Trois Mousquetaires Parte III
Three men with fully bellies lounged lazily on the assorted furniture in the sitting room jabbering away in some trial nonsense jumping topics left and right. All of a sudden, Sherlock righted himself sitting ramrod straight and planted his feet firmly.
"John. Describe the place for me," he asked politely.
"Why? Sherlock, you know what the flat looks like. Do you want something specific?"
"No. Nothing. Look at the room for me, start in the far corner by the door. Treat it like a crime scene."
Lestrade and John exchanges shrugs, neither knew what game he was playing.
"Okay. So in that corner is the poor sad wallpaper with the six bullet holes and right of it is the floor lamp stand with a defective bulb and faded lamp shade, then there's..."
By the time John had described half of the area, Sherlock spoke again,"Good. Now it's my turn to see for you. Close your eyes and don't cheat, Lestrade's vision is just fine, he'll tell me if yours aren't closed."
"Fine, they're closed," he turned to face the two men squarely,"See Lestrade, closed. Happy Sherlock?"
"Yes, now picking up where you left off. There is the rug with the top left corner curled up, and the fringe is nearly worn down shreds. The table on top looks in the same condition as the rug. Worn out thoroughly with several scratch marks, missing spots of varnish, and a cup ring stain from when you left your iced drink out on the wood too long..."
Little by little Sherlock worked his way through all the other pieces of furniture. John had started describing the each specific areas under his breath before Sherlock even had a chance to finish his sentence. Strange of all was the fact of John not being aware he was mumbling away, so Sherlock let his voice trail off when John started detailing the black leather chair so beloved by the consulting detective.
Sherlock simply sat there and stared at his best friend wondering how much longer it was take him to solve 'this case'.
"John," he looked straight at the man, "Did you realise you started speaking when I was telling you the layout of this room? In fact toward the latter portions, you beat me to describing the details."
Amazed by his own unknown actions, John covered his open mouth with surprise, "I can't believe I did that. I honestly didn't even know I was doing that. Wow, guess I could see what next you were going to describe based on what you had already told me, so I just unintentionally spoke it."
Making no comment to John's, he simply repeated the original question again "John. If I can solve a case without knowing the majority of the scene that lays at my feet, then what might you deduce as the reason for my success," then leant back in the chair drumming his finger on the armrest waiting for his best friend to finally realise the answer.
Greg gave him a pointed look and silently mouthed, "it's obvious."
"Well...," John started then paused.
It finally dawned on him.
"Oh," was all he said and sank deeper into his cushion contemplating the depth of Sherlock's point. Finally those cryptic words made sense..."what might you deduce as the reason for my success?"
Sherlock! I don't know what to say in response to that. I...I never knew you thought of me like that? Thought of us like that. I really am the blind one, like Greg pointed out. I've always made it my point to let you do whatever you wanted as long as it was with in reason and safe, I just assumed you like doing everything yourself...
"Well," Sherlock prompted, waiting for John to explain his understanding of the situation, "I want to hear you say it."
"Sherlock, I don't know what to say. I... I...wow...never ever thought of our being together like that, especially when at crime scenes," he suddenly felt the impulse to hug his best friend.
"That's not what I want to hear, you know what I want. Tell me," he countered tapping his foot softly on the rug.
As John pulled the man up into a firm hug then whispered softly into his ear, "I am the reason for your success."
"Yes you are," breaking the hug he stared straight into John's eyes and spoke clearly, "YOU are the reason for OUR successful streak on every single case. I taught you how to observe as I once could, so now you know exactly how describe every detail with such precision. Due to your well-worded detail specific observations, I am able to visualise the rest of the area and plot out a map of the area."
"So that's how you solved the case with only half of the scene. Half of it you "saw" and the other half you "assumed". I understand now why you had me describe the flat," he guided his friend back to sit down. Taking his chair, he pointed a finger to Greg accusingly, "How on earth could you have known the answer to his question from the start? He didn't tell you, did he?"
"Oi! Nope, man didn't say a word, I just knew. I've always know. That was simple question, anyone could answer that in a heart beart, well anyone and everyone except you. Honest and true, I would wager majority of the Yard could have told you the answer," he chuckled and patted Sherlock's back in a manly manner, "There, I told you I wouldn't say a thing. Well, I did start dropping hints, but poor sod didn't catch on. No offense John, but I would have thought you might as least caught on when I became adamant in disproving your incorrect thinking on being a hindrance or unwanted."
Now Sherlock chuckled, much to John's embarrassment, "You amaze me constantly with your silly thoughts on non-consequential subjects. Really now, hindrance and being unwanted? I recall hearing those words on occasions past. Who put those thoughts in your mind?"
Not letting his friend get a word in edge-wise, he rambled on quickly, "As far as I'm concerned at present, none of your current friends or dear wife feel that way about you. So, that only leaves one option left. You concocted those outrageously unintelligent, stupid, demeaning, worthless, and simply wrong notions to clutter your mind! I thought you said you need mind space for important things. John. If you choose those idiotic notions for filling up space, then I suggest you listen to my brilliant ideas of committing the entire Tube lines, bus routes, and map of London roads to your memory, those will serve you a much better purpose."
By the time Sherlock finished his soap-box speech, he was no longer sitting, but towered over the smaller man pressed tightly against the back of his chair looking slightly worried and a bit on the petrified spectrum. He did look rather flushed and lacked his cool, nonchalant finesse because of just finished jumping all over John's erroneous thoughts.
Never thought Sherlock would get so defensive about anything, turns out I'm wrong. He's lost his temper countless times, especially when I picked him off the streets from his terrible lifestyle, helped him return to becoming a decent and respectable British citizen. However, this is the only time I know of to date in which he looses his calm demeanour over a topic like this. In the past it was lost over drugs, arguing with Mycroft, but never about this!
"I'm sorry Sherlock," John squeaked out, "I didn't know you would be so worked up about it, I was wrong. It is a stupid thought, I don't know what I was thinking. It won't happen again, promise."
"Good. Make sure you keep it. Now give me your hand quick, it's coming again." Sherlock grasped one hand on John's forearm to steady himself. Not loosing another second, both him and Lestrade sprung from their places and guided their friend to lay on the sofa.
Again with these blasted excruciating headaches!
They came at such inopportune moments, but for once he felt a very tiny amount of pleasure for it to present itself.
Now John has a chance to prove to himself he will never be unwanted or a hindrance to me.
It was his last thought before the pain sucked him into a state of unconsciousness. John couldn't help but notice the faint smile on his best friend's face as his doctoring side took over. Greg saw John smile because he notice the smile. So he smiled too.
Tous pour un, un pour tous. (All for one, one for all.)
-Charles de Batz de Castelmore d'Artagnan.
A-N:
Thank you for reading and all the new favourites/ follows. I hope you've enjoyed the first story featuring the Three Musketeers, also known as, Sherlock-John-Lestrade adventures. I have plans to write more.
"Watching Over Each Other" will be updated soon as I was editing this story so it delayed the other one. Poll is available on my bio page if interested in participating.
For those that are not familiar with "Les Trois Mousquetaires", it is a French adventure story written by Alexandre Dumas Pere about three men and their new friend (D'Artagnan) : Athos, Aramis, Porthos. They are the Mousquetaires de la maison militaire du roi - Royal musketeers of the French monarchy. D'Artagnan isn't initially part of it. He later does join the regiment, and Athos servers under him for a time being.