wasn't brought up again. The soldier heard the whispers outside his room and he could make out his name quite a few times. Something snapped and he looked down to find the pencil he had been holding had been broken in half. He placed the jagged pieces on the table and buzzed in his first patient, determined to not let the other doctors get the better of him.
Meanwhile, in another part of London, Sherlock Holmes sat in a rather comfy chair across from the worlds only consulting detective. They were currently staring each other down. Jim chuckled and leant back on the furtinture.
'So, what's the problem, Shirley?' He asked. The detective gritted his teeth at the nickname.
'John.' He replied bluntly. He didn't think it was possible for th psycho's smile to grow anymore but the madman somehow managed it.
'Ah, Johnny. He's quite a lot of fun, I see why you like him. Not very good at chess though.' Jim's conversational tone was frankly disturbing. Sherlock's hands were now firmly clenching the arms of his chair to the point where is knuckles were completely white.
'John is mine.' He growled in an almost animalistic way. Moriarty laughed,
'My, my, Shirley dear, could it be that you've become possessive? What a very… psychopathic thing to do.' The Irishman cooed.
'I'm not a psychopath, I'm a sociopath.' Sherlock snapped back, quick to defend his mental defect.
'So what do you want?' Jim asked. That stumped the lanky detective, he hadn't actually thought he'd get this far without a fight and perhaps gunfire.
'I don't want you sleeping with John.' He replied coldly. 'I don't want John sleeping in your bed. I don't want john sleeping anywhere near you. Ever.' The criminal raised an eyebrow. The room fell into silence again. Sherlock's eyes were boring into the black pits that were Moriarty's eyes and the abyss he found there seemed to threaten to envelope him. The criminal had no soul to stare into, just the bottomless pit of emptiness.
'So you, with nothing to offer me, want me to stopping sleeping with your flatmate. Even if he allowed me to do so.' Jim stated. Sherlock nodded. 'If I do this then we'll keep it as you owing me one. In fact, you'll owe me a lot more than one. I hope you know that I could pull you up on this at any time.' The Irish voice said slyly. The detective new that by agreeing to this he would make his life hell but it didn't matter, he didn't want his doctor being anywhere near the sly git especially when he was asleep.
'Fine.' He spat. Jim blinked.
'Well, I hadn't expected you to actually say yes.' He said in a slightly shocked manner before smiling again. 'Good doing business with you, Shirley.' He winked and looked at his watch.
'I think you best go now. John will be finishing soon.' Sherlock was getting sick of everyone's suggestive tones. Especially where John was concerned. It wasn't right. He decided that he was going to pick John up from work today, damn the consequences.
John looked at the screen which showed his last patient for the day. They were just waiting for him to arrive then John could get it over with and get home. It had been a long, tedious day and the soldier wasn't quite sure that his patience was going to stand up to much more straining. He was thankful that he hadn't needed to go out of his room otherwise he may not have been able to stop himself from blowing his top at some unfortunate nurse who happened to ask him a stupid question at the wrong time. A little box flashed up on the screen telling him that his last patient had finally arrived. He buzzed him in straight away, eager to leave. The man was a long time sufferer of chest pains. He'd ran out of medication and the clinic had decided he should come in for another check up. Why, John couldn't understand, the man looked fine and was clearly quite actively fit but he decided it was probably better to be safe than sorry, as the saying goes.
Twenty minutes later, the soldier walked into the reception. Claire gave him a knowing smile and he could have slapped her. If one more person gave him a suggestive glance, he was going to punch them. Just then, who should fly in but the consulting detective. Sherlock ran and grabbed John.
'Thank God you're ok.' He said breathlessly before dragging his flatmate out of the clinic, leaving Claire to wonder what the hell had just happened. When they were outside, John slapped Sherlock's hand away.
'What the hell do you think you're doing?' The doctor hissed. The detective looked at him.
'I was getting you out of there before that psycho got you again.' He replied, voice twisting slightly. John looked at him.
'It's not Jim's day, why would he be here?' He asked but Sherlock wasn't going to give him any more information and instead grabbed him again, pushing him into the nearest cab.
'Sherlock, what the hell?' John snapped.
'Moriarty. He. I. Sorry John.' The detective said getting increasing flustered, a state that John had never seen him in before. The doctor knew his flatmate had done something but what?
'Sherlock.' He said slowly. 'What did you do?' The man in question took a steadying breath.
'I stopped Jim from sleeping with you in return for favours.' He said. John nodded, he couldn't really be upset about not having to be completely vulnerable while next to a psychopath.
'What favours?' The soldier asked.
'I don't know.' At this, John turned to look at his flatmate. Sherlock hated having to do favours for people. Silence filled the cab for the rest of the journey.
The two men stood outside the door to 221b Baker Street. John was bout to put the key in the lock when his flatmate pulled him back.
'It's open.' Sherlock whispered, pushing the door to prove his point.
'But it's never left open.' The doctor argued, even though it clearly was.
'I know. Moriarty's here.' The detective replied, still in a low voice. The soldier felt the chill and allowed him to enter first. As fun as his last trip to Satan's lair had been, he wasn't ready to see the evil mastermind again so soon.