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Chapter Seven

At the surgery, John felt almost normal again. He dreaded seeing Sarah, but he also knew that he needed to talk to her and try to explain. This time he had thought of flowers and when he walked past the receptionist, she narrowed her eyes at him, making it clear that everyone knew about his unacceptable behavior.

After the last patient before lunch break had left Sarah's room, John knocked, mentally preparing to be yelled at; an irrational thought, though, because Sarah was not a woman who would get loud.

He entered, not quite knowing what to do and what to say, and there she was, staring at him from behind her desk, frozen as she was wrapping a scarf around her neck. "John," she said eventually, and moved away from her desk and towards him and then drew him into her arms, pushing the door closed behind him.

"Are you okay?" She moved back to be able to see his face. "I was so worried." Just a tad accusing, and John felt incredibly bad. Of course, he could have called, and he should have. But he had been preoccupied with being confused about his feelings and just glad to be alive. And Sarah had just not been on his radar.

"Can I take you out for lunch?"

She smiled and nodded. "Please do." Sarah took the flowers and placed them carefully on her desk. "I will tell Gertie to get a vase."

Outside, she pulled him close, linking their arms, and even though John liked the familiarity of it, he did not want to get her hopes up, not now, not after what had happened.

The little café served soup and sandwiches and Sarah actually asked about his flu, ready to order chicken soup for him, but he assured her that he would be happy with some sandwiches. A few minutes into lunch, he still hadn't found the right words to start explaining himself, but Sarah, as always, was incredibly patient with him.

Eventually, she took his hand and gave him a gentle squeeze. "What happened, John?"

John picked up his tea cup, taking a sip just to carefully place it on the table in front of him again. "I think I fell in love with him."

Judging by her face, this was definitely not what she had expected him to say. But really, that was what was important, not the whole episode of the library, but the reason why he had acted so out of character around her. "When I was talking to you and you…you said these things about me, and him, about us, I realised you were right. I mean, I didn't know how right until much later, but …."

He didn't quite know how to put it.

"In love, really? With him?" She seemed to believe him, but obviously couldn't imagine that anyone would fall in love with Sherlock Holmes. "And he with you?" she then asked, looking slightly worried.

John knew he blushed, scarlet, and the grin was back, that stupid grin that just didn't want to go away again, no matter how mad he had been at Sherlock earlier. That was all the answer she needed. "Okay. This is very weird. I'd never had a break up with someone who left me for another man. And especially not for a man like him"

"I didn't know I felt that way. I mean, I didn't know he felt that way. But you were finally saying what you were feeling and that put everything into perspective, I think. That, and the fact that he and I almost died."

"Yes, I was wondering about that. Detective Inspector Lestrade was rather worried when he showed up at your flat, which did not really help me and Mrs Hudson to calm down. And when you called, he first thought you were talking in code." She chuckled, but he could see that the memory was painful. "But I knew that even though you seemed confused, you were not saying this to fool anyone. I think the DI was more shocked than I was when you sent that text afterwards."

John wanted to tell her how mad he was at Lestrade for plotting behind his back, but he figured that Sarah wasn't really the one to talk to about that. "I am really very sorry."

"I know, John, I know. But at least you seem to know what you want now, which is a relief. I was really close to planning my life with you, but in the end it never seemed realistic, because he just didn't fit in there. I think I always knew that he wouldn't just go away."

John put his chin on his hand and looked at her. "You know, I was really not myself that day and I know I said some really hurtful things, and you don't deserve that. I mean, you almost got killed on our first date and you still went out on a second date with me and many more after, so that had to mean something, right? And I know that you would have been the one…if my life was just slightly different."

She smiled at him. "If only." And then she frowned and looked at him a little worried. "Where is he then?"

"Well, I wouldn't bring him on a date with you, would I?" They both had to laugh at that, heartily.

"By now he usually would have shown up or sent a text or called or …"

"He's in Canada, solving a case for Lestrade."

"And you're here?"

Women, John thought, had an extraordinary sense in finding the weak spots of men without even trying hard.

"I don't want to talk about it." He was being unfair again, especially since she obviously did care about his well being, but somehow talking about feeling sorry for himself didn't seem a very manly thing to do. It was bad enough that Sherlock had to deal with his hurt pride, he didn't want to let Sarah suffer as well.

"Did you two fight?"

Okay, so much for not talking about it. "No, not really. It's just…he…used me in a way to solve a case and I just felt betrayed because I expected him to tell me about it."

The 'I told you so stare' was not welcome, but expected. "I'm not saying that I thought he wouldn't do that, but I had just hoped that now that we're…"

"Together?" Sarah tried to help him along.

"Yes, together, I thought that he might include me more. I don't know." He rubbed his face. "I think I just forgot who he is for a while, how he is. I shouldn't be so surprised. I mean, I've been dealing with his unorthodox ways for a year and I usually was annoyed, but now it just felt like it's more personal, you know?"

"John, did you really think that you could change him? I mean, he crashed almost every date we were on, and I don't even want to think about his motifs now, but he did, and he never understood why that would be unacceptable. He does not understand what is right and what is wrong when it comes to normal human behavior. I mean, I'm not saying that he is completely mad, but he has no sense of decency and he never thinks about the emotional consequences of his actions. But I understand that you hoped he would be different with you, and I'm sure he is, at least a bit, because he seemed to at least listen to you when you told him things were not done the way he did them."

