Disclaimer: - my goal in life: destroy that f-
Hullo there! Here we go with another tiny, little chap. I hope you'll all have an enjoyable evening and stay as awesome as you are. Because damn, you are amazing. ;)
Please R&R to the extents that may pleasure you.
Sherlock stretched out on his sofa, dreading the following days. They would be finished with filming soon, a day or two may suffice and then they would be done. Done.
And afterwards another era would break, the era of a world-tour on Sherlock's side. A fact he took only with dismay and disapproval, as there was absolutely nothing he was looking forward to. Not even John was by his side.
The only things he would have to think about now were the interviews, how to make the impression that everything was utterly fine. They would ask about John, of course. He would have to play along, 'it was just a silly kiss', he would say. Nothing more.
And then he would turn away, because it would hurt too much. It would hurt too much to show a smiling face. Too much to flirt with the camera.
How he hated this life; all the traffic about his person. The blind worshippers, who had never seen his true self, just an image. As if anyone had ever done that except from John.
John. John. John. What would he do without him?
Just stay alive. Carry on. Breathe.
Where was he?
Oh, shit, right. In a park, just like the homeless. Not that he would complain though; at least he had found somewhere to sleep on.
People gave John sympathetic looks while crossing his bench, wondering whether or not they should drop a penny at him. Bravo John. Did he really look that bad?
John stood up carrying his luggage with him, searching for the lake or anything that could work as a mirror. A tea-spoon would do alright.
Oh my god, who was that man? Oh, oh. That was him? Lord, how awful can a person look?
John shook his head, cupping his hands so that he could splash some water on his face. Exactly what he needed right now.
To be able to see things clearer.
Life was pretty messed up right now, he had been thrown out by Sarah, denied access to his son, but the worst thing was that he had grown a scruffy three-day beard. And it didn't fit his face at all.
Although one thing toppled the beard, he wouldn't be able to see Sherlock at all anymore. No bit of that perfect beast of a man. Nothing.
The connection was just cut. No way back. He was just another contact crossed off Sherlock's list. Sherlock could surely survive without him.
John sighed; this was not the way to do it. He would just catch a depression.
So, where to go to next?
Greg spotted the curly haired actor from afar, a wide grin spreading over his face. Sherlock had done his homework; John was a right looker. They would be happy together for sure. They just fit.
Everyone knew they did.
"Oh hello, Sherlock." Greg laughed, trying to spot any sort of difference or emotion in the other one's face. "How are things going?"
"Things?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I do not know what you could be referring to."
"You know I know that you know, don't you?"
Sherlock blinked perplexedly, but then nodded curtly. "May be."
"Well, how-."
"Do not even start on this topic." Sherlock sighed.
"But, it's phenomenal, it's-."
"No, it's not. I would be much more comfortable-"
"But you have to tell me details-"
"-IF YOU WERE TO SHUT UP RIGHT NOW!" Sherlock's fists clawed into his arms. "Thank you."
"But-."
"No, nothing about that." Sherlock looked intently into Greg's eyes. "Don't you understand?"
"What?"
"You will do soon." Sherlock painted a faked smile on his face. "We can start filming now."
"But-"
"I said SHUT UP!" Sherlock growled furiously.
The whole room gaped at Sherlock, shocked at the sudden outbreak of emotions. Especially from a man they had always thought to be a machine.
"- it's Sherlock Holmes, everybody! Give him a shout!" The whole audience cheered, smiling at Mr. Pleasant. Or rather not so very pleasant.
Sherlock smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and sat down.
"Want a drink?"
"No thanks." Sherlock said, grinning. "Have had enough for a lifetime."
The crowd laughed; a ringing sound in Sherlock's ears. "Yes, yes, the celebrities of today do sorrow us."
The interviewer paused for a while.
"So, Sherlock. Shall we begin?"
Sherlock smiled at the quote. "With pleasure."
"Now, let's talk about-well, 5 days ago, wasn't it?" He said grinning, searching for signs of approval in the crowd.
"What are you talking about?" Sherlock replied lowly, not searching for eye-contact but staring down at the floor.
"You know, you and that blonde one. John Watson, wasn't that his name? He's all over the news now; the man who could finally break the ice."
Something stung in Sherlock's chest. "That may be true." Sherlock looked the interviewer in the eyes, with painful 'happy' wrinkles around his.
"Please, do tell more." He leaned back in his chair, feeling just like the boss he actually was.
"Ah- yeah. It was nothing, it- I-." Sherlock stumbled for words. "It was just one silly kiss, I wasn't fully aware of it-"
"You looked like you did." The interviewer gave Sherlock a warning 'don't-spoil-it' glance, which was soon replaced by a representative smile.
"Well, I- you see- we didn't really-." Sherlock went Smaug-red.
"Didn't you?" The interviewer laughed.
