Disclaimer: I own nothing.
John is absolutely done in. He hasn't gotten one wink of sleep before having to go to work. And if they had broken the code, he wouldn't mind. But he has left Sherlock still in the process of opening book after book after book. (He never stops, and he doesn't seem to slow down, too. How in the hell does he manage? Is the man a cyborg? Does he have batteries?)
The good doctor is on autopilot. Let's hope no one is affected by some subtle, dangerous illness because he's likely to miss it today. Maybe if he just rests his eyes thirty seconds before the next one, he'll be more alert then...
The next thing he's aware of is Sarah gently shaking him. He's fallen asleep at his bloody desk. If the earth could be so kind as to open and swallow him...He apologises hurriedly, and is trying to explain, but as Sarah – his boss – points out, there's going to be time for that later. He should really get to work. John blushes brightly and nods briskly.
Of course. Patients. Annoyed patients (and rightly so). The first one makes no mystery of what she thinks of him. Again, John apologises. He's going to apologise a lot of times, today. (And it's all Sherlock's fault for being so unreasonable. The books would still have been there today. Though, of course, they might have a new victim too – hopefully not. And he's getting distracted thinking about the case. He's the worst.)
Hours later, he discovers Sarah has taken over her good shares of his patients (now that was so nice of her; she's a good friend) and he apologises again, "I'm very sorry. That's not very professional." He manages not to blush in shame. That's never happened to him before – he's worked under pressure, and on little sleep, and been fine. Never on absolutely no sleep, though, and maybe the pressure actually helped keep him alert. Saving people's life and limbs gets you focused in a way diagnosing colds can't do.
Sarah can only agree with him. John is overcome by the urge to explain, "I had, um, a bit of a late one." Though that's not an excuse. Absolutely not. He's an adult. He should be able to shoulder his own responsibilities.
Once again, Sarah agrees vaguely, but when John tries to slip away, she asks for details. Well, he owes her an answer. She's his boss. She needs to know what's happened – to be sure it won't happen again. (It won't. John will be sensible and go to bed and not let siren Sherlock ensnare him anymore.) Unsure about what to say, he calls it ' a book event'. Well, there were books. Lots of them. "I was trying to break the code of a smuggler's ring which is murdering people," would look like absolute bull after all, though it's the truth.
Sarah assumes John was pleasing his girlfriend. John wishes he could answer, "No, it was my soulmate," more than anything in the world, but this Sherlock is not his Sherlock. And the woman has been sending him signals he should be blind and deaf not to notice, and he does need to distract himself from the impossible individual that is his homonym flatmate.
So instead he tells the truth. "It wasn't a date."
And Sarah's reply is, "Good." She tries to retract the statement then, fumbling with her words, but John won't let her. She wants to, he wants to, why shouldn't they have fun together? (He'll have to remember not to take off his name-covering band; if Sarah reads the blog she'll assume John is soulmate-betraying trash, too.) In seconds, he's secured a date for tonight. Not lost his touch, then. He's relieved.
Figures that Sherlock would try to throw a spanner in his plans. "We're going out tonight," his flatmate announces. Though John can believe that the man needs air, as he claims. Going to change his clothes, John glanced at him and found him still picking up books. It's well past twelve hours that he's been continuously trying to break the goddamn code. His brain must be smoking.
"Actually, I've, er, got a date," John replies, with a little smug smile. Three continents Watson is back in action. Sherlock will have to find some other company tonight. (Though with people's reaction at the idea of him having a friend he might find that hard).
The detective doesn't seem to get his words, so the doctor decides to explain cheekily, "It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun."
"That's what I was suggesting," the sleuth bits back, not pouting – but looking like he could do so.
"No it wasn't...at least I hope not," John replies. No no no no, Sherlock had already rejected him, he couldn't change idea now. He couldn't. Because John would make an exception to his bloody sexuality for him, and he might fall for him – too easily – but they won't last, because they aren't soulmates, and none of John's relationships lasted, and then? If he let himself pretend – pretend this Sherlock was his Sherlock, he would do so even if he didn't mean to, of course he would, everyone did, Harry did, and look how well it turned for her. He is going to ignore any future openings Sherlock will offer him, and be just friends, good friends, and all will be well. Perfect, indeed.
John is going to have a nice date tonight with a nice girl and not his oddly named flatmate who is inquiring about his date plans and pronouncing them boring. Sherlock suggests the Chinese circus. John refuses politely. He knows how to date, thank you. While Sherlock doesn't seem exactly Casanova (though he could, with his looks).
