These Days

Love That's Not for Me

"As I said, this won't take long." Sherlock assured once more.
"Oh, I really don't mind." John assured, not really looking Sherlock in the eyes for some reason.
"Why are we going back to school daddy?" Hamish asked, tugging on his father's sleeve impatiently.
"Because me and Mr. Holmes are going to talk." John insisted.
"About what?" Hamish asked.
"Never you mind." John said with a bit of a smile. Sherlock led the two of them back into the school, past the few kids remaining and confused, even disappointed looks flashed by the teachers as they passed. Sherlock was walking rather swiftly, his long legs stretching across the floor to get to the safety and seclusion of his classroom. He knew fully well that John was just a stride behind him, either looking at the classrooms and rubbish art that was decorated around the halls, or he was looking right at Sherlock, in the back of his curly head. Sherlock could only hope it was the latter.
"In here if you will." Sherlock said, opening the door to his classroom and holding it open for the two Watsons to walk into. Sherlock suddenly realized that his desk was a little bit cluttered and that some of the kids had left all their crayons spread out on the desk, he looked like a slob of a teacher, and in front of John!
"I apologize for the mess, hadn't really gotten a chance to tidy up yet." Sherlock muttered, trying awkwardly to stuff some papers messily into a drawer, but John just laughed a little bit as if it were amusing.
"You should see my desk at work." John laughed.
"Oh, yes, you're a construction manager right?" Sherlock asked.
"Yep." John sighed.
"Daddy this is where I sit, see?" Hamish said excitedly, pulling impatiently on his father's sleeve to get his attention.
"There are some blocks in the back I believe, you can go entertain yourself if you'd like, it won't take a moment for us to talk." Sherlock told Hamish, who looked up at his father uncertainly.
"Go on." John insisted, letting the child's hand fall and shooing him to the back of the room. Hamish scurried off, digging through the toy bin that the school insisted Sherlock have there, but he didn't like it. The kids came for work, for knowledge, not for stupid toys or blocks. Sherlock smiled awkwardly at John, who now looked like he was unsure about what to do with himself. Sherlock felt the same way, as if he should go on about the program but then again he'd love to ask John about his day and his life and what he was planning on doing tomorrow night. Just hearing that man talk, even about the stupidest things, it was like a breath of fresh air.
"So, um, the gifted program, yes, here are the papers if you'd like to read over them." Sherlock decided, handing John the organized folder stiffly. John nodded his thanks, perching on one of the small tables and flipping through the information as if he were unsure on what to read and what to read and what not to. Usually Sherlock would yell at someone for sitting on the tables, mostly his students, but John was an exception, god he could spray paint the entire classroom and Sherlock would somehow appreciate it.
"It looks good, ya." John agreed, still looking down at the papers with a confused look. Sherlock was sure he wasn't actually reading or comprehending any of it, but just the fact that he was in the classroom was enough for Sherlock to secretly smile at. He honestly didn't know what to do with himself, should he sit down, walk around, make sure Hamish was okay, ask questions or wait until John was done flipping through?
"So this will be all year then?" John asked.
"Yes." Sherlock agreed.
"And what will they do?" John asked.
"I think it explains there." Sherlock pointed out, nodding to the papers.
"I'd like to hear it out of your mouth." John shrugged. For some reason that made Sherlock's heart absolutely glow.
"Oh, well, there are some academic activities, team building activities, brain teasers, and different levels of classes that are fit for their student's individual needs. It's a great program for someone like Hamish." Sherlock assured.
"I'm sure it is, I'll just see what Mary will say, she's a bit particular about the programs we put Hamish in, she's the one that chose this school and all." John sighed.
"Do you not like it here?" Sherlock asked.
"No, the education's fine, everything's perfectly fine here, I'm glad she picked in truthfully." John admitted.
"And why would that be?" Sherlock asked, tipping his head slightly in hopes that his curls would fall in front of his forehead. And, as promised, he saw maybe the slightest glance of John's hazel eyes flick to his forehead and back down to his eyes as if nothing had happened.
"No reason." John said quickly. There was a small pause in which the two of them started looking everywhere but at each other, Sherlock could feel his cheeks slowly heating up for some reason, as if he had some way embarrassed himself without realizing it. But he could almost feel the sneaking glances cast by John, looking at him and away as quickly as possible.
"So, I'll call Mary quick and ask about it." John decided, breaking the awkward silence and pulling his phone out of his pocket. Oh yes, Mary, the Mary, his Mary. There was nothing like breaking an awkward silence with mention of your stupid wife. The very name was like venom in Sherlock's soul, and he just didn't know why. She hadn't been mean to him in the conference, she hadn't done anything wrong at all, but just the thought...it sent an uncomfortable shiver down Sherlock's spine.
"Hello?" asked a sweet voice on the other line.
"Yes, honey, I'm putting you on speaker." John decided, holding out the phone and pressing the speaker button. "Okay, hello." John said.
"Hello dear, where are you?" Mary asked, her horrible now slightly robotic voice filling up the classroom.
