These Days

The Ring and the Shattered World

"Oh, I suppose this one slipped your attention." Sherlock decided with a little laugh.
"I'm sorry?" John asked. Sherlock flipped the worksheet so John could see it.
"Sorry to inform you Mr. Watson, but twenty minus three isn't eighteen." Sherlock pointed out.
"Seventeen." John decided.
"Yes, but this is Hamish's handwriting so I'll let you off the hook." Sherlock shrugged.
"Sorry about that." John muttered, feeling his face get red even though he did nothing wrong.
"It's quite alright; I make mistakes as well when grading the papers. The words and numbers just kind of blur together." Sherlock shrugged.
"I know how you feel, with those blueprints and spread sheets and all that rubbish." John sighed.
"But I suppose you can't make it up with a bunny sticker?" Sherlock asked with a little laugh.
"No, just hundreds of dollars of repairs." John agreed. Sherlock chuckled a little bit, closing the folder and setting it neatly on the spot free desk. John noticed that the wood was dusted and everything was organized. It may have just been the janitor, but Sherlock might have been cleaning up just for him.
"Has Mary been going over the sheets with Hamish as well?" Sherlock asked.
"Not as much as I have, but yes. I'm sure you could find some of her handwriting floating around in there." John decided.
"That's good. I know that sometimes math could be a bit of a family bonding experience."
"Not in all families." John shrugged.
"Yes, I suppose it could tear them apart just as easily." Sherlock agreed.
"I hated math, always did." John decided.
"I'll be the oddball out and say that I enjoyed it. Very much actually, took all of the courses available." Sherlock shrugged.
"You have so much more potential than being a second grade teacher." John decided, kind of his sub consciousness talking. Sherlock just nodded stiffly, looking at his desk as if trying to anticipate his next set of words.
"Yes well, I suppose we all need to make sacrifices. Someday maybe I'll move up, maybe even quit this school, but until then here I am." Sherlock shrugged.
"Well you've got to like it here, just a little bit?" John asked.
"I think Hell would be a bit more inviting." Sherlock said with a little smart smile.
"You haven't made any friends or anything?" John asked.
"Well, I guess there is one teacher that doesn't scowl at my name." Sherlock shrugged.
"Who is that?" John asked.
"I think her name is Mrs. Hoper, could be wrong." Sherlock decided.
"You don't even know her name?" John asked.
"Well she does most of the talking." Sherlock defended.
"Why don't you ask her out then?" John asked with a little bit of a sarcastic smile. Inside of course he was screaming for Sherlock to ignore him, to maybe take him out on a date instead and not some teacher...
"Are you joking with me Mr. Watson?" Sherlock asked. John tensed up a little but, what exactly did he mean by that? Was it flirtatious or more accusing?
"No..." John muttered, trying to communicate with his body language that he was very confused about Sherlock's intentions.
"I thought we already established, many times, that I wasn't going to be dating anytime soon." Sherlock pointed out. "Or ever."
"Oh, yes sorry." John agreed, releasing the nervous breath he had been holding in. Of course that wasn't good news, Sherlock was making it painfully obvious that he didn't want an attachment to anyone, and John probably wasn't an exception.
"But like, why? Who are you saving yourself for?" John asked, feeling himself blush intensely. Always a good idea to be asking your crush these deep romantic questions.
"No one." Sherlock muttered. "I'm just not really interested." He was blushing himself, sitting dead still in his chair as if he were in an interrogation room or something.
"Fair enough. Once you're in a family, you're in it. There's no turning back." John sighed.
"You don't sound too thrilled about that." Sherlock observed.
"No, of course I'm happy but, you know, sometimes you just want to get away from it all." John muttered, twirling the globe once more.
"Planning a vacation then?" Sherlock asked.
"By myself, certainly." John agreed. "No, we're too busy, with school and my job; it's just one train wreck after another."
"Well I'm sorry to hear that. If it makes you feel any better I'm not planning any trips either, with this stupid job it's impossible and with this stupid pay check I think I'd get to about five miles before I ran out of money for gas." Sherlock said with a little bit of a laugh.
"Surely such a rich school would pay better?" John asked.
"You'd be shocked." Sherlock said with a little laugh. "I'm sure construction management is decent?"