Sherlock isn't so easily deterred. In the end, John gives in. All the while wondering why he even does. Why he can't say no to Sherlock. Why he's thinking of Sherlock while he prepares for his date and should be anticipating that – her. I mean, it would be logic if they were soulmates, but it's been determined that they aren't.
John is reminded of a philosophical theory of ages past (clearly created by people who, like him, had trouble with confusing feelings for homonyms) that stated how maybe, sometimes, soulmates could be onesided. Person A would be person B's soulmate but A's soulmate would be person C. It was bull, of course, like the geocentric theory. They just hadn't found the right one. Like John's Sherlock, who is somewhere in Korea or America or God knows where.
He needs to stop coming up with absurd ideas. He needs to think about Sarah and how to score with her. Though considering how willing she seemed it shouldn't need much effort. Maybe that's the reason he's thinking of Sherlock. He needs something challenging. Yes, that's surely it. Just that.
That night, Sarah is at his side, and John is not-exactly-apologizing for the odd choice of a date venue. He blames it all on a carefully left nameless friend's recommendation. If this goes wrong, he's so scolding Sherlock for it (and definitely not taking any suggestions from the celibate flatmate anymore). They should be seeing a movie. A romantic comedy maybe. Or a scary one so she'd cuddle up to him. Not trapeze artists. How can they set the right mood? Once again, he silently chides himself for giving into Sherlock's whims.
(This circus is Chinese. They're after one of the Chinese Tongs. Sherlock hasn't suggested he bring a date inside the den of murderous criminals, has he? John suspects the chances of having sex with her would go down rather dramatically if she realized as much.)
Moments later, he's thinking the worst thing that could happen is having to admit that he booked the tickets in his flatmate's name. Hopefully Sarah won't realize that Sherlock's the one paying for this. (One of the reasons John agreed to making him pick it – but in truth the problem is that he finds very difficult to deny Sherlock anyway. Misguided feelings. The very reason he needs this date.)
And then the bloody consulting detective himself invites himself over to John's date, introducing himself to Sarah with a smile so fake it hurts to watch. It's outrageous. It's unprecedented. It's madness, just like Sherlock. John is angry. Of course he is. But a voice inside his head insists that they should have expected this. The sleuth had wanted his company tonight, and common sense is not something he seems to possess.
...Sarah is taking this with considerable grace, though it might be the effect of shock. But she excuses herself to the loo, and John imagines her screaming and raging for her ruined night. He decides to face Sherlock. Can't let himself be overwhelmed. "You couldn't let me have one night off?" he hisses.
The detective doesn't even acknowledge the possibility, and starts talking about the murderer, making actually a convincing case for the man to be a tightrope walker or something of the sort. And of course Sherlock wants to investigate the circus. John won't even fault him for this. "Fine. You do that. I'm gonna take Sarah for a pint." Changing plans won't be too great of a bother. What counts is the ending of the evening, and Sarah is as keen as himself on that.
But his mad flatmate needs John's help, and he has the gall to be scolding John. He really doesn't conceive how anyone could be thinking of anything but catching a murderer tonight, and John likes their cases, he really does, but he needs to have a life beyond Sherlock, before he goes crazy too. On another note, this is a ruthless murderer they're chasing and what if Sherlock gets himself killed as he seems to be fond of trying to do? John will have to learn to chase killers while also trying to score with Sarah. Wanted a challenge, did he? Now he got one.
John has his doubts about all this, but at least the performance startles Sarah into holding onto him, so coming here wasn't an entirely bad idea. Now, if only he could concentrate on the nice sensation and not on the sudden disappearance of his flatmate, gone off to snoop between (hopefully not) smugglers and killers, that would be ideal.
He'll have to thank Sherlock for the idea though, because the show is really beautiful. Of course, if he could observe the practically flying man without imagining him murdering not entirely innocent people, he would enjoy this a lot more.
But if their murderer is on stage he can't be murdering Sherlock in the back. Well, not that his associates will probably have any qualms doing the same. But he can't disappear to search for Sherlock and make sure he's safe, damn it. Sarah is probably thinking that his odd flatmate is being considerate by leaving, and would have more than one objection to being abandoned.
Until Sherlock is flung on stage and there's a bastard with a knife and John is not thinking anymore, he's barrelling against the criminal because he's not letting anyone hurt the sleuth, thank you very much. The detective might be a date-ruining git but he doesn't deserve a stab wound. The would-be murderer kicks John hard and he's left winded and absolutely terrified for a moment.
