An Unsoluble Soulmate // Johnlock

The One and Only Sherlock

After arriving home from a long day of deducing Lastrade's case ( it was OBVIOUSLY the butler) Sherlock decided it was an appropriate time to start deducing about his soulmate.

He strode over to the mantelpiece and plucked down his one and only friend, Mozart the skull, to set him on the table. Then he plopped down onto the couch, eyes closed and fingers resting on his chin.

Given that he didn't have any other information about his soulmate besides his name and therefore gender, there wasn't much to informatively infer. Though the one thing he could tell without a doubt was that this💞John          had absolutely no interest in meeting him. At least not anytime soon.

There were certainly not very many Sherlocks in the world, if any. It wouldn't be particularly hard to find him if any effort was being made. Then again, Sherlock's view of simplicity often differed from the average man's.

He stood suddenly from his seat, the answer already found, though it was not one he took pleasure in finding. Sherlock was not average, nor was his brother ; who practically, nay, undoubtedly owned the British government.

He would need to ask help from Mycroft if he actually wanted to meet this man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John Watson was very uncomfortable to say the least as he sat on his bed, finger hovering over his sisters number.

Harry was not someone he enjoyed having light chats with, let alone deep discussions about his love life. However she was his only... queer...acquaintance.

After nearly an hour in of debating, he finally dialed his sister. "Harry?"

"John. We haven't spoken in a while. Are Mum and Dad alright?"

"What? Yes. Of course, yes. Um, I had a... question?"

He could practically hear her eyebrows furrow through the mobile.

"It's about my-  soulmate" he sighed.

Now, as the people John associated with so often do, Harry had a wonderful selection of deeply untapped intellectual prowess and therefore caught on, much to John's chagrin, very quickly.

"What's his name. I'm sure it won't take long to find him, no problem"

"There is a problem!"

...

"I'm not gay!"

She laughed. Laughed! And that's when John harshly hung up the phone.

He stood and quickly grabbed his jacket. He very much needed a tea, and his flat was once again out of milk.

   ⏮ le time skip ⏭

John's soft dress shoes pitter-pattered down the rough cobblestone road to his favorite cafe, a simple little shop right next to a group of flats.

He slipped open the glass door and made his way inside. Not until of course he held said door open for the two men entering behind him, a tall bloke in a giant coat and a wider-set man with a black umbrella. This struck John as a little odd because of the perfectly sunny weather, but he supposed he was too busy having an existential crisis that morning to check the forecast.

After entering, he made his way to the line behind the two men and waiting patiently for his daily dose of caffeine, which was currently much needed. After they had ordered he stepped up to the counter.

"One earl grey with milk please."

"Name?" The cashier asked.

"John"

He payed for his tea and went to take a seat in the far right corner. The cashier was very pretty, and normal he would've given her his number, but due to recent events...  he figured that might not be the best course of action.

He set his elbow upon the table and rested his head on his hand as he waited for his name to be called. After a few minutes he zoned out a bit, turning to his own thoughts. That is until-

"Sherlock?"

The man in the mysterious trench coat went up to collect his black tea. John looked on in shock.