Consulting Detectives Saga

Chapter One

There was something strange in John's eyes that Sherlock hadn't seen before.

"John?" He asked. "What's wrong?" He could hear his heart start beating faster as he was getting nervous with every past second. John tried to say what he meant, but all he did was opening and again closing his mouth. It was dark, the flat lightened only with a lamp next to the sofa in the living room. They were standing, Sherlock in his coat and John wearing a jacket, in their flat, so close to each other that they could feel the other one's breath on their facial skin.
The moment was no longer intimate when like in it is in the movies, the phone rang, ruining the whole tention and maybe the last chance for John to confess. He took his phone out of his pocket, not really sure what to do and looked up at Sherlock. Seeing an encouraging nod he answered it. It was Mary. She really did have to call now, didn't she?
"Yes, honey, I'm heading home back now. Yes, of course I can. What else would you want me to bring? Okay. See you in a while." Embarassment caused Sherlock to back out.
"Well, there we are." Said with a light pink shade on his cheeks. "In the middle of something important, interrupted by your wife." This wasn't supposed to be a joke, but John smiled bitterly at his own fate.
"Yes. Nothing new under the sun though..."
"Do you want to continue with what you were saying?"
John looked at the wall feeling extremely uncomfortable.
"Would you mind going for a walk with me as I would buy coffee for Mary? I'm not finished with you." The last words were supposed to make John sound like he was a master of situation, instead they came out unexpectedly artificial. Every inch of his body was shaking from the emotions he experienced only
a minute ago. His mate looked calm, yet the heat of situation made blood in his veins boil which caused the blush on already red cheeks slowly grow and feel even hotter.
"No, not at all." An awkward silence fell when they where staring at each other not knowing what to say.
"Shall we go?" Sherlock asked timidly.
"Oh, of course. I got lost in my thoughts." John answered, quitting the flat with a light rush like he was trying to run away from his mate. Then he remembered he had to keep it together and act like a mature man would behave.

Keeping himself in a higher standard he waited on the street for his comrade to join him.
It wasn't a second when Sherlock was standing back next to him. The lattern was glimmering and there was nobody in here. It was about twelve o' clock and people would be sitting in front of their telly screens at that matter.
"I think I left my phone on the desk. I'll go pick it up. Be right back." Said Sherlock leaving John alone on the pavement waiting. At that instant his head was flooded by images of their conversation. His heart speeded up and he found himself staring at the house in front of him wondering about what would happen if he went for that confession.

His reflexion was interrupted by a hand sliding fastly on his mouth from behind. Immediately after that he felt a little prick of a needle on his arm. He tried to face an agressor and turn himself free from his hands, but the drug was already working and making him lose control of his body. He immediately felt dizzy and almost fell on the pavement if it wasn't for the man in
a black cap and his face covered.
All he remembered was the sound of arriving car and two men dragging him into it and putting him on the back seat. Then he fell asleep mutely calling Sherlock's name desperately wanting to be heard by his consulting detective.