June 21, 2005
Sherlock's POV
He spends the time between when he went with John and Jim to deal with the homeless and when he is supposed to see John against staying in his room for the most part. The only time he has left his room is to eat meals in the kitchen because he is avoiding eating with Mycroft. Right now he doesn't want to be made to feel like trash over the fact he tried to get outside of his comfort zone.
Tuesday he takes care after showering, making sure that he looks his best and is ready to go when Jim comes to tell him that it's time to go to the clinic. Hopefully John hasn't changed his mind about wanting to see him. That would be horrible.
-Ready?- the agent queries as he appears in the door.
He nods, his nerves spiking as he turns to head towards the door. A moment of panic has him stopping just before he steps through it, freezing in place as every muscle in his body grows rigid. What if John is only seeing him because he has to?
"Sherlock," the soft voice of the smaller genius brushes against his mind, drawing his focus. -John likes seeing you. He probably was busy for the last two days which is why we are going to see him today. I am certain he is looking forward to seeing you.-
He blinks, nodding slowly, tongue flicking out to trace his dry lips. Jim's a genius like he is, he'd know whether John wants to see him or not.
-Better?- the dark-haired agent inquires.
He nods again, hand flickering for a moment, -Yes,- briefly pausing, -Thank you.-
Smiling, Jim replies, -You don't need to thank me, you would have figured it out yourself as soon as we get there, but I figured you'd prefer to be calm when we get there.-
He nods again, a small smile curved his lips as he heads through the house and out to the car. The ride to the clinic is quiet, Jim is the only person in the back of the car with him. When they get there, it is close to closing for the clinic and the nurse takes him directly back, waving his companion over to one of the chairs in the waiting room.
-Good afternoon, Sherlock.- John greets him as he enters the office, a warm and open smile spread across his face.
-Hello John,- he replies, biting his lip nervously.
-I'm happy you were able to make it,- the blonde remarks, -I was thinking yesterday and wanted to ask if you would like to eat dinner with me one of these nights and I can make dinner.-
He spends several moments standing in the door blinking at the smaller man as he processes that question. Finally he nods slowly, -Yes.-
-Perfect! We'll make arrangements when we are done this evening. I have requested that Chinese be delivered at six pm.- the doctor remarks as he settles back into his seat and waits for him to do the same.
He settles into the chair, glancing about the room to see if there have been any changes. Three, his mind provides, there are three things different. John has a new keyboard, there is a new book, and there is a new pen holder.
For a while they sit in companionable silence as John works and he just relaxes. Enjoying the peace and quiet, that he can just be without feeling like he has to speak or fill the silence with noise.
Eventually he gets the nerve together to ask, -Do you like music?-
The doctor finishes typing the sentence he is on, before replying, -I do. One of my favorite past-times is feeling music.-
Again he licks his lips before stealing himself to ask, -Ever listen to harps, violins, flutes, or cellos?-
Tilting his head, the blonde thinks about it for a bit. -I've felt violin and cello music before, they can be quite nice.-
Again there is quiet for several minutes while he considers that before finally commenting, -I play both. Can I…- he trails off, eyes staring off into the distance. -Would you mind if…- again he trails off. -May I play for you?-
John smiles at him encouragingly, waiting for him to complete his thought and not trying to rush him.
-I'd enjoy that,- the doctor responds, still smiling warmly.
Conversation stops again, peaceful silence and stillness filling the air around them.
He never actually finished thinking about why John has the effect he has, so maybe he should consider that? No, not a good idea to do while the doctor is sitting right before him. The doctor might not have the same type of intelligence as him, Mycroft, or Jim but he is still intelligent. Often surprising him with insight and praise.
Their peace is broken by one of the nurses bringing in a tray full of food before retreating. They share a relaxing meal.
-Here,- he suddenly states, pulling the papers he had compiled out of his challenges and thrusting them at John.
The doctor accepts them, straightening them out and looking them over. -These are very detailed. Have you given a set to Jim yet?-
Blinking, he remembers that the agent is the one who challenged him. -Not yet,- he slowly answers.
-I can give them to him if you'd like?- John offers reassuringly.
He shakes his head slightly, -No, I'll do it.-
A crooked, pleased smile curves the doctor's lips, -You've made a lot of progress in the week we've been seeing each other.-
Blinking, he stares at the blonde in shock. It's only been a week? It feels like it's been so much longer. How has it only been a week? It probably feels longer because they have spent hours together each time they visit rather than just one or two the way his rehab doctor did. But then, his rehab doctor kept trying to force him to talk, John hasn't. The only reason he's felt comfortable enough to talk using sign language is the fact no one is trying to force him. At least, not now. Mycroft tried during that dreadful dinner but hasn't since. Thankfully sounds have been kept to a minimum, the only exception to that was when they had went to speak with John's homeless people and that couple who argued, which wasn't John or Jim's fault.
Blinking hard, he realizes that nearly half an hour has passed. That's alright though, John doesn't seem to mind and is working on something else.
-John?- he queries hesitantly.
-Yes, Sherlock?- the doctor replies.
-Why do you do that for the homeless?- he asks slowly, taking several minutes to ask something that should take less than one.
A thoughtful expression fills the blonde's eyes, -Someone needs to. There are a lot of reasons a homeless person might not seek medical aid.-
He nods, trying to think of those reasons and lightly drumming his fingers on the desk between them. When the doctor passes him a note pad and pen, he chuckles.
-Why don't you try to think of all the reasons a homeless person might not seek medical attention?- John suggests, -You can write them down.-
Nodding, he stares at the paper for a little bit before starting to write. He takes his time, making sure that everything is neat and orderly so John can easily read his answers.
While he does that, the doctor works on his computer, typing up something though he doesn't know what.
-Can the reasons also be ones that people with homes might have?- he asks absently, barely noticing until he goes to pick his pen back up, a blush coloring his face.
-Of course,- John answers, -any reason you can think of can be added.-
Returning to his paper, he adds the other reasons that he can think of, taking his time to consider each before writing it down. He ends up with eight answers to the question, with several more that he is tentatively writing down as well since they could be considered part of the first eight or separate.
Pushing the paper towards John, he sets the pen down and waits to see what the doctor's reaction will be.
-That's really good Sherlock,- the blonde praises, -You have nice handwriting.-
He blushes again, ducking his head and smiling shyly.
-You're doing really good at understanding people's motives and reasoning,- the doctor tells him. -There are people who are older and do that for a living who don't even manage as well as you've been doing.- Smiling warmly, John states, -That's great, and proves that your mind is just playing tricks on you when start feeling like you're slow. You're brilliant.-
Keeping his head down, his shy smile grows just a little, filling him with pleasure and warmth. From what he can see, John is completely serious and means every word that he says.
Maybe, he thinks, just maybe I am better than I think. Both John and Jim seem to think so, they can't both be wrong.
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