"Is that Mommy?" Hamish called from the back, accidently making his block tower fall to the ground.
"Um, well actually I'm at Hamish's school, talking to his teacher." John explained.
"Hello Mrs. Watson." Sherlock said, the words stinging his lips as they passed.
"Oh, hello Mr. Holmes." Her voice sounded apprehensive, as if she disliked him as well. "What is this about?"
"You know that gifted program I was talking to you about?" John asked.
"Oh, yes, you told me about it the other night, right?" Mary asked.
"Yes, I did, but we were just discussing it and I really think it looks like something Hamish would be interested in." John insisted.
"It's a very good program I assure you, it focuses on more individual learning experiences to better enhance his understanding of the topic." Sherlock added.
"Well that was right out of a textbook wasn't it?" John joked. Sherlock saw his smile and it was almost contagious, a small grin appearing on Sherlock's face as well.
"More like the bundle of papers you're holding." Sherlock admitted.
"But there is a fee; it's only twenty dollars a year." John pointed out.
"That's fine; money isn't an issue when it comes to Hamish's education." Mary assured. John glanced up at Sherlock with a sort of 'told you' glance.
"So it works?" John asked.
"It's fine with me." Mary assured. Sherlock nodded, resting his elbow on his crossed arm and propping his chin up with his fist. It made him look like he was thinking about actual matters and not of the blonde hair in front of him, slightly matted down with sweat, obviously from some sort of construction hard hat.
"Excellent, I'll just need you to sign some forms and then Hamish will be able to take the test after school some time." Sherlock decided, going over to his desk where he had already set some papers in wait. He had thought the Watsons would go for it, so he printed them out, not wanting to look like a slacker in front of John.
"How long will the test take?" John asked.
"Oh, well it depends on Hamish's test taking skills and strategy, but no more than an hour." Sherlock assured. John nodded, looking down at the now silent phone.
"Is that all?" asked Mary.
"Yes, that's all, thank you dear." John agreed.
"Okay, dinner's on the table already, love you." Mary decided.
"Love you too." John agreed, like a dagger through Sherlock's heart.
"Bye." The phone clicked and then when silent. John stuffed the phone back into his pocket and then sighed, sitting once again on one of the desks and tapping his work boot clad feet on the tiles.
"So when will this test be?" John asked.
"Whenever is convent, we could set a date or you could just pop in when you're picking Hamish up to say a date that would work." Sherlock assured.
"Should I just email you or something?" John asked. Sherlock sighed, was he asking for an email address? Pathetic, he knew, but it was one step closer to communicating even more with him.
"Oh, if you'd like, the email's on the website unless you just want me to write it down..." Sherlock held up his finger for a moment and then ran over to his desk, scribbling his school email address down onto a sticky note and handing it to John. John took it, his arm slightly bumping the globe, almost making it shake off of the desk.
"Well, um, you certainly rock my world." Sherlock muttered, almost to himself, but John just chuckled as Sherlock put it back onto the desk. Sherlock smiled shyly and sat back in his desk chair, clicking the pen he was holding over and over.
"So, ya, I'll email you a date that works." John decided.
"Brilliant, and you can always back out if you need, but don't be a stranger, if you have any questions about anything really you know how to reach me." Sherlock insisted, waving his hand a little bit but feeling kind of pushy. It really felt like he was pressuring John into too much at the moment, he was a man, not just someone who talked for amusement; he had a life as well.
"That would work, thank you for taking the time, I'm sure you have a busy schedule and all, a family to get back home to..." John said. Sherlock just chuckled, shaking his head.
"I'm a lone ranger." Sherlock assured with a little laugh. John nodded, a little smile on his lips as if he were unsure what to do with that information.
"Alright, well, thanks again, Hamish are you ready?" John called.
"Daddy, come look at my castle!" Hamish said excitedly.
"Wow, that's pretty neat." John decided.
"Come here and look at it!" Hamish insisted.
"I can see it fine from here, but we don't want to inconvenience Mr. Holmes and I think mommy made chicken for dinner." John pointed out.
"I don't like chicken, I want to stay here." Hamish complained.
"Come on Hamish." John insisted. Hamish just groaned, but started stacking the blocks back into the big bin.
"Have a nice night Mr. Watson, and I'll see you tomorrow Hamish." Sherlock insisted, smiling at John in farewell, clicking the pen faster and faster in his hands without noticing it. John led Hamish, who had come back from the corner, out the door, the two of them talking quietly to each other and closing the door politely behind them. Sherlock took a huge breath, noticing now that during the entire visit he had almost been holding his breath, as if anticipating something. What was going on, what was he doing, what was he feeling? Sherlock had never felt this pathetic, so weak and vulnerable in front of anyone. He knew John wouldn't hurt him, of course he wouldn't, but Sherlock knew that if there were anything, anything at all, that John needed, whether to reach something on a high shelf or jump off a bloody building, Sherlock would do it without hesitation. He was being pulled around on an invisible leash, made of John's beautiful smile and his golden hair and his soldier like posture and his gentleness; it would be the death of Sherlock one day.