As I promised, I finally finished work and had the chance to sit down and work on this… I feel like Sherlock and John are a little bit out of character, but the story requires them to be so different, I feel guilty for deviating so much from their personalities…
But oh well, here it is…
On John feeling strangely comfortable
John woke up the next day to the sound of Sherlock playing his violin- though in all honesty what had woken him up had been one of his nightmares - a very soothing song, a classical maybe but John had no way of knowing, he had never been one for that kind of music.
He stayed in bed even after the last note had resounded on the old wallpaper covered walls of his room, trying to calm down his breathing while allowing the sweat to dry off from his skin; something like 15 minutes later there was absolute silence down in the flat and John wondered if it had been part of his dream - and why would he be dreaming of Sherlock playing his violin? - and decided to make his way down stairs, after all he needed to use the loo anyways.
What he found when he reached the living room was not what he expected…
"What are you doing?"- John asked not moving from his spot by the door frame, there was a slight irritation on his voice, but also another edge on it he didn't quite know how to name it.
Sherlock had his laptop opened and was going through what looked like an email account - he hopped not his - if he went by the glow of the screen.
"Email obviously"- the other male answered as he clicked on something and started typing what John assumed to be a response.
"That's password protected"- John stated finally making his way towards Sherlock.
"Quite obvious John, you should probably think of another one"- Sherlock answered and gave no sign of feeling in the least bit remorseful about his action, while still typing away.
A brief though passed John's mind - trust issues, said his therapist - and he was standing right besides Sherlock; sure the younger man got like 5 centimeters - more like 8, but nobody was any wiser anyways - on him, but this was a man that had seen war and had no qualms in shooting a gun if he felt like it.
Sherlock didn't stop typing but acknowledged the other's presence with a sideway glance.
And all of the sudden the laptop was shut closed - Sherlock had almost had his fingers crushed - and taken away with a huff.
If John was honest with himself, he wasn't in the least bothered by it, is not like he kept anything too personal in there; he was actually quite surprised by the feature… only he would do that, be amazed by git who was invading his privacy, talk about stockholm syndrome…
"Your retelling of the case we helped Scotland Yard with was something"- Sherlock stated with a neutral expression but John could tell he had brought it up to rail him up.
"You liked it?"- John asked deciding to follow the banter, just to amuse himself.
"Nop"- the young psychiatrist answered while keeping a smug smirk on his lips: - "I cannot see the war journalist in you. All the description of the case was rather romanticized to be honest"- he added and turned towards one of the windows overlooking onto Baker Street.
John just sighed not feeling like continuing the banter anymore, he was hungry and that made him cranky; when he opened the fridge he was greeted by the sight of absolutely nothing.
"We need milk"- Sherlock said from the other side of the flat and when John turned to him he saw him now standing near the window, his violin in hand: - "Take my card"- he added and turned away to start playing.
John wondered a couple of things in the next couple of seconds: was he ever gonna not feel amazed at how Sherlock always made abnormal comments sound so surprisingly common? How did Sherlock know he was about to tell him he didn't have any money for groceries? And why was he being assigned the domestic task of getting them sustenance?
All these question shuffled through his brain rather quickly, but since he knew he had no answer he grabbed for Sherlock's wallet, already having accustomed himself to the familiarity of it, pulled the card out, took his laptop and made his way to his room without even bothering to ask Sherlock if he needed anything else.
After having changed - Sherlock was still playing his violin when he left - John made his way to the nearby Tesco and found himself buying more than he would have if it had been his own money, but then again he was buying for two, wasn't he?
When he arrived he wasn't surprised to find Sherlock still in the living room, typing away in the laptop - his own laptop this time, John checked - and received no greeting upon entering, but yet again no surprise there either.
"We need to go to the bank"- Sherlock called from his place by the window and John didn't bother to answer because he knew Sherlock already knew he would follow anyways.
"When you said we needed to go to the bank I didn't imagine you meant the actual bank"- John said as they walked through the crystal door leading to the corporative building of HSBC, Sherlock walking as if he owned the place and making his way immediately to the reception desk.
"Listen Sherlock, let's not use the word 'partner' ok? It gives people the wrong idea"- John said while they waited.
"What do you mean?"- asked Sherlock, his eyes going over every single detail in the place, he always did that and it made John feel like he was not being paid attention to.
