Chapter 12

Little Soldier Mine

As promised, Sherlock took John to the highly acclaimed doll shop just three blocks down via pocket travel. John had a hard time restraining himself from peeking outside of Sherlock's pocket, he didn't like being cooped up inside for so long.

"If you don't wish to be seen then you should stay in there."

"It's too hot" came the tiny whisper.

"Shh, we're here." Sherlock stepped inside the shabby shop.

Although relatively small to other shops in the area the store was filled with dolls of every kind and size, most of which were significantly larger then John.

"Hello?" Sherlock got no response. "Hmm, the clerk isn't around and likely hasn't been for several minutes now." He reached in his pocket to pull out John.

"Ah! What are you doing! What if someone sees me?!" He scrambled to his feet once Sherlock placed him on a shelf at his face level with miniature clothes.

"Oh John, you worry so much! There's no one here right now and if anyone comes in I'm sure you can pretend to be a doll."

John crossed his arms and pouted, "I am NOT a doll!"

Sherlock leaned close and smiled fondly. "Of course not. You're my little soldier man."

John could feel his face heating up but he refused to look away, "Very funny." He tried to use the most sarcastic tone he could muster.

Sherlock shot him a wistful look before turning towards the register, "Pick out whatever you want." Referring to the clothes.

Next to the register was a plain small parcel with Sherlock's name on it, after inspecting the contents that he ordered when he had first come to the store two days ago he put it in his interior pocket. Contemplating the other item in his pocket that he had brought with him he looked back at John who had changed into a striped shirt yet no longer seemed enthused about the new wardrobe selections.

"John I-"

"Sherlock wait. Just tell me. Am I stuck like this? Indefinitely I mean." Sherlock stepped closer to him noticing the wetness of his eyes. "I'm sorry, I know I keep asking and so does everyone else but- well, it does change a lot."

"It doesn't have to change that much. I can still take you places, work together and-"

"That's not what I mean! I'm sorry… but it's not. I know you're trying very hard, and I do appreciate that. Taking me out is probably the only thing saving my sanity at the moment. But this is all that my life will ever be if I am stuck. I can't work, or even see people. I'll just be hidden in your pocket from the world."

"I'm very selfish John."

"It's ok. I know you didn't mean for this to happen."

"No- I mean…" he stopped mid thought and looked away.

"What is it? You can tell me you know."

Sherlock breathed out nervously. "I like having you all to myself John." He still didn't make eye contact. "Always knowing where you are… you depending on me for so much. I know that's selfish. Wrong. But I also want you back. I'm afraid that might be for selfish reasons too."

After a pregnant pause John pushed, "Go on." His voice was light and sounded strangely understanding of the self proclaimed sociopath.

"I want you to make me tea." Sherlock's tone was flat.

"That's… that's why you want me back to normal? So I can make you tea?" John's brow furrowed not sure if he should believe what he just heard.

"Yes. And clean the flat up after me. Get mad at me for sitting to close while in a cab. Run after me when I'm chasing a criminal down, place a blanket on me when I've fallen asleep, force a plate of food in front of me, wear disguises and go undercover, fall asleep on my shoulder during stake outs-"

"Oh." John finally understood.

"There's more, but again, selfish reasons."

"No… no, those aren't selfish Sherlock."

"Hmm? But those are all things that only fulfill my wants. I don't care that you can't work at the hospital or go on dates. I don't even feel guilty about it. Well, I've never felt guilty about anything, but if I had I think I still wouldn't now. John? Why are you smiling? Are you not listening to what I'm saying? Shouldn't you be mad at me?"

"Sentiment." John stated matter-of-factly.

"Sentiment?"

John nodded.

"You forgive me because of sentiment?"

John nodded again, "That's also why you want me back. Sentiment."

Sherlock gave a confused look. "That's selfishness, not sentiment."

"Wrong."

"Then why don't I also feel guilty?" he thought he won his point with this.

"Also sentiment."

Sherlock grumbled, "That doesn't even make sense!"

"Does to me. You just don't realize it."

Sherlock was flustered. "I don't understand." He felt like pouting.

John licked his lips. "Come closer."

Sherlock's face was right next to John, slightly lowered so his eyes would be paralleled with the small man.

"I shouldn't have doubted you. Of course you'll figure something out." He whispered before closing the gap between him and Sherlock's nose, pressing his lips against it in gentle kiss.

Sherlock's eyes widened as his pupils dilated, "John I- what- I don't understand."

"I don't really understand either, but it's ok. I think I- well, it doesn't matter for now." He looked down at his feet, knowing sometimes size does matter.

Starting to catch on to what was happening Sherlock rushed his words out, "But John, it does matter! It matters very much, please."

John looked back up at the swamp grey green eyes that were locked on him. "I think I might, well, you see-"

"John, I do believe I love you."

