These Days

The Third Wheel is the Worst Wheel

"Well look at the time." John grumbled, checking his watch. Sherlock nodded, going on to grade one of the last couple of papers.
"Is Mary expecting you?" Sherlock asked.
"No, but tonight we have some stupid dinner reservation." John sighed.
"Something wrong with that?" Sherlock asked.
"I hate fancy dinners, and I don't like dressing up." John grumbled.
"Is there an occasion?" Sherlock asked.
"She claims we're not spending enough time with each other." John sighed.
"Then you can't skip it or you'll be in trouble." Sherlock insisted.
"I know that I can't skip it, but I just don't want to go." John sighed.
"Pretend to get kidnapped." Sherlock suggested.
"That's one way to get out of it." John laughed. "But right now I'm starving; do you want to get a bite to eat?" John asked.
"Me?" Sherlock asked with disbelief.
"No, the person sitting next to you." John sighed with mock disappointment. Sherlock, being the idiot he was, actually looked next to him, expecting to see Mary or some pretty girl sitting next to him, but instead there was no one. John just groaned, trying to look like he was upset with Sherlock's obliviousness, and got out of the booth.
"Let me just grade this last paper." Sherlock decided, speed grading and typing into the laptop while John watched, leaning casually on the booth. Sherlock was only a tad bit distracted by his absolute beauty. Finally he stuffed all the papers in the bag and closed the laptop lid, getting out of the seat so quickly that he bumped his knees painfully on the bottom of the table.
"In a hurry?" John asked.
"Well I don't want to keep you waiting." Sherlock mumbled, zipping up his bag very quickly to give his nervous hands something to do.
"So, where do you want to go? I don't have to be back home until three." John decided.
"Oh, no I don't want to be a burden." Sherlock insisted, even though his heart was practically screaming for him to shut up. Of course he wanted to spend the day with John, oh god he would love to spend the day with John, but he didn't want John to think he had to take him to lunch just because they happened to meet.
"Oh come on I don't want to hear that. I'm glad I found you, it's no fun wandering around this town alone." John assured. Sherlock mumbled thanks, but John either didn't hear it or didn't care, he was heading for the doors of the coffee shop. Sherlock followed, accidentally bumping his bag off of a chair and tipping it over, apologizing over and over to the owner and hearing John chuckling behind him.
"I'll pretend I never saw that." John decided with a little laugh, pushing the glass door open and leading Sherlock into the chilly street.
"Probably for the best." Sherlock agreed as he tied his blue scarf around his neck and buttoned up his coat. John looked up at him for a moment and just sighed.
"I'm pretty sure your coat is taller than me." he decided. Sherlock didn't know how to answer that, so he just hummed his agreement and squinted his eyes against the chilly wind that was blowing through the town.
"Any lunch recommendations?" Sherlock asked.
"Happy you asked." John decided. "There's the best cheesesteak place down the street, not far at all. You can probably smell the grease from here if the wind blew."
"Cheesesteaks are good." Sherlock agreed, even though he wasn't the biggest fan of elaborate sandwiches. Usually for lunches he ate salads or sandwiches unless Mrs. Hudson interfered. She's always going on about how he didn't eat enough food or didn't get enough sleep and wasn't taking care of himself.
"I can tell you're not really the one to go out to eat often." John guessed.
"I'm a teacher, how could I?" Sherlock pointed out. John studied him for a moment, the breeze rustling his annoyingly attractive blonde hair. Sherlock felt like he was under a large beautiful spotlight.
"It's really weird to think of you as a teacher." John decided. Sherlock couldn't help but laugh at that stupid statement.
"Well it's the only thing you know me as." Sherlock pointed out.
"No, I know you are, but it's really hard to think of you sitting in a chair surrounded by twenty little children." John decided.
"Trust me, it's not easy." Sherlock assured. "But they find my sarcasm and insults as jokes, they think it's funny."
"Do you insult my son?" John asked.
"No, never Hamish, he doesn't really have anything wrong about him, while as Charlie and other kids, they get a new nickname every day."
"That sounds a bit harsh." John decided, stopping at an intersection to let a white car pass.
"It makes the job a lot more entertaining." Sherlock decided.
"It won't be fun when kids come crying to their parents." John assured. Sherlock nodded, but he could really care less. And besides, the kids thought it was a game.
"Does Hamish ever talk about me?" he asked.
"Ya, he does. He says you're really fun and a great teacher." John said.
"You're just making that up to make me feel good." Sherlock decided.
"No, I'm actually not; ask him yourself he thinks you're the best teacher he's had." John pointed out.
"You know that won't boost his math scores right?" Sherlock laughed. John just playfully slapped his arm, sending an unknown chill down Sherlock's spine.
"I'm not lying!" John insisted.
"I know." Sherlock assured.
"You're actually a topic of conversation in our house, considering everyone knows you." John shrugged.
"Oh? What's said?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, if you want the truth I don't think you made a very good impression on Mary." John pointed out.
"Oh cut me some slack, she was one of the last conferences and I was just eager to get home." Sherlock sighed. "What did she say?"
"She thinks you're creepy." John pointed out. Sherlock just smiled to himself, of course she did.
"Well I suppose I am a bit creepy." Sherlock shrugged.
"No you're not." John insisted. Well he had no idea about Sherlock's massive crush on him, so yes; he might come across as normal.