He was about to explain to Sherlock the misunderstanding the word had created with the last client, which had made her believe they were other kind of partners - which they most certainly were not - but was promptly interrupted by the receptionist leading them to the elevators.
They were taken to the 42nd floor, where they were greeted by a beautiful secretary - John took notice of how curvy the woman looked on that very tightly fitted white skirt - and then shown into the office of - if John was to believe the sign at the entrance - Sebastian Wilkes, director of the trading floor.
"Sherlock Holmes"- called a man entering the room, obviously the owner of this office.
"Sebastian"- was Sherlock's acknowledgement of the other man's presence as the other man cladded in what John could tell was a very expensive suit, extended his hand as a greeting.
"How long has it been since we last saw each other? Like 8 years ago maybe in…"- The man started rambling but was swiftly interrupted by Sherlock.
"This is John Watson, my… friend" "colleague" - Sherlock started and then John interrupted at the same moment, fearing the other might call him partner again, but upon realizing the term he cringed at the awkwardness of the moment and his interruption.
"Well have a seat then. You need anything? Water? Coffee?" - Sebastian offered and John didn't miss the smirk the executive had in his lips, a very self sufficient smirk, but not like the one he had grown accustomed to see on Sherlock.
"I see you are doing well. Travelling a lot"- Sherlock commented conversationally and John felt a little bit of discomfort in the tone.
"Well, some"- answered Sebastian with that smirk still plastered on his lips, John was feeling rather ambivalent about the blocke.
"Twice around the world in a month, I would say rather impressive"- Sherlock added with a blank expression but John couldn't help the lopsided smile at the observation, he knew his flatmate was right, but he would like to know how he knew.
"Ah you are doing that thing that you do. He does this trick in which he can read you like a book, he would just…"- Sebastian started saying but John cut him off mid tirade.
"Yeah I know, I've seen him do it"- he said shifting uncomfortably in the chair, these kind of places were not his cup of tea, too restricting, boring, dull…
Sebastian just looked at John with something that felt too much like a glare but didn't quite cut it, maybe he was trying to be diplomatic, but failing at it.
"Go on then Sherlock, enlighten me. How did you know? A stain on my tie that's particular to a place, or mud on my shoes from some other place?"- Sebastian asked and you didn't need to be a genius to understand that he was mockingly undermining Sherlock.
Why were they here anyways? John wondered.
"No, I was just talking to you secretary outside"- Sherlock said in a neutral tone and John had to stop himself from laughing since he knew perfectly well that was a lie and Sherlock had indeed deduced all of that information by observation.
Sebastian laughed a polite laughter while Sherlock smiled one of his forced smiles and John could not feel more amused at the situation.
"Glad you could make it. I have a situation in the office and I'm sure you can help me"- the man stated and John noticed Sherlock going in deduction mode: - "There's been a break in" - Sebastian said and made to stand up from his chair, but John's question stopped him.
"Why Sherlock and not the police then?"- asked the journalist and he noticed the slight tension on the other man's face.
"Let me show you"- he said and finally made to stand up, waiting for them to follow suit, but Sherlock took a little bit more of time to stand up that John thought was needed; he didn't think the other was necessarily stalling, but maybe he was reading something from the interaction and he just needed to keep it going.
When Sherlock finally started following, Sebastian started explaining again.
"The ex president of the bank used to have his office here, nobody uses it anymore, but we've left it there like a sort of memorial"- he said as he made his way through a sea of cubicles, and John could never imagine a more restricting place; he wasn't sure why he was making mental notes of things and people that looked suspicious or out of place here, it's not like they were doing detective work here... Or were they?
"Someone broke in here last night"- Sebastian almost whispered when they had reached the entrance to what looked like a very large office space, door locked and only opened with a card swipe.
When they walked in they were greeted to a very minimalist, but obviously very expensive office, a large but stylish desk and chair and a very large portrait of who John assumes to be the previous owner. However there was something rather not good with portrait…
"Vandalized… we could say"- Sebastian states matter of factly and John feels like that's the understatement of the century.
The portray had a bright yellow line painted covering the place where the eyes would be, but that was not the most surprising thing about it at all, what caught his attention was the huge heart - a pig's heart, actually, as Sherlock later explained - pinned to painting with a large butcher knife.
