A/N: Hello, people!
I don't own Sherlock.
I have no beta.
ENJOY!
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-A little humor and John's naked butt.
4 December 2015, Friday:
Sherlock and John did not make it back to Baker Street until the wee hours of the next morning. John was barely making it around with the post case high and Sherlock was trying to think of what he could do to butter John up to him.
He decided to make John some tea. When things went wrong, John always went for tea to calm down and feel better. And Sherlock never made the tea so it would be like a gift.
He presented the cup to the blond after coming from the shower and John smiled warmly at him, taking it and sipping every few seconds.
They spent several minutes just milling about, letting the adrenaline from the case wear off. John was typing his blog at exactly two and a half times the speed he usually typed at and Sherlock was playing his violin. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Within minutes, the sound of John editing what he typed, filled the room. Then he pressed ENTER and closed everything down. He bade Sherlock a good morning, taking his cup into the kitchen on his way to bed.
Sherlock waited a moment, before flipping John's laptop up and turning it on. The password took seven tries this time - impressive John, you're learning - and ended up being 'WSherlockSHolmes'. He had to stop and think on where John could have possibly learned his full name from since Sherlock most definitely did not go around advertising it.
When no answers were forthcoming he proceeded to his task, saving the thought for later.
THE BLOG OF JOHN H. WATSON.
3 DEC,
I know it's a day late, sorry. I don't have a name for this case, I'm sorry for that as well.
It isn't something I can put into words and I would rather not give anyone the imagery
of what I have seen.
In Sherlock's line of work, we end up seeing a great many disturbing things. This was
one of them. Though it was also the first time necrophilia was added to the equation.
As such, I will not be going into detail over what exactly happened.
Instead, I will focus on Sherlock.
He has changed in the time I have known him. Going on two years now, I believe. The
day I met him, he had actually questioned why a woman would think of her stillborn
child of fourteen years prior, in her dying moments. Yet today, he had perfectly put
emotional analysis into practice and understood the motives of the killer easily.
I distinctly remember a time when Sherlock scoffed at the thought of friendship and
sentiment. His brother even once told him that 'caring is not an advantage'. Though
Sherlock rarely listens to his brother's advice, and only when it benefits him, or he's
experiencing those rare moments of acknowledging the fact that said brother knows
more about the situation than he does. But as I said, those moments are rare.
Sherlock has changed in other ways too. He even made me tea and it was very well
made. I think he deliberately doesn't do certain things so that when he deigns to do
them, the meaning behind them is special and important.
Occasionally, he takes out the rubbish and I know it's him because Mrs. Hudson can't
carry that much weight down the stairs. He cleans off a part of the kitchen table for
me to eat at. He even stopped bringing severed heads into the flat when I am around.
Only brings them in on the days I'm visiting Harry.
I was really able witness the leaps and bounds Sherlock has come through today and
I can proudly say that I'm glad he's my friend and that I have the privilege of seeing
these moments of growth in his life.
If only others could see what I see.
Yours faithfully,
John H. Watson.
Sherlock stared for a good moment, overcome with slight emotion. John really knew how to tug on the heartstrings, even when his grammar was terrible and his prose was far too purple for Sherlock's liking.
He also did talk about Sherlock a lot. Probably more than he realised.
It made Sherlock feel… warm. Someone paid enough positive attention to him to notice these things about him.
His phone vibrated and he pulled it out, seeing that it was six in the morning.
Time to see the next two photos.
Shutting down the laptop and placing it back on the table beside John's chosen chair, Sherlock made his way to his room in a completely not hurried fashion.
Closing himself inside, he searched for the number 3 because he had missed his opportunity the former day as he and John had set off so early for the case. Once found, he tugged on the small, red ribbon that kept the two sides of the small gift, closed.
It was the John from the last photo except this time, his trousers were also ripped in many places. From what Sherlock could tell, John wasn't wearing pants beneath them, leaving tanned skin to peek through the holes.
Tanned. John's hipbones and thighs were tanned.
Either John had sunbathed while completely nude, or he had a speedo.
Either thought was tempting and Sherlock peered much more closely.
He wondered if the next photograph would show John's behind.
He found the number 4 and pulled the little top off, coming face to arse with John's tanned backside. The seat of his trousers just so happened to be totally shredded, revealing what lay beneath. The skin there as dark as the rest of his skin.
Sherlock was already salivating.
By the time John awoke to grace the living world with his presence, he found Sherlock in the kitchen, working on a new experiment, though this one had nothing to do with fungus or body parts. It was simple Chemistry on action and reactions.
Sherlock watched him over the lens of his microscope, wondering what his first action would be. Realise that Sherlock went out and purchased him some Thai for lunch, because he had slept all through breakfast, or drink the tea already set for him?
John noticed both and smiled at Sherlock, thanking him softly as he went to check his blog.
"Sherlock, the counter seems to have fixed itself!"
"Hm?"
"The blog has gone up to 5,923 since I went to bed."
That… was a lot of people for a small-time blogger.
"5,926 now."
A lot of people.
"And there are sixty-seven comments so far and only one of each from Mrs. Hudson, Harry, Mike, and Greg."
Greg?
"That's Lestrade," explained John without verbal prompting.
Oh.
Did he say that out loud?
"I just know the way you think."
Oh.
A/N: Another is done!
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CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON.