Hello and apologies. I would like to say that the wait was all about how this extra chapter was kicking my ass. But alas, it wasn't. I watched "The Sandman" on Netflix and it has completely taken over my brain. So I had help typing up the chapter (I tend to self edit when go from longhand to screen) so that I could get it done and dusted. However it meant I didn't know how long it was. It ended up being almost 5000 words. And that was simply too long for one chapter. So it's been split up. The last chapter will be up tomorrow.
And then it'll be radio silence from me because this idiot is doing NaNoWriMo. Yup. You see I've been working on this fix-it AU epic of Sandman where in Hob Gadling and Morpheus get together and help each other work through their traumas. I have over 160 handwritten pages (front and back) of the story, so I figured it would be a good thing to try and NaNo.
Enjoy!
John dozed in his chair as Sherlock and Rosie read quietly on the sofa. Paddington Bear. It was her favorite so of course this was the fifth read through that morning. Sherlock didn't mind, he normally hated repetition but there was something amazing about how she would laugh each time.
The gentle peace that had settled over Baker Street was rudely broken by the shrill sound of John's text alert ringing in the still air.
Again it went off and finally a third time.
John rubbed his eyes and glared at his phone. He sighed heavily as he picked it up, fully expecting it to be some emergency on Harry's part.
He opened the app and blanched. It wasn't Harry, but it sure the hell constituted an emergency.
-Oi! Watson, you old tosser!
This is your 15 hr warning
Me and the lads are gonna be in London!
-20:00 at the Loopy Pheasant!
Don't be late
You know how the boys get when they're too long in their cups
-Alice says don't you dare come by yourself neither
She says she'll set you up with one of her friends
I've met them
Trust me, mate, you don't want that
"Well, sh–" John looked over at his daughter and finished lamely, "oot."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
John was silent for a moment as a million thoughts raced through his head. Bill Murray was in town. The one man in all of John's life who physically saved his life. Sherlock had saved it metaphorically many times. But there was something different about being fireman-carried through a desert on the back of someone bleeding out himself.
And he was going to be in town with all their old squadmates. Or as many of them that were on leave. Even Bill's wife, Alice, was army.
He slowly raised his head from the phone to look helplessly at Sherlock.
Sherlock leapt into action. He picked up Rosie and carried her into the kitchen where he strapped her into her high chair and pulled out some soft biscuits for her to chew. Once she was thoroughly distracted, Sherlock leaned against the door jam.
"What's up?" he asked, popping the P.
John squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them slowly. "Are we free tomorrow?
Sherlock cocked his head to the side and folded his arms over his chest. "That depends on whether we have a case by then or if we can get a childminder in time. Why?"
"The lads want to get together tomorrow night."
Sherlock frowned. "I thought we are already did the coming out to the Blackpool lads?"
Now that had been a nightmare. Over half of John's old rugby mates had been decidedly against John dating a man and had stormed out. They left behind a very awkward hole in the conversation. The remaining men had been supportive, but it was clear that with one sentence John had killed all future get-togethers with the whole team.
John tapped his phone against his palm and said succinctly, "Northumberland Fusiliers."
"Oh."
Oh indeed.
"And are you sure you want to introduce me to them?" Sherlock asked into the silence that had followed.
John furrowed his brow. "Why wouldn't I? You're my partner. Who else would I bring?"
Sherlock looked back at Rosie who was happily smearing her biscuits all over her face, and then stepped into the sitting room. "I worry after what happen with the rugby crowd, that maybe it might be better to...sit this one out, as it were. After all, they aren't in town often enough and you could still maintain the close relationships with them."
John's jaw slackened and his eyes went wide. He rose to his feet and strode the short distance to his love. "No, Sherlock. No. What happened with the Blackpool lads was unfortunate, and I don't regret falling out with the ones that minded you. They weren't worth knowing in the first place."
"But John–" Sherlock protested, but John lifted a hand to his lips.
"No, love. I was talking to Bodhi, do you remember him? The team captain?" Sherlock nodded. "He was telling me that they talked about what happened after we left, and they all agreed that the group was better off without the blokes that left. They were always saying racist or homophobic things, and while they were called out every time, they still persisted, claiming they were 'only joking.' But now that they've gone off, it's a relief not have to deal with all that bullshit anymore."
Sherlock let out a shuddering sigh. "Okay."
"Besides, I have no intention of being set up by Alice, Bill's wife. Her friends are Royal Marines." John winked.
Sherlock burst out laughing. "And I'm guessing she wouldn't believe you if you said that your partner was just home with your daughter?"
"Not according to Bill's texts, no." John showed Sherlock the messages.
"All right, I'll call around," Sherlock said, pulling out his phone. "See if we can't find a minder for tomorrow."
"And I'll order dinner," John murmured. "What are we thinking?"
"Chinese?" Sherlock suggested as he scrolled through his contacts. "Watson loves the chow mein noodles."
John laughed and dialed up their favorite Chinese restaurant, listing off their order from memory.
Mrs Hudson had agreed to take Rosie, even offering to let her spend the night so they didn't have to hurry home.
They offered gifts and favors as compensation, but she waved them off, saying that she was happy to do it.
Then around 3pm, Greg called.
"Chef Detective Inspector, to what do I owe the honor?" Sherlock teased.
"Oh, ha, Sherlock," Greg growled on the other end. "My higher ups are telling me to bring you in on this one."
Sherlock shared a slightly panicked look with John. "Be that as it may, I have plans for this evening."
