The waves cascading in the background were meant to be idyllic, Sherlock supposed, but he was in an atrocious mood. Sure, getting to see John again sounded good, but Sherlock seemed to have deleted one important fact: he was no longer in London, and it was hot.
He'd let Mrs Hudson pack for him, she'd insisted of course, and so she had packed some shorts he didn't even know he owned so she must have bought for him, along with some awful shirts that he was refusing to wear at this point, all of which led to one thing.
Sunburn.
Sherlock was red and in pain and he had to walk out of the sea and shake his hair so the camera could capture him and make it slow motion for the next show. The salt water helped, but the fourteen takes did not.
John had to do something quite similar. He had to get up from sunbathing on the beach, pull off his sunglasses and wink at the camera. He mastered that fairly quickly, but then he had to think about what he had to say.
"I am looking forward to seeing John again. He was nice."
"No, Sherlock, we need something more than that. Elaborate a little, please?"
"I am looking forward to seeing John again. He was very aesthetically pleasing. And nice."
"No, Sherlock, no. Go again."
"I am looking forward to seeing John again. He was aesthetically pleasing, seemed like a nice guy, and we fit well together, I think."
"That'll have to do."
"Yeah, I'm looking forward to meeting Sherlock. Again. More properly this time. Wow. It's Sherlock Holmes, y'know? No? Right. He's just so smart, I'm kind of worried about how I'm gonna keep up."
"I hope the activity isn't something that will take up too much energy, I've not slept in a while."
"I don't wanna have to do anything too physical. I'm in good shape, but my leg…"
"Water-skiing? Great."
"Hello to you too. How've you been, Sherlock?"
"Fantastic, and you?" Sherlock replied, eyes focusing of the water-skiing equipment and not flicking to John at all.
"Good. Yeah, good thanks."
Silence fell.
John thought about saying something while they put their wetsuits on, but decided against it.
Sherlock thought about how it was very good to find someone who didn't need to chatter constantly.
"I can't water-ski. How am I meant to stand up with my leg?" John mused, unaware he was thinking out loud.
Sherlock said nothing, he just turned around and kissed John.
John spent the rest of the water-skiing time thinking about why Sherlock randomly kissed him like that.
When they finished, as they were just about to part ways before dinner, Sherlock leaned in again and turned instead to John's ear.
"I told you it was psychosomatic."
"Yeah, I really like him. I really, really like him. I can't wait for dinner."
"I'm pleasantly surprised by John. I may actually be able to tolerate him."
"Thank you again, for helping with my leg." John said, after a gap in the conversation. The silences had been comfortable, both feeling at ease. Sherlock wasn't eating much, and was instead mostly watching John eat, but John didn't mind.
"It was nothing; your therapist should have been able to fix that easily. You should get a new one." John didn't ask how he knew about his therapist: this was Sherlock Holmes, he was a genius and could notice things naturally that others had to study in depth for.
"I noticed you got quite sunburnt, you shouldn't have been wandering around without a shirt on, especially with no sun cream!" The doctor in John kicked in when Sherlock moved his head a little and the harsh red on his skin became more noticeable in the darkening light.
"Thank you doctor, but I didn't see you complaining." Sherlock retorted, winking at John before picking a little bit of his food off his plate and popping it into his mouth.
"Yes, I think I definitely will see him again. He's interesting and kind of eccentric and he's just kind of… I don't know. But yes, I would like to see him again."
"I like John." The camera man made encouraging movements. "I don't like people, but I like John. I think I might see him again."
The cameras then filmed each of them walking away from the table.
"Fancy seeing you here, John." Sherlock said, lounging in a chair.
John looked back at the door he'd just come through, and then at the key in his hand.
"It's my room." He stated, slightly confused.
"Incorrect. I just checked with the hotel, and by some unfortunate mishap that may or may not have been my fault, I think you'll find this is our room." Sherlock stood up as he was talking, and ended up a little closer to John than expected when he finished speaking and ended with what was kind of half smile, half leer.
John was more than fine with that turn of events.
Hello. I made a long one, yay.
Where have all my reviewers for this gone? My emails are flooded with spam and no reviews to break it up. Heartbreaking.
But yes, here we are. Chapter five. I couldn't remember how I planned this one out, so you've either got one more or two more chapters coming your way.
Any innuendoes are deliberate, but sneakily so.
And now off I run to update John Watson, John Watson. Ciao.