Thank God Sarah – of all people – is attacking the man, too, and putting him out of commission, unbelievable as it sounds. Note to self: never make his boss-slash-girlfriend angry. She kicks ass – and John is utterly, utterly grateful for that. Bit smug, too. It's a great woman that he's pulled. (And a keeper, hopefully).
Then Sherlock is leading them all to Scotland Yard, to inform Dimmock, and it is only when already there – noticing Sarah's bewildered expression – that John remembers he's on a date, not a case. He's followed Sherlock without question, without thought – so much for getting a life beyond his mad flatmate's influence.
Dimmock is still annoying, asking for all the details of the case – even the ones they don't have (yet), but at least he follows their suggestions now (Lestrade talked sense into him, apparently).
It might be an odd first date, but at least John is sure it will be a memorable one – he doubts Sarah ever had something quite like this. And after all, once dealt with Dimmock they're going home and that's good. Things will quiet down. He'll be able to smooth over the ending of his date, he's sure.
Sherlock hates Sarah. He'd wanted tonight the utter happiness of working the case with John, but she had to tag along and divert John's attention away from him. Away from the case, and to silly things like getting off. Who needs oxytocin when they can have adrenaline?
He would have agreed to call tonight a date between them, even if the thought scared him a bit. He tried to – but John reacted badly. (Why? Isn't he happy with Sherlock, like the sleuth is with him?) He would have agreed to anything as long as John didn't bring along an unwanted third wheel, really.
The absurd thing is that Sarah herself has enough common sense to know it's time for her to quietly disappear and leave them to solve this case – hopefully break the code and find the rendezvous place for the gang from the messages John took a picture of. But when Sherlock agrees with her, John becomes angry at him (the sleuth hates when his flatmate is angry at him, though he doesn't care about anyone else) and insists for her to stay. Why should she stay? She'll be useless. Worse, she'll clearly be a distraction for John. He needs John's help (well, not strictly, but he wants it.)
He can't ask for it though, because she's ensuring John takes care of her now, by proposing to eat no less. They're mid case, for God's sake. He can't help the exasperated sigh leaving him. He knows John doesn't share his convictions and would look favourably to the idea even if he wasn't busy trying to please her.
She could have the decency to stick by John's side. It would be distasteful (it shouldn't be) but expected. But no, she's hovering by Sherlock's side while he's trying to solve his damn case. What is it? Payback for 'ruining' their date?
"You solve puzzles for a living," she says. What is that even supposed to mean? It's not just 'puzzles' (though that's welcome, of course – is he so easy to read?). He's stopping crimes.
"Consulting detective," he points out without looking at her (she might see that as encouragement.)
He tries to ignore her and work, he really does, but she doesn't let herself be ignored. She keeps asking questions. Why try to pretend that she's interested? There's no need for her to do so. She should realize. Sherlock has even admitted openly that he doesn't want her here. Why would she loiter around him? Sherlock wishes that she'd leave him alone and go bother John, who would probably not be bothered at all because he likes her.
Why does John even bother dating? Is it really only for the sake of 'getting off ' ? Is mere sex worth all the trouble? The detective doubts it. Besides, she's not John's soulmate, he thinks with grim satisfaction. She won't make John happy.
Then again, John can't be his soulmate either, and look how happy the doctor makes him. Does Sarah give John the same? On second thought, maybe it's better that the woman isn't near John without his supervision. (That will make John angry at him once again, though, won't it?)
And the fact that Sherlock is wondering about John's dating habits now and not solving the case should be enough to prove that John's dates are detrimental to the Work. But if he ordered John to keep from dating, at least mid-case, would John agree to it? He wants to see the case solved, surely, but…does he want sex more? Would he stop admiring Sherlock if he knew how easy it is to sidetrack him?
Sarah is still playing interest (surely it's fake), and touching the evidence, and if she doesn't stop Sherlock is going to deduce something awful about her. She keeps stating what they already know – the numbers are a cipher. But then she adds, "And each pair of numbers is a word." That makes the sleuth pay attention to her. He hadn't told her – did she deduce it?
She's a fighter when in need, as they saw earlier. She must be somehow bright to have gotten a medical degree. But if she's very bright – understanding things at a glance – John won't need him anymore, will he? Not even as amusement. He'll move in with Sarah. Sherlock dreads the prospect.
She's not a genius, luckily. Someone – obviously the much lamented Soo Lin – started translating.