John was suddenly at ease and shook his head. "Sherlock. I'm such a fool, why didn't I see it sooner?"

Sherlock bit his lip.

"I love you too." He was almost knocked over by the enormous cupid's bow lips that softly landed on the top of his head with a kiss.


Sherlock inspected the newest crime scene with renewed vigor. A middle aged woman lay dead across her living room floor. She was both short and blond like all the other with the exception of the second victim at the night club.

"The second body…" Sherlock mumbled to himself.

Greg looked up at him, "The second one that died?"

"No- the club, that's the only case of a double homicide. The second victim is the only one that doesn't fit the pattern. Why?"

"I thought that one was an accident-

"Don't be daft. That one was personal. But not the actual target. That's what this is all about. Why they all look similar, why they're all lesbians. Lestrade don't you see? The dark haired one- she must have somehow personally known the woman this is all about, that's why she was killed."

"Well, we should look to see if she had any friends that looked like the victim then."

Sherlock froze. "I know who the main target is."

Donovan and Anderson had been standing close enough by to hear Sherlock talking to Lestrade but hadn't become involved in the conversation yet since that would mean putting up with Sherlock's rude remarks about them.

"Well come out with it freak, who is it?"

"Lestrade, if I could have a moment." Sherlock grabbed the D.I.'s arm and stomped quickly away from the scene where it was more private, causing Donovan to shrug in annoyance.

"So, who is it then? She'll need to be brought in for questioning and police protection if you're right."

Sherlock brought a finger up to his mouth to make the 'shushing' silence gesture, then pointed to his breast pocket.

"Hmm? Oh-" Lestrade tried to cut himself off quickly.

John had been kipping in the warm pocket of his friend? Boyfriend? Man he had just kissed and confessed his love for? He would have to work that out later. Soon later. But the moment he was trying to figure out why everything was so uncharacteristically quiet. If Sherlock had been alone he would have taken John out or at least talked to him. So that meant people were around but no one was talking. Odd.

Seeing no better way to communicate his message without alerting his pocket guest, Sherlock pulled out his cell phone.

John's sister Harry. She knew the dark haired girl, she's short, blond, and is a lesbian. -Sh

I think you could be right. We have to bring her in and I'm sorry, but you have to tell John.- GL

Sherlock looked away awkwardly before giving the D.I. a confirming nod.


"I don't understand, why would someone be after Harry?! And besides, she's not exactly hard to track down, anyone could just grab her off the street the way she goes about drunk at night." John paced Lestrade's desk frantically with the blinds closed on all the windows.

"They aren't actually after Harry, John, they want to scare her."

"But why? She doesn't have any money. There are far more affective ways to get her attention and other then her friend dying I'm pretty sure she doesn't know about the other girls."

Sherlock put his hands up in his classic thinking pose. "You're right John."

"And another thing- what? Did you just say-?"

"Yes, now don't push it. If they weren't trying to scare her then maybe they are trying to scare someone that knows her and would be affected by her potential death or that someone is threatening to kill her."

"Well she and Clara never got back together and I don't think she has too many close friends."

"It would have to be someone who would be aware of these other victims popping up, someone who would immediately see the connection and become concerned."

John stopped his pacing and shot Sherlock an annoyed grimace. "That would be me Lock."

"Oh."

"Fuck. Are you saying someone is trying to threaten me with Harry's life?"

"It would seem so."

"I don't even have enemies! You do! Who the hell would be targeting me when they would have to deal with you?"

"Hmm. Who indeed,"

"Damn it Greg! Yes! I'm small! I get it! You don't have to put you damn face so close to me all the bloody time!"

Lestrade who had been quietly observing John straightened up and flushed faintly. "Sorry mate."

Much to the D.I.'s surprise he caught Sherlock cracking a smile. "You get so flustered John."

"Well I don't enjoy being inspected so closely."

"You didn't seem to mind me doing it."

"Well- That's different." His tone was significantly less hostile now.

"Is that so?" his palm was flat for John to climb up on.

"Quite."

Sherlock felt every movement of the fragile yet still strong John in his hand as he caressed his thumb. "Lestrade, we're going to go inspect Harry's flat just to make sure no one was keeping tabs on her." Greg nodded in agreement of the plan. He refocused his gaze on the man in his palm "Mhm, the things I would do to right now if you were big enough little soldier mine."

John was sure not only his face but his whole body had gone red the second Sherlock said that before being put back into the pocket. Lestrade debated whether he had heard wrong, Sherlock was being stranger then normal, or if he really had just caught something eye popping.

"Uh- right- uh- get back to me on if you find anything in the flat then." He had awkwardly turned away to pretend he was looking for something important in a filing cabinet.

"Of course inspector."