"You really have been spending an awful lot of time with Sherlock lately," Mike observes.
He, Clara, and Sarah have gathered for a study party of sorts.
John just reaches around for one of the cookies Clara had baked for the occasion. "Am I?" The others all exchange a curious glance with each other. John freezes mid-bite and rolls his eyes. "My god, can't a bloke hang out with a mate once in a while?"
"You hardly come home at night," Mike points out.
"Sherlock doesn't sleep," John explains. "He's fucking nocturnal or something. I bet if I didn't give him company he'd get bored and relapse or something. He's been doing quite well off the drugs."
Clara looks at John questionably. "You know, rumor has it that Sherlock quit the drugs because of you."
"Does it matter why he stopped?" John scoffs, offended that his friends are actually teaming up against him like this.
"Well…I guess not…" Clara mumbles.
Sarah on the other hand, is a bit more blunt with her approach. She comes straight out and asks "are you two dating or something?"
John is suddenly pulled into an inner confliction. He thought he'd been doing a pretty good job of keep his relationship with Sherlock a secret. He knows Sherlock wouldn't mind being publicized-his name is already smeared with rumors, why not just throw another one on top-but John has a reputation. He'd already been getting stares for even befriending Sherlock, imagine how people would react if they ever found out they were an actual couple.
On the other hand, John is not a practiced liar. He's lived his entire life believing that it's a horrible thing to lie to people. Suppressing the truth, sure, but outright lying about a huge part of your life, especially to a friend or family member was something John could never do.
So John swallows hard and braces himself for whatever reactions his friends might have as he finally replies, "and if we are?"
Their reactions are immediate. Clara gasps. Mike lets out a whistle and sits back in his chair in shock. Sarah covers her mouth with her hands and stares at John with wide eyes.
Silence falls upon the four of them.
And then Sarah stands up abruptly and runs out of the room.
John watches her leave, quite confused.
Clara catches his puzzled gaze and frowns at him, looking quite sorry for him. "Oh, John…" she says somberly.
"You're an idiot," Mike informs John.
"Excuse me?" John asks, quite offended.
Mike points at the door that Sarah had run out of. "She's in love with you, you git!"
John's eyes widen as the realization sinks in. "Oh god," he gasps.
"Yeah," Mike nods, as if Sarah's infatuation should have been obvious.
"Oh god," John repeats, scrambling up to his feet. "Oh god oh god." He begins to chant as he runs out of the room and through the hallway, looking for any sign of Sarah.
He finds her at the bottom of the stairs, near the entrance to the dorm building, her back against the wall and her arms hugging her legs into her chest with her head on her knees. He can already hear her sobs echoing through the hall.
When he starts to walk down the stairs he knows Sarah can hear him, but she chooses to ignore it, continuing her cries.
John stands above her now. He hesitates, but crouches down so that he's on her level. It's easier to talk this way, after all. He opens his mouth to say something, closes it, and licks his lips nervously. He then manages to force out her name. "Sarah…?"
"Stop," she immediately replies without looking up.
John has half a mind to listen and shut his mouth, but Sarah is an extremely important friend and he doesn't care much to lose her. "No, I…" He sighs sympathetically. "I'm sorry."
This time Sarah does look up. The evidence of her crying is blatantly obvious, and she wears an almost angry expression on her face. She slowly shakes her head at John. "Why the hell are you apologizing?"
John is taken aback. Why was he apologizing? He really had nothing to apologize for. He stammers a bit. "I…um…I guess…" he struggles to find the right words. "Uh, sorry. For um, not noticing."
Sarah lets out a rude laugh. "You better be."
"What?" John looks confused.
"You're an idiot," Sarah insults him through a sob.
"Sarah I-."
But John is cut off. "Shut up." Sarah shakes her head again.
"I understand if you want to leave," John says, although he truly doesn't want her to.
"Don't," Sarah commands him. "Don't even. This is my problem. Not your. I…" She sniffles a bit. "I'm furious, quite honestly. You're too good for him. He doesn't deserve you. Then again you're too good for me too."
"Sarah, that's not true-." But again John is interrupted.
"Are you happy?" Sarah asks, completely sincere.
John blinks. "Uh…well…yeah." He repeats his answer again. "Yeah, I am."
And with that, Sarah manages to smile a little bit. "All right then. Come here you fucking idiot." She holds her arms out. John doesn't hesitate to hug her back in the slightest. He pulls her into his chest and her tears soak through his sweater but none of that really matters. Of course John feels bad, as he always does when he has to break a heart, but he feels assured that through it he didn't have to lose one of his best friends.