Sherlock calls for his flatmate. (Why is he taking so long in the kitchen anyway? What is John trying to arrange? A 'romantic dinner'? Oh gosh please.) John has to see this. They've been blind – not something Sherlock would like to admit, especially not in the presence of this…intruder. (She might have noticed it, but Sherlock is surely not going to thank her. He would have much sooner if she hadn't distracted him.)
The Black Lotus is offering nine millions for something. They are hunting – and the sleuth needs to know for what. It would give them useful clues (yes, he's sent Dimmock to the circus, but he doesn't trust the Yard to do much with the knowledge).
He invites John back to the museum. Surely solving the code takes precedence over dinner with Sarah? It would be so easy, now. The book must still be on Soo Lin's desk, from when she was translating before being so brutally and definitely interrupted. They can solve this is in a moment. On that desk there weren't hundreds of books – not even a dozen. Of course, he gets angry at himself for not noticing it earlier (for owing it to bloody Sarah), but that doesn't matter now.
He's out of 221B in a moment, and then it hits him suddenly. John's not with him. Getting off takes priority over solving the case. (File away for later. No time to be disappointed now. Which is unreasonable – John's not as involved as him in the Work.)
No, now's time to find a cab but everything seems to go wrong today. The taxi ignores him – they never do that – and the German tourists he's brushed against are angry and is there something else that wants to pile up against him tonight? He apologizes quickly (but not satisfactorily, it seems – what does the man want?) and is about to continue in his search for a cab when a realization hits him like a ton of bricks. (He's solved this as soon as he'd left Sarah's company. He'll really have to insist with John that she doesn't wander into 221B anymore.)
A book everyone owns. Even foreigners, as soon as they set foot in London. The London A-Z. Just like he'd thought, the solution was staring him in the face this whole time. He could go home – he has both Van Coon and Lukis' copies lying about – but John might get annoyed at being interrupted once again in his attempts of seduction. Sherlock doesn't want to be unwanted in his own home. Better to borrow the German tourists' book – no matter very much not incline to sharing the man is.
Now, if page fifteen's first word is a threat of some sort, he'll be certain that he has the right book. Deadman – from Deadman's Lane. He talks out loud – easier to draw conclusions. No John, no skull – no one; so he calls to the absent smugglers, "You were threatening to kill them." He takes out the photo of the painted-over code. Now, the rest of it. One word at a time, the message finally takes shape. "Nine mill for jade pin Dragon Den black tramway." He has the hideout of the Black Lotus!
Surely that's worth interrupting their 'romantic' dinner for? They can catch the criminals. Yes, he should contact Dimmock once again, but it's not him in Sherlock's mind. He can solve this case, and he should do so with John. He runs back home like a bullet, calling gleefully to him – but neither John nor Sarah are in the kitchen. God, they haven't skipped to 'dessert' already, have they?
Sherlock enters the sitting room…Empty, again. But what makes his heart skip several beats is the yellow graffiti on the window. A message he has seen plenty of times. 15, 1. Dead man. What? No, no, no, no, no. It wasn't supposed to go like that. Dead? Surely not John. Well, not yet. The message is a threat. If they just wanted John dead, the body would have been there. No, they want something (the jade pin? Why would they think John has it?). He can stop them. He will stop them. (He has already lost Soo Lin, he's not going to lose John Watson. Absolutely not.)
Time is of the essence, but terror clutches Sherlock and makes him sluggish. He doesn't trust his own Mind Palace map of London for that (he can't risk a misstep, going to the wrong tramway line). He knows he has a map somewhere, but for a moment he's left simply staring at the bookcase. Afraid. Unseeing. What if he fails? (He should have refused this case. All would be well.)
"Oh, Christ," he whispers. He doesn't even believe in God. But if it existed, Sherlock would pray for Him to guard John until he can do it himself.
Then he finally finds his map, and checks out the murderers' hideout. There they are. Now he only has to reach them before they understand that John really has no idea about the goddamned pin and decide to get rid of him. He can do that. (He simply has to.)
He's never been happy to hear John's voice as he is now, hearing him swear that he's not Sherlock Holmes, desperate – for himself? For his date? (A sharp stab of guilt. They've taken John – and Sarah in the bargain – because they thought his flatmate was him. They wanted him. Clumsy smugglers.)
"I don't believe you," the Chinese woman hisses.
"You should, you know," he declares loudly, attracting the woman's attention – away from John. "Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him. How would you describe me, John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?" Fine, now he's openly fishing for compliments, but he's entitled to some. He's solved the case (and if John had picked him over Sarah, he wouldn't even have been kidnapped). One little 'amazing' wouldn't go amiss.
