Monday, 2 days later.
John was tired of the night. It wasn't the night per say, but the way his thoughts wandered. To all of his troubles. To how he was going to pay for medical school. How he was going to pay for college. Naturally, he sought a distraction.
10:28 pm
Hello Sherlock.
10:30
Who is this?
10:30
I came to your house on saturday, you told me everything about myself.
10:31
Oh. Joe. Hello. I don't want to talk to you.
10:31
It's John, and why not? I want to know how you did that.
10:31
The power of deduction. Now go away, I'm busy
10:32
Okay, but first tell me about you. Got a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Cat?
10:32
We're not friends. This is going nowhere. Goodbye Joe.
10:45
…It's John.
Tuesday
Sherlock woke up early to a knock at the door. He checked his watch. 9:00 am. Early. He swung his legs down from the couch and smoothed his jeans. Three knocks. Polite. He ambled to the door and tousled his hair. He had barely twisted the doorknob when he heard John's voice.
"Hi! I thought I would stop by in between classes… I have tea!" Sherlock was getting genuinely worried about John.
"John." He growled, "Have you considered that you may have a small attachment disorder, possibly obsession? It's normal to have crushes, but I do believe this has transcended to a new level." He paused and recited the standard lie. "I'm a sociopath. I can't feel sentiment."
John rolled his eyes. "It's called being kind, Sherlock. I don't like you. I'm not even gay. I'm trying to be friends. Haven't you ever heard of that?"
Sherlock sighed. Obviously attached. Obviously not as straight as he said he was. "Come in, but I don't like this. And be quiet, loud noises mess up my concentration." John came in handing Sherlock a paper cup of tea as he passed.
"You're fairly highly functioning for a sociopath." He remarked quietly.
Sherlock scowled. "High Functioning Sociopath." He flopped on the couch and clasped his hands. "Shut up," he scolded John, who was getting ready to speak.
"I'm not-"
"Shut up."
Sherlock figured that John would be around for a bit, so he made a file. Once inside his mind palace he ran down the stairs and found the library. He walked quickly through the rows of shelves and opened his file cabinet marked 'Other People.' He pulled his memories and deductions of John from his mind and put them in a manilla envelope. Filing it, he exited into reality. John was staring quizzically. "What was that?" He asked.
"I was saving you to the files in my mind palace because you seem like you aren't going anywhere."
"You're making sure you never forget me then." John laughed.
"When you put it like that I want to burn your file." Sherlock growled.
John looked outside to the springtime sun. School would be through soon. He sighed. "Let's go outside. I have a class to get to and you can walk me there." He said. Sherlock scowled but got up off of the couch and got his coat. John shook his head at the black and blue monstrosity Sherlock had donned. He was now putting on an unnecessary blue scarf. "Come along then." He said. He almost seemed excited.
...
"What do you have against me?" John asked as they walked through the streets of london to the Saint George's University campus. Sherlock shrugged a bit. "You're boring." He said in a deadpan. John pursed his lips."And I suppose you're the fucking holy fountain of excitement?" He retorted. Sherlock almost laughed. "Yes." He said, turning up his collar. John jumped forwards a bit to keep up with him. "How?"
"My brother's in the government, and he's hooked me up with a department of Scotland Yard. I solve crimes for them as a consultant."
"A consulting detective?"
"Yes I suppose you could call it that." Sherlock conceded. "Actually I like it. Hm. Anyway, I help them out sometimes. I'm very good. Dangerous lifestyle." He turned and smirked at John. "Also I'm a genius. Not my fault, I just know how to manage my life."
John rolled his eyes. "When did you become the official show-off of Pompous Town?"
Sherlock had just decided to fight that comment when a car came around the corner and roared down the street towards them going at least three times the speed limit. Sherlock saw his impending doom bearing down on him and admittedly froze, thinking. His mind roared into danger mode and he began to think of ways out of the situation with the precious time that he didn't have. John didn't. The shorter man barreled into Sherlock, knocking him to the pavement with a force that he didn't look capable of. Together they rolled and scrambled to the sidewalk just as the car shot past. "Holy fuck!" Breathed John, taking a moment to flip of the driver. Sherlock took a deep breath and sat up. He said nothing to John as he dusted off his coat and stuck a third nicotine patch onto his arm. John got up with a bit of a struggle, dusting his jeans off and examining his ripped jumper. He glanced down at his cheap watch wearily. "I have to go. Are you okay?"
"Yes." Sherlock said. John pointed to his watch and turned to leave.
"Wait!" Sherlock said. "Thank you, John. Lunch tomorrow?" John let a smile creep up his face and nodded. "Perfect."