The Mind Of a Fangirl // One-shots

The Detective // Sherlock

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Ship: Johnlock

The one where John goes on a date that doesn't really go well.

"Sherlock?"

The detective leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed. "Hmm?"

"I'm going out for a bit," John said. He stood in the living room of their flat, wearing his coat and fiddling with his phone.

Sherlock slowly opened his eyes and looked at John for a few seconds, before pressing his fingertips together and nodding. "Have fun on your date." He said, closing his eyes again.

"How do you -"

"You're wearing a new jumper, and a different cologne than you did this morning. Your fiddling with your phone shows you're nervous. You shaved only a few hours ago, your skin still shows signs of redness, you're obviously trying to look good for someone. You -"

"Okay, okay!" John said, a little louder than absolutely necessary, waving his hands to make his friend shut up. "You made your point."

"It's painfully obvious," Sherlock said, opening his eyes again and looking up at John. "You might need to work on that."

"Of course." John rolled his eyes, before shoving his hands into the pocket of his coat and turning around, opening the door. "I'll be back."

With those words, he walked away, closing the door behind him.

"I know you will," Sherlock muttered, a small smile laying on his lips. He stared at the door for a few seconds before letting out a sigh and closing his eyes again.

***

When John entered the house again, he was greeted by the sound of Sherlock playing the violin. A soft melody, tragic, melancholic.

It immediately made him sad.

John glanced at his watch before looking up at the detective again. "Sherlock?"

His friend turned towards him, but continued playing, his eyes focused at the strings.

"It's three o'clock."

Sherlock finished the last few notes of the song and put down his violin before looking at John. "I was waiting for you."

John raised his eyebrows in surprise.

The detective smiled a little when he saw the look on his friend's face. "I do that sometimes." He sat down in his armchair and waved for John to do the same.

For a few moments, the two men sat in a comfortable silence, before Sherlock coughed and spoke up again.

"How was your date?"

John's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline when he heard the world's only consulting detective utter those words, and he took a few breaths before answering him. "Absolutely horrendous."

"I could tell," Sherlock said, leaning forward in his chair and staring intently at his friend.

John shifted in his chair, Sherlock's intense gaze making him a little uncomfortable. "Then why did you ask?"

Sherlock shrugged. "Isn't that what friends do? Make small talk?"

"Yes, I guess." John looked away, averting his eyes from Sherlock's pale face, from his multicoloured eyes that told him that he already knew what had happened.

The silence was less comfortable this time, the tension between them growing thicker with each passing second, before the detective broke it again.