Coffee

Chapter 5

Days passed, and John didn't see anything, nor hear a word from Sherlock. Needless to say, he was somewhat pissed off. He'd been told that Sherlock liked the whole name game; they'd even tried to hook up the same people! John had literally put himself in between Sherlock and a guy who looked like he could quite easily take him out in one punch, and how had Sherlock replayed him? By leaving. What a joke.

On the following Friday evening, John bumped into Greg. Or rather, Greg worked his way into Coffee Co. while it wasn't busy, and John had taken up another shift. By this stage, Greg had acquired Molly's number but was still tentative about calling. His whole fearfulness over the situation made John want to be sick, and maybe also shout at him until his voice went.

"I just... I dunno. She gave me her number and I gave her mine, but that was two days ago. Should I text her now?" John rolled his eyes as he continued to clean the counter. "But anyway," Greg continued, launching into a new topic of conversation. "I bet it's been quiet around here, what with no Sherlock to tease."

At this, John looked up.

"What do you mean?" He quizzed, putting down the tea towel. Greg looked confused.

"He hasn't been in all week. I think he might have the flu or something." Greg took another swig of his coffee (he'd now gone for one that cost £2.50), and stretched. "Anyway," he glanced at his watch, unaware of the overwhelming scenes and scenarios rattling through John's head. "What time does this place shut?"

'He hasn't been to college, so that means he's not avoiding me. But why would he not go to college? What if Victor has done something to him? What if-'

"John?" Greg asked, frowning. John immediately snapped out of his mental question frenzy.

"Sorry. Urm, half an hour? I've got to shut up tonight, so I'll probably leave a bit later than that."

"Alright," Greg nodded. Suddenly, a smile split across his mouth as he pulled out his phone, but it died in an instant. "Shit... Can I borrow your phone? Mine's dead."

Shrugging, John retreated to the back room and acquired his phone, before handing it over to Greg. "What do you want it for?" He asked, watching as Greg typed a number in.

"Telling Molly that I'm going to pick her up in half an hour," Greg told him, grinning down at John's phone. He sent it, and handed the mobile back over. John stuffed it into his pocket, jealously coursing through him. At least he had the person he liked' number.

"Thanks," he took one last swig from his cup before flashing John a smile. "Talk to you tomorrow? You're coming to that party, yeah?" John nodded quickly as Greg pulled open the door and left.

The silence was deafening. Over the doorway, the bell seemed to have been muffled as it rung dully from Greg's departure.

As evening rolled into night, the whole atmosphere changed. Maybe because he was the only one in there, but more likely because the machines were off.

Deciding that he had nothing else better to do, John began to clear away several of the tables, and rearranging the chairs from when people had moved them during the day. As he passed, he flicked on the grammar phone just so as to break the silence. Carefully selecting a vinyl disc and placing it gently down in the record player, he listened to the soothing crackle start up, before settling once again into his cleaning routine.

However, his apparent solitude didn't last for long as he felt his phone go off in his pocket. Leaning his mop against the table, he unlocked it.

It was a simple, one worded text from a number that wasn't saved into his phone.