They hug for a rather long time. Sarah is actually the first to pull away. She laughs a bit and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "Ugh," she says to herself. "I must look so ugly right now."
"Extremely," John teases, planting a sympathetic kiss to her forehead.
Sarah sniffles one last time. "I...I won't tell anyone. About you and Sherlock, I mean. If you don't want. I'm not a bitch like that."
John gives a little chuckle. "Thanks."
John's girl problems just don't seem to disappear.
He and Sherlock walk briskly down the sidewalk together as Sherlock tries to work out an issue. DI Lestrade had sent a frustrating text a while ago stating that all the regular customers at the bar had alibis as well, and none of them contradicted each other.
"It doesn't make sense," Sherlock mumbles to himself. "How is it possible that they all have alibis?"
"How do you mean?" John asks.
"It's like all of them made sure that they were in an area where they could be witnessed. To make sure they had an alibi at the time of the murder. Almost like…like it was staged."
"Well," John muses. "Even if it was all staged, it doesn't help because it still means they couldn't possibly have killed Jennifer."
Sherlock shakes his head. "No no no. It's one of them. I'm sure of it. Someone is lying. Somebody. A customer or an employee. I can't tell yet. I need to speak with them myself. I'd be able to catch the liar in a matter of seconds."
Just then, Sherlock's phone drops out of his pocket. It only takes him a few steps to notice it, but by the time he's turned around to pick it up, it's already in the hands of someone else.
"Irene."
John looks at Sherlock, then at the woman holding the phone, back to Sherlock, and back to the woman. Dark brown hair twisted and pinned back neatly. A rather curvaceous body shown off by her tight fitting clothing choice. Her lips are bright red. Her fingers are long and slender around the phone, much like Sherlock's fingers are.
Irene Adler. More commonly known around campus as just 'The Woman." She's rumored to be an openly promiscuous bisexual who will sleep with anything that breathes-but they come to her, not the other way around. She's known to be quite intelligent and a master of blackmailing whoever is in her bed. The gossip queen of university. John had never seen her in person, but he had heard some pretty intimidating stories, and now that he's face to face with her, he's even more intimidated.
"Sherlock."
John turns back to Sherlock. "You two know each other?"
Sherlock's eyes are still locked on her as he answers John's question. "I helped her get away when she got involved with some rather bad people last year."
"Correction," Irene retorts immediately. "You scared away from rather valuable customers and I lost the chance to collect some rather valuable information."
"Blackmail material."
"Information," Irene emphasizes firmly.
"Give me my phone," Sherlock demands, holding out his arm.
Irene is quick to snap her arm away, however, pulling the phone into her chest. "No," she defies him playfully.
"What do you want?" Sherlock asks through gritted teeth, obviously annoyed.
Irene taps his phone thoughtfully against her chin. "I seem to be doing quite badly in my sociology class. It's not my favorite, you see, and I can't be bothered to do much work."
"I can't raise your marks," Sherlock tells her.
"No," she agrees. "No you can't. But your brother can."
Sherlock scoffs. "He will do no such thing."
"Really?" Irene raises an eyebrow. "Well then I wonder just how waterproof this phone is."
"Fine!" Sherlock suddenly gives in. "Fine. I'll somehow persuade my brother to get you what you want." His face twists at just the thought of having to converse with Mycroft. "Just give me my phone."
"Are you going to beg me?" Irene asks, amused.
"I wouldn't beg you if my life was in your hands," Sherlock snarls.
"Oooh," Irene grins. "Feisty. I like that in a man. I could have all sorts of fun with you. For instance, those cheekbones. Oh, I bet I could cut myself slapping those. Would you like me to try?" She holds out the phone almost regretfully, and then her eyes catch John, who is standing there with his hands in fists and his jaw tightly clenches, and she smirks. "But…I see you're spoken for. Pity. I wouldn't think of you to go for someone so…normal."
"Kindly go fuck yourself," Sherlock snaps at her.
"Perhaps I will." She gives the both of them another playful smirk before walking away, swinging her hips with perhaps a bit too much vigor.
Sherlock immediately starts walking in the opposite direction again.
John quickly catches up with him. "You didn't tell me you were in acquaintance with Irene Adler," he points out.
"We are far from acquaintances," is Sherlock's response. "Now let's go," he demands. "I have the impending urge to screw you into the sheets."
John shrugs. "I'm down with that."