"More than decent yes." John agreed. "Lots of work, but it pays off in the long run."
"That's good. It's good to be comfortable."
"You're not?" John asked.
"Oh I am, mostly because Mrs. Hudson charges barely anything. I think she's just happy to have somewhat of a son." Sherlock shrugged.
"That's good." John agreed.
"Yes, I suppose it is. She's all I have and I'm all she's got, so we make a perfectly functional dysfunctional family of two I suppose." Sherlock shrugged.
"Well I'm the head of a perfectly dysfunctional lunatic house, feel free to trade anytime." John laughed.
"You don't like your life?" Sherlock asked, looking half concerned and half, almost, hopeful.
"I do, I do, its got its ups and downs I suppose." John shrugged.
"Mostly ups I hope?" Sherlock asked. John just shrugged, knowing the answer to that question was a big no but not wanting to sound like he was complaining about his life or anything.
"So, how is this gifted program working out?" John asked.
"I assume it's fine, I don't teach it but Hamish seems a lot more entertained than previous weeks." Sherlock decided.
"That's good, I don't want him to be bored. Who teaches it?" John asked.
"I honestly don't pay attention that much." Sherlock said with a small laugh.
"Also understandable." John agreed.
"I'm sure whoever teaches it is a good teacher, of course only matched by yours truly." Sherlock said with a sarcastic little laugh. John didn't know whether to laugh or agree with him, so he just smiled and nodded.
"Sarcasm Mr. Watson, if you didn't know." Sherlock added.
"No, actually I was quite confused." John agreed with a guilty laugh.
"A foreign term for you?" Sherlock asked.
"No, just with Hamish we have to be all serious around Hamish though, make sure he's not sassing the teachers or anything like that." John shrugged.
"No, he's perfectly kind around here, quite the Mr. Popular actually." Sherlock pointed out.
"Wow, that's certainly different from me." John decided.
"Same here." Sherlock laughed. "From my school experience I'm shocked I ever wanted to come back."
"Bad?" John asked.
"Terrible. I suppose being smart puts a target on your head and a kick me sign on your back." Sherlock shrugged.
"I'm sorry to hear that." John muttered.
"Well it's certainly not your fault." Sherlock assured. "I survived, that's all that matters now. I'm sure half of my 'friends' are now either living in the streets or in prison, and here I am." Sherlock shrugged.
"Well it's probably good that you stayed out of prison." John decided.
"Oh, it's tempting sometimes." Sherlock said with a straight face. John's smile kind of faded, was he saying he was tempted to kill people?
"Wait, seriously?" John asked, kind of nervously. But Sherlock broke into a fit of intoxicating giggles.
"No, of course not. Obviously you have a low expectation of me." Sherlock said with a laugh.
"Thank god. I wouldn't really want my son to be taught by a murderer." John decided.
"And he won't, as long as he's in this room." Sherlock assured.
"Good, that's reassuring." John admitted with a laugh. There was a bit of awkward silence, John spun the globe some more and saw Sherlock's eyes flick once or twice in his general direction, as if he were sneaking in glances but felt guilty about it.
"There's this game the children play, on the globe. They spin it and stop it with one finger, and that's where they are going to live. Honestly it's quite an entertaining game for boredom, but I always end up living under the ocean most of the time." Sherlock shrugged. John smiled, spinning the globe and blindly stopping it.
"Hmm, somewhere in Africa." John decided. "Morocco I think."
"Lucky. I've been in the Atlantic, the Pacific, and New Jersey." Sherlock said with a laugh.
"Well I know which one sounds the most appealing." John shrugged.
"The Pacific." Sherlock decided.
"Yep." John agreed. He couldn't help but glance at his watch, and his heart fell. It was already eight o'clock, apparently time flies when you're having awkward conversations with a beautiful man.
"Oh, dang I've got to get home, Mary will have my head!" John decided, grabbing the folder and standing up once more.
"Understandable." Sherlock agreed, sounding slightly disappointed. They shared a moment of eye contact in which John saw how deep the green went, how many emotions were cooped up in his pupils as if begging people to see his inner pain. There was a moment were John was debating whether to just go for it, to kiss him now and then run for his bloody life, but there were some complications, like the desk that separated them.