John looked a little bewildered. Maybe he should have talked more about these things with Sarah rather than about patients and silly television shows, because she seemed to understand a great deal more of his emotional turmoil than he himself did.

"So, I suggest you stop worrying. Whenever he comes back you can tell him that you feel like this is not the right way to go about it, but don't expect him to really change. I guess the fact that he will listen to you and probably apologise says a lot about your influence on him. It is more than he will ever do for anybody else."

"You are a life saver, you know that?" He was truly amazed, and also a little embarrassed by that feeling.

Sarah finished her coffee and then started to get up. "I have to go back. Will you come back and work or do you want me to let you go?"

John cringed at the last phrase, realising it implied more than just losing his job. "I think I'd rather stay at home for a while and help him with his paperwork."

"You worry about him, don't you?"

"Because he is so incredibly stupid sometimes!" He sounded exasperated, but couldn't help but smile. "I don't think I'm ready to go back to work and I think I would find it hard working with you." And at the faltering smile on her face he added quickly, "because they all hate me now and know how badly I treated you and it would be very uncomfortable. And with me gone, they can at least gossip about me a bit."

That had her smiling again. "John, I'm not out of the world, you know? You can always come and talk to me if you feel like it."

"Thank you, Sarah. You're an angel." John paid and opened the door for her.

"I do miss you, John."

He pursed his lips, not quite knowing what to answer to that.

"Good bye." She kissed him, on the lips, but too quickly for him to respond, so all that was left for him was to watch her go. Well, he thought to himself, he did not quite deserve for her to be so civil, so maybe he should swallow his pride and be nice to Sherlock instead of being unreasonably hurt.

On his way back he decided to actually cook supper for himself and Mrs Hudson tonight. The fridge was still full and their landlady would probably know how to keep him entertained with gossip and bad telly. Grinning, he kicked some snow away, watching it explode into a white cloud in midair.

"John?"

He froze and then slowly turned around, keeping his hands in his pockets.

"Hi."

Lestrade was looking at him, an unreadable expression on his face. "Hello John."

He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself but sound offended. "Before we start the small talk, could you do me a favour and stop calling me that?"

Lestrade looked a bit taken aback and John understood that he probably had no idea why he was mad at him. "I apologise. I didn't think it would be an issue after…"

"After you practically listened to my private phone conversations? No, really, never mind, why don't you install a camera in our bedroom?"

Lestrade obviously wanted to defend himself, but as he spoke, John could see understanding dawning on his face. However, when he mentioned the bedroom, Lestrade's eyebrow rose dangerously high.

"Bedrooms," John hastily added, feeling himself blush again, knowing perfectly well that the effect of his little speech was now lost.

Lestrade, being his usual reserved self, didn't say a word about it. "Do you want to sit down somewhere?"

"No, I just had lunch. With Sarah. The breakup talk, you know."

"I was thinking more about beer?"

"It's just two o'clock."

"Well, the case is closed, so I took the day off. Do you have any pressing duties?" Lestrade clearly knew that he had been immobile those last days.

"No."

"You're obviously upset, and I have a hunch that I know what this is about, so I guess I do owe you a pint or two."

John unclenched his fists and nodded. "Very well then, if you have no other commitments."

They walked to The Duke of York and sat down in the back. Except for two Japanese tourists who giggled into their Guinness they were practically alone. Sherlock would be able to tell them their whole life story, John thought, again realising how lonely he felt without him by his side. "What are you having?"

"Whatever you'll have." John shrugged, wondering whether this was a good idea. Probably not.

When Lestrade came back and placed the lager in front of him, he smiled, dutifully, but avoided looking at him.

"Do you really mind if I call you John?"

"I only mind if you switch back and forth without a real reason."

"Alright then," he held out his hand towards John, "Greg."

John raised an eyebrow but took his hand. "Hi Greg. I'm John."

Lestrade chuckled and picked up his glass. "We should have done that a while ago, I guess."

"Get pissed in the middle of the day?"

Bursting into laughter, Lestrade had to put down his beer again. John relaxed. "Yeah, that."

After a while, John sighed and leaned forward. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what made you think it was a good idea to tap my phone?"

Lestrade shrugged, dragging his finger through the ring of beer his glass had left on the table. "We didn't tap your phone, but his. He explained how he would go about it and that's exactly what happened. I simply did not think that it might be a problem. I do see that it might have been a little strange for you, not knowing that I was there on the other end, and that Sherlock was just trying to get him to sing…"

"God." John rubbed his face. "Does that mean that I can never be sure whether you're listening in on our phone conversations? Because we might have said things that were not necessarily meant for your ears, or anybody's ears, except for his and mine."

Lestrade couldn't help but grin. "You are making me curious. I'd love to have something to blackmail him with." Then, slightly less amused. "You didn't … you know…."

"No, God no." John frowned at the thought, which was not necessarily a bad one. "We're not…." He waved his hand around.

"Ah…." Relieved?

"Anyway," John cleared his throat, "I'd just like to know that I have at least a tiny bit of my privacy left."

"Yeah, well, we don't have you under surveillance, you would have to pick that fight with someone else, but I'm pretty sure that you can't win on that one. I wouldn't even be surprised to learn that your phone and radio are bugged and that someone records your every move, inside and outside of your flat."

"Brilliant, you're now making me paranoid."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if Mycroft Holmes had bugs in my home as well."

"Great, just great." John finished his beer. "I'll buy the next round."