A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! So I have found a new kink that I am really into....John is a priest and Sherlock is a troublesome boy that makes him question his faith....it defies every fibre of my good Christian upbringing and I love it lol. anyways....in this Sherlock is eighteen and John is about 25 or so. Hope you like it!!! Enjoy<3
"Father Watson?" The firm voice carried through the empty halls of the church, pulling the Good Father from his prayers. He stood, straightening his robes and sighing heavily. He loved working in the church, helping lost souls find forgiveness in the Lord, but he was bored.
He had worked in the army as a doctor, also serving as the company's priest. Things were definitely not boring over there.
He stepped out of his chambers and glanced down the hall, catching sight of a pair of men at the end of the hall.
"Father Watson?" The shorter of the two asked, raising his hand in question. Father Watson waved them closer, scanning his brain for some explanation. No one had told him of any late-night appointments today.
The shorter man grabbed the taller man's elbow and dragged him forwards, and it was then that Father Watson realized the taller of the two was bound in handcuffs.
"Father Watson?"
"Yes, what can I help you with?" He shook the had of the shorter man, the darkened halls keeping them in the shadows.
"My name is Detective Inspector Lestrade. Is there somewhere we can talk?"
"Of course, right in here." Father Watson waved the pair into the spacious office the clergy had offered him when he took the position. He turned on the lights and made his way over to the desk, finally able to see his guests.
The shorter of the two waited until Father Watson was seated to sit, following standard decorum. He was greying, with a soft face that did nothing to hide the discomfort he was clearly feeling.
The taller of the two showed no signs of discomfort or knowledge of social customs as he dropped his lanky frame into the chair. His face was pale, angular, and he looked incredibly bored. He picked at his nails and scanned the room, his left knee twitching absently.
"What can I help you gentlemen with tonight?" Father Watson asked, folding his hands on his desk and smiling kindly at the pain. Lestrade cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, seeming to struggle to hold the priests gaze. "Not a regular at church Detective?" The man blushed, clearing his throat and shaking his head.
"N-No, sorry Father." Father Watson chuckled, he was used to people being uncomfortable around him. "I haven't been to church in years. No time, what with work and all."
"That's quite alright Detective-"
"Oh, do stop with your lies Gavin." The second man spoke up, his dark voice startling Father Watson. "This is a house of God, your lies are not welcome."
"Are you a man of God Mr.?" The lanky young man snorted, unfolding his long legs and slouching further in his chair.
"God is a construct created by weak minds to help guilty people deal with their 'Jiminy Cricket' voices." Sherlock snapped, waving his hands as best he could.
"And this is Sherlock Holmes." Lestrade snapped, clearly at the end of his rope. "Druggie, arsehole, and resident freak-"
"Consulting Detective!"
"-Whatever!" Lestrade snapped, sighing in frustration. Sherlock smirked dangerously and straightened in his seat, leaning forward across Father Watson's desk.
