Promises Series

Promise of Home - Viva La Vida

The title of this chapter is "Viva La Vida" by Coldplay.

Anthea and Julia were in the flat going over Julia's homework. They needed it quiet for a few hours, so Sherlock decided he would stay in Mrs. Hudson's flat as to not disturb them. He was also waiting for John, who would be by soon to type up the case for his blog.

Sherlock wondered if that meant John would be accompanying him on cases from now on. Before, John had been married. He hadn't had the flexibility of being unattached, so it was more difficult for him to find time to run around London on various mysteries. That, and he'd been a little more than furious at Sherlock's sudden reappearance. The detective knew John would eventually forgive him if he hadn't already, and they would eventually get back to where they were before, but that didn't make it any less difficult.

Sherlock still wanted more. He wanted all of John, every piece. He wanted to be the most important person in John's life, and he didn't care if that made him vain or selfish, because John was the most important person in his life – besides Julia, of course.

But John didn't think of Sherlock that way. He did not share Sherlock's feelings for him, but considered him as a friend. Sherlock tried not to be disappointed about this, since he'd known from the moment he met John that the army doctor would never be interested. If John just wanted his friendship, then that's what Sherlock would give him.

Sherlock would give John whatever he asked for, and he would take whatever scraps John decided to throw to him. He knew that if he ever expressed his true feelings for John, he would drive the blond man away. So if it was friendship John wanted, it was a friendship he was going to get, no strings attached.

"Dear, are you feeling all right?" Mrs. Hudson asked, fluttering about her flat, dusting.

"I'm fine."

"You look like you're thinking," she reasoned.

Sherlock sighed. "I'm always thinking, Mrs. Hudson."

"Oh, I know, dear. Your brain is a marvel, isn't it?"

"It's loud, is what it is," Sherlock muttered, scrolling through his email. "I wish it would quiet down for just one minute."

"I know you do." Mrs. Hudson sat down in an armchair across from him. "How's Julia doing with her tutoring?"

"I assume she's doing well. I haven't gotten any reports yet. No complaints."

"Sherlock, dear, you have to ask her yourself."

"Do I really?" he asked uninterestedly.

Mrs. Hudson sighed and shook her head. "Dear, what sort of cake should I bake for Julia's birthday?"

"She likes chocolate," Sherlock replied. "It would be best not to overdo it, though."

"Yes, dear. I know how to make a cake."

John arrived a short while later, and after half an hour of tea and idle chit chat, Sherlock carefully detailed yesterday's case whilst John took notes. He left out all the sentiment, but John could tell he hadn't gotten the whole story.

"That's it," Sherlock insisted. "I deduced the mother was abusive by the girl's cheek and circumference of the cigarette."

"The girl?"

"Lucy," Sherlock answered automatically.

"You don't usually remember their names."

"I knew you would want to write up the case, so I made it a point."