"Late," the doctor replies, exasperated.
Well, he's not. He has been terrified that he could have been, but John is fine and even Sarah seems unharmed. He's not late. He's right on time.
Things start going rather quickly then – persuading the smugglers' boss that shooting really isn't the best idea (a richocheting bullet could hit her; it could hit John; he really has to keep her from shooting), fighting her thugs, and then, saving Sarah.
Or – trying to. He owes her one for before, there's the arrow aimed at her, and Sherlock's not going to lose someone else after Soo Lin in this case. He wouldn't forgive himself. And John wouldn't forgive him, either. His flatmate is already halfway to angry towards him. He doesn't need to disappoint John.
Now, if the Spider wasn't so intent in strangling him, things would go considerably quicker. He still does his best – trying to deal with both issues at once – but once again, he's the one saved in the end. Because John – resourceful, brilliant John – managed to deviate the arrow and not only save Sarah but kill Sherlock's attacker in the process. He can finally untie Sarah. She's sobbing, so he awkwardly tries to comfort her with soft, reassuring words and small touches. That's how it's done, right?
And yet, when he hears John promising her further, much better dates, he can't help the twinge of annoyance within himself. Shouldn't the spectacular failure be enough for John to decide this is an experiment better not tried again? For Sherlock it would be.
He should be chasing down the escaped smugglers, but he doesn't. Because, once again, John wouldn't follow him – and look what happened the last time they got separated. But much more, besides that, Sherlock doesn't want to be on his own now that he has the option not to be.
So, instead, he calls Dimmock – and when the man finally arrives, he tries to strike a deal with him, like he did with Lestrade. "A glittering career," he prospects to the inspector. His name doesn't need to appear anywhere. He's not into this for the recognition. The Work is his life, his drug, his everything. (And now he wants John involved in the Work…how bad can that end? Today he's gotten the first taste.)
The inspector understands that collaborating with him – following his directions – is the price for further advancement in his career. After what he's seen, he'll be incline to make use of Sherlock. Another way to get cases. Perfect. At least one good thing will come out of tonight's failure.
The following day, Seb contacts him. Apparently he's aware that the case has been solved and feels the need to pay the detective. He doesn't need Seb's money. But if he refuses, John will get angry – he's so hung up on money lately. At least he has something nice to do at the the bank – a little follow-up to yesterday's case. The jade pin three people got killed for – the one John got kidnapped for – should still be adorning her clueless owner's hair (she'd never wear it if she knew its value). So he brings along John – the blond can deal with Wilkes, as Sherlock refuses categorically to do so.
He's half tempted to wait until John is done with the human slime to approach Van Coon's secretary (would that get him one sweet 'amazing'?) but he needs to stop thinking of him. This is simply the Work, and John has no right to invade it (even if he has already done so). Will John be disappointed that Sherlock didn't include him in this? Well, Sherlock has been disappointed by his flatmate picking Sarah over the case. They'll be even. Without further hesitation, he approaches the unaware owner of a nine million pound hairpin. (Does she really need to screech like that? Ugh.)
A day later, the news is all over the papers. John comments on it, adding, "Should've just got her a lucky cat." Sherlock can't help the smile flitting on his face. (Why isn't John his friend? Teen Sherlock wonders, with a point of sadness. Shouldn't this easy camaraderie move him a bit further from John's acquaintance?)
Then, John is asking if he cares about the failure of this case. In his words, "It's not enough that we got her two henchmen."
The detective reminds him that the Tong is a vast organization; one they can't possibly think to take down alone (and above all not with Dimmock's help – the man's an idiot). He can't even take comfort in the cracking of the code, like John seems to be doing. "All the smugglers have to do is pick up another book," he explains. So, yes, this case was an utter disappointment (he should have been able to do better – it's no wonder that John prefers someone's else company now).
But what he can't say it's that the worse let down of all the situation is John taking down the selfie they made together during the dinner after what he's called on his blog A study in Pink (such a stupid name) and replacing it on his blog with an image that contains only him. (He doesn't look half as happy in there.) It's sensible, of course, after what has happened. We can't really have any more confused kidnappers. It still depresses Sherlock (he has no right to be sad over this…idiocy). He'll need to snoop into John's phone when he's distracted and send it to himself. Maybe it'll cheer him up. (His moods are more than affected by John. They're entirely at his mercy, and completely unreasonable. That can't be allowed to continue.)