Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they all belong to their respective creators.
~ How Soon Is Now?
John stood outside the police precinct, gathering up courage to do what he had to do. He argued internally on whether or not he could do this mission thing. The stress eventually got to him and he sat down on a bench near the precinct wall. John leaned back on the bench and thought about his conversation with Mycroft last night.
(Flashback)
"I don't find it necessary to repeat myself, you heard me."
John leaned forward, his expression still puzzled.
"You want me to blog? About what?!"
"About what you've been blogging about; Sherlock, of course."
"Ok, wait, just …hang on. How exactly am I suppose to blog about Sherlock when the rest of the world thinks he's dead?" he asked with a tilt of his head.
"So far, you've only blogged about a handful of his cases since you first met him, not the ones that he's done before then."
"So… you want me to blog about his past cases? What for?" the dirty blond shrugged.
"For the same reason you threw an adolescence out of your office. The world thinks Sherlock Holmes is a fraud when we both know the truth, his genius can't be faked. When Sherlock comes back into the world, he will need his credibility back, not enough to idolize him but enough to have him work on cases."
The expression on Mycroft's face was that of a teacher lecturing a child and it made John want to punch the man.
"Ok, I'm going to try and figure out what you just said. You, want me, to blog about Sherlock's past cases, in order to re-build his credibility as a consulting detective, so that when he comes back into 'the world', he can get back to work? Is that what you're saying?"
"Precisely."
"Ok, and that just leaves me with a few questions. One, you want me to establish his credibility under the pretense that he's 'dead', but when he comes back, wouldn't that contradict what I'm blogging about? I can blog all I want about how everything he did and said was true, convince the readers he wasn't fake when they think he's dead and suddenly, he pops up, alive and well. How are the readers supposed to handle that? That John Watson was lying or he knew Sherlock was alive all along or some other barmy conspiracy will no doubt emerge and ruin everything. Imagine the tabloids, oh the press will have a field day. How is all of that going to play out?"
"We'll get to that when it arrives, until then just blog about the cases."
"Which brings me to another question, how in the hell am I suppose to find out about Sherlock's past cases?"
Mycroft smirked a cake-eating grin, which both scared and amused John, he would have laugh if he weren't so irritated.
(End Flashback)
John looked up, letting his eyes roam the sky, internally thinking,
'This is crazy, this is mad, but it's for Sherlock. I can do this…yes, I can do this…I will do this, I have to do this.'
He made up his mind, getting up and striding into the police station, heading in the direction of the one person that can and will help him out.
The doctor knocked on the open office door belonging to Detective
Inspector Greg Lestrade, getting the man's attention.
"Oh hey, long time no see John, come in, how are you?"
The dirty blond entered the office, shaking hands with Lestrade before sitting in an offered seat.
"Hi Greg, I've been well for the most part, you know." Lestrade leaned back in his chair behind his desk.
"Yeah, I hear you … you still live there, at 221 B?"
"Yeah, still living … there."
"Oh, good, yeah, nice place, the rent must be good."
"Yeah, it is, and I can't leave Mrs. Hudson there alone … so it's just us .. there, yeah."
An awkward silence went between them; both men not exactly sure how to continue talking, the small talk wasn't cutting it. They didn't interact as much as when Sherlock was around, so John decided to just get straight to the point of his visit.
"Look, Greg .. um, I need to see all of the cases Sherlock has worked on and helped you with."
"The cases, why?" Lestrade was amused.
"To blog about them."
"What?! Why?" The grey detective's expression went from amusement to startled.
"All I can tell you is that I have to blog about them."
"Good to see sense of humor hasn't diminished, nice one." He smiled
"I'm not joking." John had the most serious and stoic face on, it made the grin on Lestrade's face falter.
"You haven't blogged since … in-in months, why start again now?"
"Because."
"Because…?"
"It's something I have to do."
"Look, John, I can't just let you see all of those cases, there's been a change in policy, ever since you're incredible get away with Sherlock. The chief's been breathing down my arse ever since, he's also extra strict about the police reports and related reports."
John then pulled out a document from a manila envelope he had and held it up for Lestrade to view.
"Then it's a good thing I have this, here."
