Disclaimer: settings and characters as depicted in BBC series not mine. No money being made. Plot is mine.
Breaking the News
When they woke the next morning, it was raining: solid heavy rain, pouring down like stair rods dropping from the sky, darkening the flat and bathing everything in a watery grey colour. John moved stiffly around the kitchen, making toast and tea and insisting that Sherlock consume his part of the meal when it was ready.
As Sherlock was putting their plates and mugs in the sink, his stomach feeling warm and pleasant, there were footsteps on the stairs and he glanced at John, who was once again installed carefully on the couch.
"We have to tell her, Sherlock," John had obviously heard the footsteps as well, identifying their landlady as quickly as Sherlock had, "Things are going to get … weirder than normal. She deserves to know why – she needs to be warned."
"Alright," Sherlock sighed impatiently, "It would be an advantage not to have to fight on the home front as well."
John rolled his eyes at the allusion to war, but didn't protest. Mrs Hudson's knock was welcomed by his flatmates smile and invitation to sit with him on the couch. Sherlock leant on the door of the kitchen and watched the two of them chatter away at each other: these two boring human beings that had somehow become an essential part of his life. He could see the wisdom of John's words; he just wasn't comfortable with the thought of staging yet another Conversation so soon after the last one.
"Sherlock, dear?" Mrs Hudson's voice broke into his thoughts and he looked up, seeing two concerned faces on the couch. He pushed off the door and crossed the room in swift strides, settling on the couch as well, with John as a barrier between him and his landlady, "John said that you have something to tell me?"
"Yes," Sherlock nodded, relieved when John twined their fingers together gently, pulling Sherlock's hand into his lap to be more comfortable. Sherlock turned to sit sideways, catching the pleased glint in Martha's eye as John began rubbing their fingers together in a way that told Sherlock his flatmate had already noticed how much Sherlock enjoyed that touch.
"It's just that… I've been offered a job," Sherlock began, wincing at the awkwardness of that sentence: so easy to misunderstand, which was annoying…
"By a master criminal, no less," John added, his voice dry and fondly exasperated. Martha tutted under her breath, shaking her head.
"Only you, Sherlock," she patted the hand that John was holding fondly, "And I suppose you're going to need to pretend to take it up, if only to catch this criminal in the act?"
And that simple question there showed Sherlock why he had been so reluctant to tell Martha Hudson about this situation – Martha, who had already had one man in her life, someone she loved, turn out to be a monster. He hadn't wanted to deal with her thinking him a monster as well. Fortunately his Heart knew him better than anyone ever had: and knew too, that Martha Hudson didn't put up with his hi-jinx because she needed a tenant to help pay the upkeep of the house, or felt that she owed him a favour. Sherlock hadn't wanted to lose her good opinion of him and had apparently been worried that she would react just like the rest of his acquaintance so far. John didn't count in that tally – John was his Heart.
"Yes," Sherlock remembered to answer, his tone as neutral as always, "There will be danger involved, for us as well as you, and…"
"Scotland Yard and Sherlock's brother all seem to think that Sherlock will take the job offer for real. They've all indicated that they're expecting him to just throw everything away and start in on his career as a criminal," John spoke up now, his own tone disappointed and angry.
"Well," Martha sniffed indignantly, "We'll see about that! How dare they!"
"Exactly," John grinned, "We didn't want you to hear it from them, without hearing from us first. That way you've got the time to build some counter arguments."
"So this will be like… going undercover, dears? Like they do in the Bill?" Martha smiled and Sherlock bit back his usual response to daytime television references for her sake. After all, she had just shown that she trusted him more than his own flesh and blood did, "How can I help?"
"By not knowing anything about it," Sherlock wasn't about to risk her life at all, John would kill him if anything happened to Martha Hudson, "Just go about your normal routine."
"Well, if you're certain," Martha sighed, "You will let me know if you change your minds… I can be your partner in crime as well as your landlady, dears."
"We're certain," John grinned, "And we will tell you if we change our minds, I promise."
"Good," she nodded, "I'm going to the shops later, dearie, I'll pick you up some staples while I'm out. And something to celebrate with, yes?"
"Yes," John nodded, though Sherlock wasn't sure what they were supposed to be celebrating. She kissed John on the cheek and Sherlock suffered to have his cheek kissed as well, slumping onto John's good shoulder carefully when she was downstairs once more. They sat in silence for a while, John dozing as his body recouped energy from the effort of making toast. Sherlock didn't like that something so simple was so draining at the moment and resolved to make sure that his first foray's into Moriarty's world were minor.
"What is she celebrating?" Sherlock asked when John's head jerked as he woke from the doze, his flatmate taking an awkward breath.
"Either she's happy that we're in a relationship together where you're comfortable holding my hand in public," John's voice was rough and Sherlock made a note to get him a drink of water, "Or she's happy that you trust her enough to confide in her about going under cover like this."
"It will be a very… demanding role," Sherlock cautioned his flatmate, pulling his fingers free reluctantly before getting up and fetching a glass of water for John. He supervised closely as John drained it off and then carried the glass back into the kitchen, using the actions as a delaying tactic. He wasn't sure how much John had realised about what they were going to have to do if Moriarty was going to trust them enough to get close.
"You'll have to break the law pretty convincingly, Sherlock," John agreed, shocking the thin genius with his insight, "And we'll have to put on a pretty good act between us as well. The whole 'flatmate trying to pull his friend back from the brink' thing."
"Yes," Sherlock nodded, "You do realise that Moriarty will try to convince you that I'm only pretending to be setting him up at some point."
"I know. He won't be able to, though," John shrugged his good shoulder, "But unless you can find a way to work me into this with you, we'll have to risk it…"
"Hmm," Sherlock frowned, "I would prefer to have you with me… in a situation like this a partner is much better than going it alone."
"Do you think that we can set up a situation where we have to go on the run? One where it only makes sense that you and I are together, without making Mycroft decide to really lock you up?" John frowned, "I'm not that enamoured of the idea of asking for his help, especially after the shite he pulled yesterday, but we'd be fools not to use the resources we have."
Sherlock scowled and settled John so he was lying down again. His Heart was losing colour in his cheeks, which meant pain. All the while, though, his mind was examining and discarding scenarios that would force Mycroft to help him. They couldn't afford to go on the run while John was still so weak, but that didn't mean they couldn't use his convalescence to prepare their strategy. He sat on the floor again, leaning against John's side carefully and thinking hard, a veritable tempest of possibilities and contingencies swirling through his brain.
A small part of him took the time to appreciate that John had merely offered a suggestion and then left him to think it over, not insisting on hearing Sherlock's thoughts as he planned or badgering him for further conversation.
Disclaimer: settings and characters as depicted in BBC series not mine. No money being made. Plot is mine.