"I suppose this is goodbye then." Sherlock decided.
"Yes, I suppose. Have a good night Mr. Holmes." John decided.
"And you Mr. Watson, I'm sure I'll see you around." Sherlock agreed.
"I hope so." John said, nodding one last time and leaving the room with momentary defeat.
"Mr. Watson?" Sherlock said quickly, just as John was about to reach the door handle. He turned in hope, trying not to look too excited about this last minute word. Sherlock looked nervous, fiddling with the end of his coat but looking John dead in the eyes.
"I suppose I'm just waiting for someone to love me back." Sherlock admitted, dead serious. His words gave John chills, whatever he meant by that he couldn't figure out. And he also couldn't figure out what else to say.
"Um, yes, goodnight." John muttered very quickly, feeling his heart start to be so loud Sherlock must be able to hear it from over there. He nodded once again and slipped out into the now deserted hallway. The lights were off and there was an eerie silence settling over the school. He stood there for a quite a while, someone to love him back. What could that mean? John now thoroughly wished he hadn't left so early, maybe Sherlock would initiate the unspoken truth between them. John stared at his wedding ring though, glowing slightly in the illuminated darkness. He couldn't do it, could he? John took a deep breath and stared at the hallway in front of him. Mary would be expecting him; there was no turning back now.      

             Sherlock POV. Sherlock was practically hitting himself over the head for his own stupidity, why in the world would he say something so terribly obvious. There was no one to love him back, of course there wasn't, and Mr. Watson wouldn't care even if there was. The night had gone perfectly until he had to open his stupid mouth. John was the same as he remembered, he was beautiful, he was charming, amusing, the entire package for the perfect man. And Mary had taken him. Sherlock leaned on his elbows and listened to the quiet that now filled the once cheerful room. Surely Mr. Watson was gone now, off to tell his miserable wife about what a creepy man Sherlock was. Or he was off to call the police that was understandable as well. Sherlock was just about to pack his things when the door opened once more. He was expecting the SWAT team, but instead John stood in the door, his entire face beat red but determined. Sherlock opened his mouth to say something when John flung something at him, aggressively but obviously not meant to hurt him. Sherlock caught it with surprise, looking down to see that he had caught a shiny golden ring. The color drained from his face and his entire body went rigid, not knowing what to think or what to say.   

"Mr. Watson, what..." his sentence was cut off by John walking over to him and grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him up to his feet very aggressively. Maybe the ring was a reminder that John was unavailable, maybe it was a token to say that he was now free. Either way the terror in John's face and the almost rage in his eyes told Sherlock one thing, that he was going to get beat up. But as he stared into the determined hazel eyes the last thing he might have guessed happened, John kissed him. It wasn't just a little peck or anything, it was a full out kiss, in which Sherlock was so shocked that he almost fell back into his chair. It took some getting used to, and some moment to get over his absolute amazement, but Sherlock went with it, stumbling momentarily into his desk and hearing a crash behind him. It didn't matter really, that might have been a tectonic plate cracking underneath them and Sherlock wouldn't care. John Watson, the only person he could never ever have, was kissing him. And he was kissing back. But as soon as it started it was over, maybe John had come to his senses, maybe he was too scared to continue, but he pulled away fast and the two breathless men just stared at each other for a moment, just to see if it were a joke. Sherlock felt his entire face getting instant sunburn from the embarrassment, and John was looking as if he had just run a double marathon, but there was bluffing and no hesitation from either of them. Neither pushed each other away and neither broke out into mean laughter, they just stared, absolutely amazed. And then something snapped in John, he grabbed the ring from the desk and ran out of there as fast as humanly possible, leaving Sherlock to stand and stare at the door, wondering what in his life he had done to deserve such a glorious change of events. Sherlock couldn't catch his breath, he couldn't retain himself from wanting to run after John and kiss him again, but he knew that was impossible. But then again, what he had previously thought to be impossible had just happened, right there, in the flesh, John Watson had kissed him. Sherlock looked around to make sure no one else had seen that, and noticed then what the crash had been. His globe was absent from the desk, in pieces on the floor. John Watson had literally just shattered Sherlock's world.