My Doctor, Watson

Chapter VI

"When do I leave?" John asked his army recruiter.

"Noon tomorrow, we will send our officers to come pick you up." Commander Sholto said. They discussed the situation but it didn't last long. John said his goodbye's and hung up. He walked back to Sherlock inside, knowing each step closer to him was another one farther away.

John was expecting this call for some time now. He knew it would happen, and he did volunteer for it. Still, now that it was actually happening, John couldn't help but feel sorry for Sherlock. John was just leaving him, alone. Although he didn't think Sherlock would mind. He enjoys being alone. He didn't need John.

John approached the table and looked at Sherlock, a grin spread across the detective's face. His black hair was perfectly groomed. John wondered how someone who did absolutely nothing to look good, still looked so much better than he ever would. The worst part was that he didn't know.

"Are you alright, John? You look.. distant." Sherlock asked.

"Yeah, i'm fine."

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John and Sherlock finished up eating and arrived back in Baker St a few hours later. It would've taken shorter, but Sherlock and John sat there bickering and arguing over who should pay the bill, which included several glasses of champagne and some dessert they split afterwards. By the time they got home, it was already dark.

They stumbled in, a little intoxicated, and went up to their rooms. When they got to the living room, Sherlock stared off into the distance and then turned to John and smiled.

"Would you like to take this dance, my dear Watson?" Sherlock asked offering his hand. John couldn't help but grin as he took Sherlock's hand and allowed him to lead.

"Music!" Sherlock yelled and bounded over to a tiny music player. A sweet melody filled the air. The sharp notes of the delicate violin always got to John. It was beautiful. Sherlock walked back over and they took each others hand. Aside from the occasional stepping on each others foot, they did pretty well.

"Did you compose this?" John asked, placing his head on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Yes. I've been meaning to give it to you. I know how you enjoy my music. Do you like it?" Sherlock responded, his voice low in a whisper right in John's ear.

John was dumbfounded. Sherlock, the mysterious man with no friends and no feelings composed an album, just for him.

"T-thank you.." John muttered. "How did you even have time to compose this?"

"I've been working on this since we met. Since.. It doesn't matter. But I wanted to give you a gift before it was too late."

"Too late? For what?" John asked, but he knew the answer. How could he be so stupid, to keep this from Sherlock Holmes? How could he possibly think he could keep something this big from the world's first consulting detective?

"Nothing." Sherlock mumbled. They danced for a few more minutes but then decided it was getting late and decided to go to bed. Sherlock fell on the couch and was knocked out within a number on minutes. John turned all of the appliances off and went into his room to sleep.

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John woke up when a pair of hands covered over his mouth, while another pair picked him up and dragged him out of the bed. John tried to scream and kick, but his short legs didn't help in the situation. The kidnappers let him walk, but they covered over his mouth and kept his arms locked behind his back.