"Nothing was stolen, they just left this little message"- Sebastian said and John didn't fail to notice that smirk again as the man turned to Sherlock, as if they were sharing a joke, except the joke seemed to be lost to Sherlock.
"Surveillance footage"- Sherlock said and even if it sounded too much like a question it really wasn't.
"This is where it gets tricky, There's a gap in the tape. One minute, someone came in, did this and left. Not through that door though, as you saw it needs a special card"- Sebastian said and kept his eyes trained on Sherlock, who seemed to be absolutely lost in thought at this point.
"The window then"- Sherlock stated and made his way to the small terrace to find himself looking down 42 floors above into the busy streets of London.
"I think this has to do with a little bit of office romance that we had been trying to keep at bay, but it seems it hasn't been successful"- Sebastian said and the tone in which he said it made Sherlock stop his observations and turn his attention fully onto the man speaking to him right now. He didn't feel the need to urge Sebastian to elaborate,he was certain his raised eyebrow was enough of an incentive.
Somehow the silent exchange between the two younger men made John feel a little left out.
"Everybody knows that in this line of work you can hardly find a true companion, someone you can trust… sometimes you have to branch out of your regular field, if you know what I mean"- Sebastian said and yes John immediately understood what he meant, but as soon as he turned to Sherlock he realized he didn't.
"Yes we do. I'm assuming then you came to us to avoid the press digging in too deep into these kind of affairs then?"- John asked even though he was sure it was a rhetorical question, but was pleased to see Sebastian nod minisculely at the question; Sherlock seemed very much lost at the moment.
"This means a bridge in our security though since we have no idea who did it. I have a five figure cheque right here, tell me how this person got in and there's five more figures"- Sebastian said pulling out a piece of paper, very obviously a cheque and a smug look on his face.
"I don't need incentives"- said Sherlock and marched back into the cubicles area.
"He was just kidding, here let me look after than for him"- John said as he took Sebastian's cheque from his hand and could not help the surprised expression on his face when he saw the sum written on the piece of paper.
Walking back out, John was surprised to find Sherlock perusing around the office place, with complete disregard of the stares he was getting at himself; he wasn't sure if Sherlock understood it was not ok to poke into a cubicle, a personal work space, and intently stare at the person inside it to then immediately walk back out without an explanation, but then again this was the man that had complete disregard for a survivant of a war kidnapping with trust issues.
"Sherlock"- John felt the need to interfere however, when he saw his flatmate taking pictures of two blokes that were chatting up somewhere near the copy machine, he noticed how uncomfortable the situation was making them and felt he could relate a little: - "Excuse my friend, he has Asperger's"- John said and pulled Sherlock away.
"Asperger's? Really? Out of all the very interesting syndromes and diagnosis you chose that one?"- Sherlock whispered resentful as he allowed John to pull him to the elevator.
"They were getting mad Sherlock"- John stated directing his eyes at Sherlock, who was now leaning against the elevator wall as they made their way down into the lobby of the building.
"That was the whole point John, it's easier to get information out of angry people"- Sherlock stated and seems to be pouting but gets himself together when the door to the elevator opens up once again at floor 37 and a beautiful petite and feminine lady walks in.
"Morning"- she says as a greeting and both Sherlock and John nod as a response; Sherlock cannot help himself from grinning as he turn to John who is looking at him puzzled, mainly because he doesn't quite understand Sherlock's smug smile.
"Sorry, but I have to ask. Are you by any chance Sherlock Holmes, dating consultant?"- she has such a sweet and tender voice, it feels like if she spoke any higher she would break.
"Yes I am"- and answers and produces a business card from one of his pockets: - "You can contact me here if you ever require my services"- he states with a smile John has come to fear, because he knows is his business smile, kind of like the smile he imagines the devil would show you just before you sold your soul to him.
"Ah thank you"- she says and with a perfect smile she gets off on the 12th floor.
John looks at Sherlock curiously.
"Don't look at me like that. It would be like killing two birds with one stone, besides you liked her didn't you?"- the younger of the two stated and stepped out of the elevator not even waiting for John answer.
"Well, she is pretty"- John said after catching up to Sherlock.
"Perfect! Then is settled then, you will ask her out when when comes over later tonight requesting my dating consultation, right colleague"- Sherlock spat and if John didn't know any better he would say Sherlock was plotting something evil.