The doctor gave the document to the grey detective, enjoying the stunned expression on his face.
"This is real."
"I think the signature proves itself."
"A government order to release to you all of the cases Sherlock Holmes has been involved with, nicely done John."
The doctor smirked.
"You know that there are certain and very strict protocols to go through, mostly the approval signature of the chief superintendent."
"Yeah."
"The same chief superintendent that you punched."
"Yeah, I know."
Lestrade eyed John, trying to find either the real reason behind the order or trying to find a crack in John's demeanor, but found nothing.
"Alright, I'll gather the according papers and call the chief for clearance."
"I only hope there's no trouble."
The chief superintendent was furious, face red with seething anger at the call he received from DI Lestrade's office, as he walked to said office. He rounded on the office door and entered, not noticing John.
"What's the meaning of this?! Clearance on more than 50 cases?! Lestrade, what the hell is going on!?"
"Yes Sir, but they're cold cases."
"Yeah?! And who is inquiring about these cold cases?!"
John coughed, bringing the chief's attention towards him.
"You!"
"Yes."
"You're the one inquiring about the cold cases?"
"Yeah, I am."
"I refuse to grant clearance."
"Well, Sir, that's … not entirely up to you."
Lestrade handed the official document over to the chief, said man was reading it over, getting even more red in the face, if possible. He glared at John while the dirty blond smirked nonchalantly, secretly getting a kick out of the chief's reactions.
"May I inquire as to why you want all those cases?"
"You may but I can't tell you."
"Then I refuse to grant clearance, no matter who signed this paper until I know what the cases are used for!"
"As I told DI Lestrade, all I can say is that I'm going to blog about it, other than that, I'm under this."
John pulled out two other documents, handing them to Lestrade.
"He made you sign a gag order?"
Lestrade felt his phone vibrate and answered his phone, instantly recognizing the number.
"The other one is for the both of you to sign."
"No, I won't do it."
"Chief, it's for you."
"Who is it?!" he snapped.
"Mycroft Holmes."
John was getting quite the luxury of seeing all the expressions on the chief superintendents face as he spoke with Mycroft Holmes. The chief got off the phone, handing it back to Lestrade, still red in the face and wanting to rebel against whatever the elder Holmes told him but he knew, he knew and he hated that he couldn't refuse the orders; it burned him.
The chief glared at John,
"Are these the only documents I have to sign?" the man grounded out
"No, I've got a few more here."
John pulled out some more documents, casually. The chief had his lips set in a thin line, accepting the documents, signing and handing them over for Lestrade to sign.
"Donovan!" The burly chief barked out.
She came in quickly, with the expression of puzzled alarm and surprise when she saw John's face.
"Yes Sir?"
"Make four copies of these and send a copy down to records."
"Sir, these are to release information to him?"
"Yes, they are."
"But Sir, we can't, how did he-?!"
"Dammit Donovan, just make the bloody copies and give one to records, now leave!"
John secretly enjoyed the scandalized look on Donavan's face and smiled when she threw him a nasty glare.
After all of that business at the precinct and some extras errands, John arrived at the flat, receiving news from Mrs. Hudson that some men stopped. He remembered what Anthea said the night before, about the change in his land-line and internet connection, obviously she wasn't joking. There on the desk were a couple of papers, mostly the technical details concerning his land-line and wifi setup. He skimmed through the papers, and put them back. John got comfortable, taking off his coat and undoing the few top buttons of his shirt, putting the kettle on for tea. To be honest, John had no idea where this whole blogging thing was going and why he agreed on it, the past hours still reeling in his mind, Sherlock is alive, he believed that now, he knew that now, no matter how unbelievable it was. Sherlock is alive, out there doing God knows what but he, Sherlock, needed the doctor's help, and for the moment that's what John was happy with, to help that incredible, death-defying man. Although a quarter of him self was still bitter at being kept in the dark for so long but that was slowly diminishing, very slowly.
The kettle whistled, signaling the dirty blond to make his tea and soon he got comfortable in his chair, relaxing and enjoying his drink when he felt a vibration in his pocket. It was a text, from Sherlock, which surprised the doctor.
