Kissing Him

Kissing John

Thanks so much for stopping in, you random three people, you! So this first part is from Sherlock's perspective, and the next one will be from John's.

rainbow-trashcan and yxwzah wanted this so *weird jazz hands* Hope it's good.

Sorry it took so long by the way XD Been working on this since, like, November.

Sherlock was never one to let his mind override what was in front of him. However, he found that when he truly was deep in a puzzling case, no matter what the evidence or the victim or whatever else one might propose to analyze, he would vanish without noticing he had.

He would just sort of zone out, to put it lightly. It was like someone flipped a switch; turning it on was akin to opening an invisible bridge to his mind palace, making sure he moved from reality without so much as a hint that he had done so.

Perhaps Sherlock could blame the action on John somehow. Yes, that did seem quite right. The two of them had been arguing, in the middle of an extremely pressing case nonetheless, the topic being just short of an exticential crisis.

The blame would go to John whether the man enjoyed or loathed it.

(Fair warning: I know NOTHING about English court so I'm basing it on American. Sorry about that.)

So, here he stood in the courtroom of his mind palace, John sitting atop the witness stand. The blonde blinked at him boredly, awaiting him to speak.

Sherlock held his hands to his face as he thought, currently unaware of the tranfer between reality and his own mind, though it would come. It always had.

"The question I have yet to propose to you, John, is this," the detective quipped. "Why does one such as yourself put up with the likes of myself?"

John raised an eyebrow. "Why would I not?" he countered. "You're a perfectly reasonable person to be around, Sherlock. For me, at least. Otherwise, I would have been gone on the first day."

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, of course." He waved a hand. "But that's not what I'm wanting to hear. Why is it that you do put up with me?"

"You're the most brilliant man I've ever met," John said, tilting his head. "Again, why would I not?"

Pursing his lips, Sherlock said, "Because I'm an annoying asshole with a somewhat heavy dictator complex."

John nodded. "Yes, that's correct."

Sherlock took a step closer to the stand. "John, what possesses you to stay with me everyday?" he asked.

"I'm in love with you," John answered without so much as a pause.

That's when Sherlock knew he was simply within his mind palace. John didn't love him, and he certainly wouldn't tell him he did. It wasn't plausible.

"My mind does love to pester me, doesn't it?" he muttered, shaking his head. "Getting my hopes up yet again."

John shrugged. "So life goes," he chirped. "We move on and repeat the same dance."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Do we?"

"Oh, yes." John nodded his head. "You spend most of your day dreaming about how much you want to kiss the real John Watson." He laughed, smirking. "This palace of yours is awfully rotten, Sherlock."

Giving John a sharp look, he disbelievingly stated, "I don't do that."

The man rolled his eyes. "Doesn't do it, he says." He scoffed. "Do you even bloody hear yourself? You don't hear the obvious lies in your tone?"