Even John could hear the heavy sigh on Greg's end of the phone.
"They want you to look over the case and make sure I haven't made any 'errors' in the course of the investigation. It's not even a proper case, I just need an outside opinion to get them off my arse," Greg bit out.
"Ah."
John closed his eyes and then nodded, resigned.
"I'll be there as quickly as I can," Sherlock murmured and then hung up.
"Poor Greg," John said as Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf. "Ever since he came out to his superiors, they've been making more and more unreasonable demands."
"Like being gay suddenly makes you a poor detective," Sherlock agreed, rolling his eyes.
"Makes me wonder if they know about your proclivities," John said, chuckling.
Sherlock kissed him swiftly. "Probably not. They are idiots, after all."
John shook his head. "Don't be late."
Sherlock just waved his hand over his shoulder.
"And convince Greg to take the damn holiday!" John called after him.
The door slammed shut and John wasn't sure Sherlock had even heard him. He didn't have much time to dwell on it, because it was then that his daughter decided to make known her displeasure of being woken up.
John got her nappy changed and snack administered. He could hear her happily cooing in the kitchen while he straightened up the front room. It wouldn't do to trip over a stuffed rabbit or rattle, drunk or no, in the dark when they got home that night.
Soon Rosie was finished and he packed up all her things and brought her down to 221A.
Mrs Hudson answered so quickly that John figured that she must have been hovering by the door.
"Thanks, Mrs H," John murmured, giving her a peck on the cheek.
"No problem," she said, taking Rosie from her father. "Did I hear Sherlock go off earlier?"
John hummed. "Greg needed to him to look at something really quick. So he better be home on time."
"I'm sure it'll be fine," Mrs Hudson said, patting John on the cheek. "He's not like he used to be, he's very careful to avoid doing things that hurt you."
John sighed. He knew that. Of course he did. But it was an old habit to try to break and he hadn't quite succeeded.
He got his shower and shaved. He was pulling on his shoes when his phone rang. He sighed when Sherlock's name came up.
"You had better be pulling on to Baker Street now," John murmured.
"I left the Met with plenty of time," Sherlock explained. "But this traffic has crawled to a standstill. At this point I'm closer to the pub then I am to home."
"Fuck."
John ran his fingers through his hair. "All right, I'll meet you there. Don't be late, Sherlock. Please?"
Sherlock sighed on the other end of the line. "I'm trying not be, honest."
John closed his eyes. "I know."
They said their goodbyes and John hung up, filling the flat with curse words that these walls hadn't heard in years.
It couldn't be helped. He knew that. At least Sherlock had called. He grabbed his things and headed out the door, hailing a cab.
He was about ten minutes from the pub when John texted Sherlock
-If you're late, the next case Greg investigates will be your disappearance.
x JHW
-The greatest unsolved mystery of our time, as I wouldn't be able to solve my own disappearance.
x SH
-I'd have to find a way to make sure Mycroft never hears of it, then
x JHW
-You wound me, John
x SH
-Just be there on time and you won't have to worry about it
x JHW
-I'm almost there
x SH
John sighed and put his phone away, shaking his head. He loved Sherlock. Of course he did. But it was moments like these he questioned his sanity. He laughed and earned a questioning glancing from his cabbie.
He didn't have much sanity to begin with. And what is love but an acceptable form of crazy?
They got to the pub and John tipped the driver well. He looked around, but didn't see Sherlock. He hoped that his boyfriend had gone in, otherwise he was going to kill him.
He walked in and spotted Bill right off. But no Sherlock. John was about to turn around and wait for the man outside when Bill caught his eye and waved him over.
John sighed and made his way over to the table. It had enough room for eight and the other six seats were filled with some of the best men John had ever known. Besides Bill and Alice, there was Sgt. Cal Walker, a large black man who like Bill was a combat nurse. Sgt. Gwen Llewellyn, a beautiful leggy blond who was a hell of a combat medic. Captain Hassan Sodhi, who was a doctor like John. And the last person was John's final former commanding officer. Sholto's incident with the crows happened before John was discharged and their new officer was Maj. Amelia Hastings. She had dark hair and piercing brown eyes that smiled more than they frowned.
They had come without spouses or significant others, mainly because their spouses were army, too, and sometimes their leave didn't line up with their spouses'.
John had been the outlier. He hadn't been attached before he left and other than a brief year of marriage had stayed that way for most of the five years since his discharge.
When John got to the table there were hugs and handshakes all around.
"Major," John greeted. "It's good to see you again."
"It's just Amy tonight, John," she corrected. "Just a bunch of mates having a beer."
Alice grinned. "You've certainly got balls coming to the meet up without a date. I've got a couple of friends ready on speed dial." She waved her phone.
Everyone laughed.
"Oooh, you're in for it now, Johnny!" Cal crowed. "I've seen her friends and everyone single one of them could bench press twice my weight."
"Nothing wrong with dating a strong woman," Hassan said with a grin.
"Please," Gwen huffed. "Your wife is gorgeous."
Hassan blushed.
"I didn't show up alone," John said, taking off his jacket. "My partner is just stuck in traffic."
Bill pounded on John's good shoulder. "Yeah, right."
"You didn't come together?" Gwen asked.
"They're coming from work," John admitted. You better get here soon or I will murder you.
"So what's her name?" Hassan asked.
"I don't believe John gave any indication his partner was a woman," said a warm voice behind John.