"Well that's good to hear, I don't want to be pushy or overwhelming or anything." Sherlock decided.
"You're neither." John assured.
"Good." Sherlock sighed.
"So, still up for some cheesesteaks?" John asked.
"Nothing has changed I assure you." Sherlock agreed.
"Sounds good to me too." John agreed, pulling open the door to some hole in the wall shop. Sherlock, of course, knew that most of the best restaurants are places that got a C health inspection, and the smell wafting out of this shop smelled like heaven on Earth.
"Hey, John!" said a man excitedly from the other side of the room. He was waiting in line, sort of in front, playing with a little string on his jacket as he waited.
"Greg!" John said happily. The man, who must have been Greg, cut back through the line to come talk. It was like a mallet had dropped on Sherlock's heart. Of course John wouldn't pay attention to him as long as this Greg character was in play.
"Good to see you mate." Greg decided.
"It's been a while, since the fourth of July right?" John asked.
"Unfortunately." Greg agreed.
"Oh, Greg, this is Sherlock, Hamish's teacher, and this is Greg." John decided, stepping out of the way to introduce the two. Sherlock stiffened up, nervously shaking Greg's hand as if he were worried that the man would pull out an ax on him.
"You're Hamish's teacher?" Greg asked.
"Yes." Sherlock said simply.
"How in the world did you get him as a cheesesteak buddy?" Greg asked John, as if he forgot that Sherlock was still there.
"Long story." John shrugged.
"Not really." Sherlock objected.
"Doesn't really matter anyway." John decided.
"You don't really strike me as the teacher type." Greg decided. Sherlock just sighed, if one more person told him that he just might have to pull an ax out himself.
"Looks can be deceiving." Sherlock decided.
And then Sherlock's time with John was ruined. The two of them spent their entire meal discussing football, and upon learning that Sherlock didn't watch it (halfway through their conversation) they gave up trying to include him. Sherlock was the awkward third wheel, as he was in most situations, eating the glorious cheesesteak very uncomfortably. After a while though, their trash was collected and their money paid the three headed back. Greg had come in a car, and after offering the two of them rides, which they refused, John and Sherlock walked home.
"He's quite a guy." John decided.
"Loud." Sherlock commented.
"Loud, yes, but he's got things to say." John shrugged.
"I assume you two are best friends?" Sherlock guessed.
"Yep. One of the only people I can get away with." John agreed.
"What do you mean by that?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, you know, family life can be really stressful; sometimes I need some me time." John shrugged.
"Try teaching second graders." Sherlock sighed.
"Never ever." John laughed. There was a bit of silence in which the two just walked, watching as their feet hit the sidewalks and occasionally crunching on withering dead leaves.
"What's your middle name?" John asked after a while.
"Sherlock." Sherlock admitted.
"I kind of thought so, after all of those letters you signed your emails with." John decided.
"William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Bit of a long name I suppose." Sherlock shrugged.
"Why'd you pick Sherlock?" John asked.
"It's an odd name for an odd person." Sherlock shrugged.
"Does anyone call you William?" John asked.
"Only Mrs. Hudson and my parents, if they're really really mad." Sherlock laughed.
"I guess you don't like hearing that name then." John guessed.
"Last name I was called from my mother." Sherlock shrugged.
"I'm sorry to hear that." John muttered.
"Yes well, it's not your fault. I like it a lot better here anyway, freedom and all that." Sherlock shrugged.
"Freedom's nice, but it's a lot better being on the other side of the house hierarchy. When you're a parent you almost never get freedom." John pointed out.
"That's why I don't really plan on it." Sherlock decided.
"I wouldn't advise against it, but I also wouldn't encourage it. Then again, when you're old, you'll need someone to watch over you and all that." John pointed out.
"An 18 year investment I guess." Sherlock laughed. John just laughed, nodding his agreement.
"Yes, I suppose so." he agreed. Sherlock saw, with a bit of disappointment, that his road was coming up soon, and that he'd have to leave John. He didn't want to; now that Greg was gone it was nice to talk to him once again. Who knows when the next time will be?
"Well, this is my street actually, so I guess this is the parting of the ways." Sherlock sighed.
"I suppose it is." John agreed.
"It's nice talking to you; I hope we can do it again sometime." Sherlock decided.
"Do you have my number?" John asked.
"I don't believe I do." Sherlock muttered.
"Do you have a pen?" John asked.
"Yes, but I'm afraid I only have math tests as paper, and I wouldn't want to rip up one of those." Sherlock muttered.
"We'll do it the old fashioned way then." John decided with a little laugh, grabbing Sherlock's hand before he could react. Shivers and shocks went flowing through his entire body as their hands touched, but John didn't seem to notice as he scrawled down sloppy numbers onto Sherlock's palm.
"There we go." John said with a little laugh, handing a now stuttering Sherlock his pen back.
"Okay then, I guess I'll see you when I see you." Sherlock muttered.
"Yes you will. Call me." John added with a girlish voice, smiling and waving a farewell to Sherlock as he walked back down the road. Sherlock watched him for a little bit, noticing the very soldier like walk he had and the way his hands swung and how he probably couldn't reach even the low hanging branches of a tree that covered the sidewalk. Sherlock sighed, walking into his own house, his own empty, miserable house, wishing that John was following him through the door.