'What is it that you will break even though you name it?'-SH
'Silence.'-JW
John knew the answer to that, Mycroft also informed him that they, Sherlock and John, would start their texting with riddles, to recognize each other.
'John.'- SH
'Sherlock.'-JW
'Are you at the flat?'-SH
'Yeah, just got home.'-JW
'Did you get clearance on those cold cases?'-SH
The doctor smirked, remembering the earlier events.
'Yes, I did. They're bringing them to the flat in two days.'-JW
'Excellent.'-SH
'The chief superintendent recognized me too, he didn't want to release them.'-JW
'No doubt a call from Mycroft changed his mind.'-SH
'How did you- um, never mind. How are you?'-JW
John furrowed his eyebrows, confused but then thought against his idea.
'Ugh, bored but physically well, more or less.'-SH
'What's that mean?'-JW
'Without you reminding me to eat, I often for go meals; you know how I am.'-SH
'Yeah I know, do you at least remember to eat once in a while?'-JW
'Obviously or we wouldn't be having this conversation right now.'-SH
'…'-JW
'What?'-SH
John could vision the confusion on Sherlock's face, the man was still the same in the aspect of bad timing for certain topics of conversation.
'It's too soon for death jokes Sherlock.'-JW
'Oh, my apologies.'-SH
'That's better.'-JW
'John?'-SH
'Hm?'-JW
'There's something you should know, those case files are nothing without my notes.'-SH
This brought some confusion to the dirty blond.
'Notes? What notes? I've never seen you take notes.'-JW
'I didn't take as much notes when with you around, you were doing that scrapbooking.'-SH
The doctor made a face of a frustrated duck; it wasn't a scrapbook.
'I'll let that go for now, where can I find these notes? Are they in your room?'-JW
'It's your room now, isn't it? Since you've been sleeping in there and yes, they are.'-SH
Although the detective continued to amaze John in knowing that fact, the doctor felt some guilt at that remark.
'Alright, I'll look for them and… it's not like a moved in there, all of your clothes and things are still there, I only sleep in your bed.'-JW
'Oh John, I miss you.'-SH
Well, that was random, pleasant but random.
'I miss you too… a lot.'-JW
'I have a question and feel free to be absolutely blunt about it.'-SH
John gave his phone a skeptical look, wondering where Sherlock was going with this.
'?'-JW
'Can we start where we left off?'-SH
The dirty blond was not expecting that, it kind of surprised him but it was a significant question. Could they pick up where they left off? Granted, the last time before the fall, John remembered being angry with the man until he realized what Sherlock did to distract him. The doctor felt torn, his brain going one way and his heart going another.
'I want to but I'm not to sure how that would work out, with you in hiding and all.'-JW
'That's nothing to fret about, we're texting now and when I can, we can try Skype.'-SH
'When you can? What does that mean?'-JW
'Well, I'm abroad at the moment waiting for my flight, with a borrowed laptop.'-SH
'Oh, huh, good to know that you can travel when ever you like.'-JW
'In disguise John? Don't be ridiculous.'-SH
'Sorry for being ridiculous.'-JW
'I know, but that's part of your charm. So, what do you say?'-SH
'Yeah, I'd like that but you owe me so much.'-JW
'I'll ponder the many ways to make it up to you.'-SH
'I'm not kidding Sherlock, you owe me so much for keeping me in the dark, I was miserable, still kind of am since you're not here with me.'-JW
'I know John, and I'll do my damn best to make it up to you… if it helps, I was suffering too. Although not the same way but I felt horrid for lying to you this long and being away from you, I couldn't take it anymore, I needed to see you and tell you I'm alright.'-SH
John read the text, feeling his heart constrict with some sympathy but smiled softy.
'I'm glad you did.'-JW
'John, another thing before I have to go, my flight's boarding.'-SH
'What's that?'-JW
'The notes are written in a code, you need to decipher it and as much as I want to tell you the code, I know you can appreciate a good challenge.'-SH
And enter the frustrated duck face along with questioning eyebrows, a code to decipher Sherlock's notes?
'What?'-JW
'I'll text you soon.'-SH
'Yeah, I'll be waiting.'-JW
Author's Note: I'm sorry for how long it took me to write this damn chapter, that writer's block was a bitch, but here you go and review if you want.