It Seemed Logical

Chapter 3

To that argument, John certainly had no answer. He dropped his head and held it between his hands in frustration, beneath the tight scrutiny of Sherlock's eyes.

"I fail to understand." The detective's voice filled the silence. "Our lives haven't changed even slightly: everything is still the same, but with the guarantee that it will last a joyously long amount of time."

John sighed again, louder this time, and didn't even bother to lift up his head to address the man before him.
"There has to be space somewhere in that crazy brain of yours to remember that it is expected nowadays for people to get married only if they love each other. Marriage for convenience died out long ago, your knowledge of history can confirm that, I'm sure."

"Love?" Asked Sherlock, the word sounding terribly foreign to his lips. "I appreciate your companionship." He simply stated, as if that was all that was needed.

"Yes, yes, I like being your friend too, that's hardly the point." John waved a hand, dismissing Sherlock's argument, as he sat straight again, fingers returning to his temples. "So you just expect me to never see anyone again?"

"Not anyone, John, it is impossible to go outside the flat and do our job without even glaring at another human being-"

"You know what I mean!"

"It would be inappropriate and disrespectful, yes."

"How 'inappropriate' and 'disrespectful'" John mocked Sherlock's words, showing inverted commas with his hands as he spoke "would it be, then, to marry someone without their consent?" He had snapped, and he had hurt his friend in the process, he realised, glancing at Sherlock's disappointed face.

In response, he merely murmured "I apologize" hurriedly, and went on to add, a little louder and slower "it's barely my fault you weren't here to listen for me for the first time and actually object beforehand."

Tired of trying to knock some sense into Sherlock's brilliant-yet-oblivious mind, John decided to end the discussion and skip to the only part that mattered to him. "How long until we can get it annulled? Can you speak to Mycroft to do it quicker?"

The doctor saw a tiny glimpse of sadness seep into his friend's eyes, like any other time he had faced failure, be it with an unresolved case or an unsuccessful experiment. John began to feel guilty and was about to apologise when he realised he had every right to be cross at Sherlock, it was him who had caused the problem in the first place, getting them married and all with ridiculous pretexts.

Trying to sound simpathetic, John broke the silence once more. "Please understand my position, Sherlock. If people gossiped before about us imagine now that-"

"Oh! So THAT'S your problem, eh John? You can't stand them saying we're 'together' because you are repelled by the mere though of being with me!" At this point, Sherlock just sounded like a distressed teenage girl blaming her boyfriend for her problems, but John refrained himself from saying his thoughts out loud so as not to anger his friend further. Instead he rolled his eyes and attempted to explain himself.

"I am not repelled by you, but neither do I see you as anything more than a friend - my best friend actually." He added hoping that the statement would please Sherlock and make him realise that he didn't want to pick a fight with him.

As if weighing his chances with a new plan, the detective didn't move or say anything for a few seconds, thinking, and then looked at John with a determined glint in his eyes.

"Alright, I didn't want it to come to this, my dear John, but it seems like you have left me no other option. Get up."

Rather unnerved by Sherlock's threat (if one could call it that), John did as he was told, and the detective stood up after him. The armchairs had been quite close, so there was barely a yard between the two. Not moving his eyes from John's or even blinking, Sherlock arched his back, until their faces were levelled, and then he used his hand to take John's right wrist.

They stood like that for a while, as the detective scrutinised his friend's face, until he sensed his discomfort in this sudden invasion of personal space. John coughed to break the seemingly awkward silence, yet continued to stare into Sherlock's eyes, lost in thought for a moment. The detective's deep voice snapped him right back, as he had suddenly began to speak, now standing back straight and towering over him.

"You see, John, one of the best things about my skills is that, over years of use, I have affectively managed to deduce things - thoughts, opinions - about people that they didn't seem to even know themselves, or were too afraid to admit, although it's usually the former. Now, in this little experiment" he waved a hand around them, referring to the 'staring contest' they had just had "I have been able to confirm several theories about you."

It was at this moment John realised Sherlock had not let go of his wrist, but rather slid the grip downwards to hold his hand. As foreign as it seemed, he did not dare move, judging the situation delicate enough on its own.

Oblivious to John's trail of thought, Sherlock continued on, rather proudly. "As I said before, you constantly risk your life for me, you chose my company over that of your sexual partners, and, as much as it pains me to admit my flaws, you have managed to stick by me with an abnormally short amount of complaints." At this point, Sherlock smiled one of his rare, genuine smiles, and John could do nothing but to smile as well, although he really had no idea of where this deduction was going. Noticing his friend's grin, Sherlock continued.

"What I have just done is merely a test to see what you are feeling, because feelings can be measured, John, it's simple chemistry in our brains, and I have come to the following conclusion: you, John Hamish Watson, have feelings for me, Sherlock Holmes." He said solemnly, proud of his accomplishment.