John

Though I'd made it clear the instant bond we had was not "that" sort, I couldn't stop thinking about Sherlock Holmes. I wasn't even shocked at his ways, not really. I wanted to see him again, I wanted him to say things about me no one knows, I wanted him to make me fear him only to realise that through it all he's just a man like me.

It sounds ridiculous and so romanticised but the thing that got me most was his gaze; it was so calm yet rushing around and it felt dangerous. And I sort of liked that.

It couldn't be good.

Only now I noticed I'd been sliding the plastic cup full of water on my desk around and around in a smooth, circular motion, almost hypnotised by the water sloshing against the sides and very nearly over the edge. Subconsciously I'd kept at a pace that forbid it from spilling. It was contained yet in its place where it could only barely touch the outside it was relentlessly wild in movement and nature.

Just like that gaze...

This definitely isn't good.

Of course after so many years lacking from rushes, the thing that sent me back came in a dangerous dose and in the form of a human – a human who I had no chance or reason to see again but still wanted to – and also had confessed his obviously one sided attraction to me.

Yeah this really isn't good. I need to stop. Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about him, stop-

My hand comes to a halt not with grinding but with a sudden stop and only minimal aftershock. The water ripples a little in the cup and then stays still.

The door swings open and after confirming that yes, I am quite alright, my next patient is sent in.

"How was college?" I ask, opening the fridge door and taking out a bottle of beer. I've never been that big on drinking but I felt like I needed it.

Antonia is sitting on the counter with her legs rhythmically tapping the cupboard beneath. "Yeah, it was good. Psychology was fun, teacher was in a better mood than usual."

"Is he not usually in a good mood then?"

"Meh. Depends. I think he hates us." She smiles.

"I know what you mean when you said he was weird now."

"Why, I mean I know he's odd but what exactly did he say to convince you?"

"Did all that fancy talking and stuff, quite impressive." I understate. "Oh and you won't believe what he did in the car park though!"

"What did he do?"

"He asked me out for a coffee!"

She snorts. "Are you joking?"

"No!"

"Oh my God! That's hilarious..." She cracks up and I laugh too, it's always nice to see her happy, and then she gets her phone out of her pocket.

"Don't go round texting all your friends that now..."

"But I have to, I can't believe he asked you out like oh my God what would he even-"

"-I don't think that's really fair on him."

"Okay, but seriously tell me about this. What did he do, just casually drop it, or did he do a romantic gesture, or... oh my God did he flirt with you? Did you flirt back!?"

"No I mean he just asked me if I wanted to get a coffee. It was really weird, I didn't lead him on or anything."

"Pfft. You always lead people on."

"That's a lie! I'm just friendly!"

"That one time you held the door open for that lady at the station? That one time you winked at the checkout girl? That one time you-"

"-the winking was an accident, and I...I just try to be a nice person."

"Yeah but people aren't nice unless they want to get laid usually."

"Antonia!"

"It's true! Like today, if you're nice and friendly to someone they assume you're into them because we're all so used to treating each other like scum, with the exception of friends and all of course."

"Is that Kyle boy nice to you then?"

"He's- shut up." Antonia blushes and jabs me in the stomach. "I didn't know Sherly was gay though."

"Sherly?"

"Nickname, he doesn't know about it yet. Still I mean it's kind of obvious now I think about it. Have you SEEN his shirts? You can basically hear the buttons screaming in agony."

"Ha, I didn't really notice."

"You'd make a cute couple. Should've said yes."

"Um, Antonia. Not gay."

"I'm sure you could turn. If you got together I'd never have to do any work in Psychology ever again."

"I'm not sure it works like that."

"Aww, please. Call him up and say you changed your mind!"

"No!"

"You'll get free coffee and I'll get an A*!"

"Like you need help with that anyway, you're doing fine and besides I like women."

"He could pass as a woman if he grew his hair, maybe..."

"Antonia..."

"...bit of lipstick... okay but seriously, I have a theory about gay guys."

"Go on..."

"They'd give really good handjobs."

"Antonia!"

"Nooooo, but like, they've been practising most of their lives! Come on Dad, free coffee and a really good handjob, go out with him!"

We laugh for a bit as I shake my head. "No."

"But-"

"-no. You have homework to do."

Sherlock

My footsteps by no means lack in haste but are carefully placed as I make my way to the cafe. The people walking past me, the tired eyed citizens of London commuting at this time (approximately seven AM) are also fast moving but because they have no choice. What agony it must be to run that way.

I had fifteen minutes to kill and the cafe which was conveniently placed seemed to spring up on the quarter of an hour from behind and inject it with a fatal poison. I wasn't really one for frequenting them but of course I'm making an exception. And afterwards, if it goes to plan I'll have an hour to get to college to teach my first plan.

Teaching. I mentally groan to myself at the thought.

Still, the current situation enlightens me a little and I step inside of the cafe feeling a little lighter. It's well lit, with the rarity of the English sunshine passing through the front windows. It's decorated with bookshelves and cat ornaments in a faded attempt to look quirky. Fellow customers are nothing special. Nothing compared is.

I take the seat nearest to the window. A waitress - young but not in school, shift would cross over with that, obviously not bright enough for a better job if she's left school at her age – comes to take my order. The other customers are as few as they are interesting, so it comes in a space of three minutes. I pay in exact change too.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

I sip my coffee as slowly as I can. I've already had some today so it's not really much to enjoy. Boredom begins to feast away at me and my hands twitch. The clock on the wall ticks. The cat ornaments look down on me with sickly sweet little smiles.

Wait, I tell myself. Just wait.

And then it comes. The cure to this, this rut I've been in the past few days where I knew what to do next but not how to do it at all, not whether it was right or wrong. Not knowing. I loathed it.

John looks left and right before crossing the road. His eyes don't shift; like a horse pulling a cart he just looks straight ahead as if he doesn't want any distractions. As if anyone who would recognise him wouldn't be worth talking to. Obviously he didn't see me, he wasn't looking.

He's now directly opposite me on the other side of the street and checking his phone outside the surgery. Doesn't look up. Slow texter.

Since I've already paid I could just do what I planned, go up to him and talk to him. I'm paralysed. I'm stunned. I can't move and I'm not sure if that's because I don't have the willpower to, or that I have too much and maybe in the long term it could be a good thing. Still, I sit and watch.

I watch those dark grey eyes dart in both directions before walking inside. I watch the movement of his spine as he turns his back to me, as he pushes the door open.

Partially I want to call it a morning wasted but it isn't, not really.

The next day I do the same, I observe him from the cafe. And the day after, and the next when I even plan out various scenarios in my head and none of which come to life. One day lessons finish early around the same time as his shift, so I follow him home. It's better than just sitting there I suppose.

I slowly walk behind him and make sure to dodge any suspicious glances. The next week I do the same, except stop outside the park because even I know that could look shifty, around kids and all.

It's been a month now and I know it would be the right thing, the better thing to just talk to him.

But I'm absolutely fascinated and perfectly comfortable with watching from a distance, no matter how much I fantasise about times I could pull myself together and start conversation.

How odd.

Bit of a filler because this was originally one big long chapter but I'm not happy with the second half. Kind of stuck in a rut of hating all of my work at the moment but the wait for the next part will be worth it, I promise, it's actually going to be alright I think. Feedback would be great to get my creative juices flowing again, you guys are so lovely! :3