The Man In Purple Pants (Johnlock)

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My first Johnlock, just showing a completely different way on how they may have met. The first line and the questions in between John's speech are his psychologist. (John is the narrator) Thank you all, read on! ^_~"

“So, tell me how it happened from the beginning.”

         “I’ll do my best. It was a few months ago. Maybe five or six. I was working at my office as usual, working on mediocre cases. I don’t even recall the case, maybe one of those when a 15 year old finds a way to steal from the candy machine with a plastic coin. It was a normal day, the smell of coffee and morning tea was in the air, and my boss, Inspector Lestrade, was firing another of my colleagues, something usual. People were fired every day at the office, to give room to new youngsters. It was starting to feel like a kindergarten, to me.

         I had been working in the same post for over 8 years, never fired, never promoted. It was like Inspector Lestrade really hated me. Or really liked me, I was never sure. We had a pretty good relationship, although we are very different. He is a brilliant worker, around his 40’s or early 50's. He has become a bit fatter in the last few years, and was always accompanied by Andersen, my most annoying colleague.

      The next thing I hear was the head office phone ringing. Someone picked it up (it was Inspector Lestrade, I would find out later). He talked for about two minutes, and so far everything was going normally. But then he ran to the microphone and at that time, everyone heard: “Attention everyone, come to the head office as fast as you can! We have a new case!”  His voice sounded worried, so we all rushed into the office. When I got there, I pushed past people and went next to him. For once in his life he was scared, really scared.

          “People, I received a phone call. My mother. It seems like she is...”-then he stopped for a second, probably trying to contain his tears-”She’s locked somewhere.”

          At this time everyone made the usual questions: “Where?” , “Who put her there?” or even “Am I going to investigate this?”. Lestrade just replayed the phone call. It was something like; she was inside a wardrobe, couldn't manage to get out, it was dark and small, a man has placed her there, a kind of kidnap. She doesn’t know who he was. Was he a criminal? Psychopath? or actually someone related to her? It seemed like she had got her phone out of her pocket and managed to call. A great achievement for an old lady, I can assure you.

          Lestrade then dismissed everyone, and before I could get away, he said something like: “John, I’m going to give you this case”. I remember being really proud about that, who wouldn't? After all, all those years had passed and my job hadn't changed one bit, like I wasn't worth to do better. So that was my big moment, my big opportunity to show Lestrade that I'm better than that. But then: “You are going to help our new detective, Sir Sherlock Holmes.” My heart sunk. I didn't know who this man was, i didn’t expect to the be “helper” or “sidekick”. But maybe I would work better with someone on my side, but after the war I didn't know how I felt about group work anymore. He then took me inside an office, and I met him.”

          “Okay John, and what was your first impression of the man?”

          “Well, he was certainly younger than me. Had light blue eyes, was pretty taller than me, but that isn’t hard. He was wearing a suit and extravagant shoes, I didn’t know him from anywhere. And then he spoke: “Nice to meet you, Doctor Watson. I’ll be glad to work with you.” I’ll never forget that sentence, he said it like he meant it, like he was willing to work with me even though he never met me before. He didn't make eye contact for long, as he went back on reading a paper he had in his hands, but those couple of seconds made my day, or maybe even my week. This had been the most human contact I had had for long, and it was great. Plus, he had the deepest British voice ever heard, it sounded amazing, probably from the south of England but I never knew.

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          Let’s say this was my first “big case”. You wouldn’t expect a lady stuck in a closet to be very challenging, nor did I, until i started investigating. First, trying to trace the call. Unsuccessful. Why? Well her phone was no iPhone4S or Samsung Galaxy SIII, it was an old Nokia. That phone is about 8 or 9 years old, (according to Lestrade) and would probably live another 20. Bricks, those guys are. Then, somehow the call didn’t direct to anywhere, so first try, failed. We needed to find another way.

          Working with Sherlock wasn’t easy. He gave a bunch of virtually impossible ideas and made them look easy. But actually those ideas worked, somehow. He was able to deduce anything just by look, smell or touch. It was unbelievable really, he was a true genius. I couldn't say the same thing about Anderson though, Sherlock and him did not get along well, as I imagined. He is very nosy and a know-it-all basically.

          We asked Lestrade where his mother lived, got some policemen and left immediately. No time could be wasted here.”

          “Why didn't you try and call the lady?”

          “Oh Lestrade kept doing that. Well, that and crying. No result though. Anyway, after reaching the house we looked everywhere, all wardrobes, all cabinets, everything. It was kind of late now, around 9pm, so we all dismissed and went home, exhausted. The next day we decided to ask Lestrade a few questions, the usual ones, I guess. Where she would be on a Monday afternoon, for example. There is this pastry shop where she would usually go called “The Red Cat”. She and Lestrade’s father met there. It was a nice place, so we thought to go there next. But then, a letter. Yes, a HANDWRITTEN letter. Whoever sent this, was probably the last person in England to actually do it. Now this was when the confusion came. He went to the office and got the letter. One minute later he came running into the entrance where we were. The paper said:

You have two days,

Come get your mum.

When you were kids,

You had here much fun.

          One thing we knew now for sure, the person in charge of this crime made terrible poems. But after receiveing that, we went everywhere, no seriously. He sent us the the old candy shop, the skating on ice place, and even to a supermarket. God knows what kind of fun he had in there. He didn’t know anywhere else, so I asked him to read the letter again and to give me the paper for fingerprint investigation. While he was casually giving me the paper, Andersen removed it from my hand, ripped the paper in half  and put it inside a close-by garbage bin. Now I totally freaked out, I got him by his stupid coat collar and screamed at him like I never did to anyone else. Police stopped me here, obviously. But I just felt like removing his eyeballs, and cooking them with Mexican sauce. But then, mister I’mSoCleverIKnowEverything, said like nothing happened, “Oh, no worries i know the letter my heart!”. “

          “And did he, doctor Watson?”

          “Yes! But that didn’t solve anything really. We could have gotten very important information from there. Sherlock was furious "And who do you think you are Anderson I memorized that poem the first time I read it so you better start pulling yourself together you little ignorant". I loved that he agreed with me, we where getting along pretty well. But after all, Lestrade remembered the theme park. Which was where we went next."

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 16, 2013 ⏰

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