The Humanity Extraction

Chapter 2~ Party?

"Sherlock?" I looked up grumpily from my laptop screen and pressed my lips together, waiting. John didn't wait for permission to continue. Of course. "Who do you actually care about?" He asked suddenly. Hmm. Interesting question. Mycroft? No. God, no. Donovan? I suppose she can be interesting, but... No. Anderson? Arrogant prick. Mrs Hudson... I think maybe yes. Molly, of course, yes! She gets me my experiment specimens. John Doe, I'm afraid I needed your head to test tear duct contraction and closure against dilation upon death. Thank you again for taking that illegal high. That I could really do with right about-

I turned my attention back to John, who was still waiting for my obviously intelligent reply.

"Molly... Mrs Hudson... Why?" He looked vaguely disturbed by my reply. Can't imagine why. 

"Is that all, Sherlock?" There was an edge to his voice then that confused me. 

"...John, I'm afraid I don't understand." I sipped my coffee casually. He shook his head slightly in disbelief and shuffled his feet awkwardly. 

"Well, Sherlock, it's just... Nothing. It's nothing." It dawned on me then that he didn't understand why I hadn't said his name. Oh. Sorry, John. 

"John, do you have anything between your ears?! Of course, I share a flat with you because I hate you." My tone was utterly sarcastic, but little John didn't quite understand. He tugged on his jumper anxiously and looked ready to smash my face off of his again. And no I don't mean like that. God. "Sarcasm, John..." I said impatiently. He straightened and blushed a deep scarlet. How very interesting. 

"Oh. Oh, of course. Right." He trailed off, obviously uncomfortable. I sighed and shook my head. He glanced up through his lashes at me and I did offer him a smile. Sadly, he didn't return it. Instead, he held my gaze for a few wobbly moments until his mouth twitched slightly at the corner. There was an awkward pause for the briefest of heartbeats. 

"Not Mycroft?" I glanced at him for a short second and then did a double take, seeing that he was being serious. 

"John. Have you entirely lost every vague hint of a brain in the past twenty minutes?!" I barked at him, a little sharper than intended. He pursed his lips and watched me evenly, leaning casually against the door frame. 

"No, actually. You displayed a fair amount of sibling rivalry I seem to remember..." His eyes were bright. Oh, God help me. The man had an idea. I slapped my laptop shut, perhaps with a tad more force than necessary but the stupid thing had been bleeping at me insistently for the past hour- Anyway. I threw the laptop aside and it bounced indignantly off the cushions. I was up before it had even landed. 

"What now, John..." I sighed, arms folded, waiting. He grinned in that cheeky schoolboy way that he did, all glowing cheeks and shifting eyes. John just shrugged and stood up straight, turned his back on me, and marched jauntily into the kitchen. I sighed, flopping back down onto the sofa and crossing my legs, and picked up my violin, the oiled wood warm and thrumming with life in my hands - Oh, you dirty, dirty people... Get your minds out of the gutter, can a man not appreciate an instrument in his - I give up. Now, as I was saying. Gripping the slender bow, I sawed it back and forth harshly, the screeching sound of strained strings soothing my frustration. With more care this time, I began to play, coaxing sweet notes from the volatile wooden creature I cradled below my chin, accompanied by the rumble of London rush hour traffic. And, oh, what a sweet song we sang. 

John reappeared eventually, with bolognese sauce decorating his top lip. I frowned and stopped playing, the bow still resting on the strings. 

"You ate without me?" John frowned too, his lips set into a hard line. 

"Well... Yes? I thought that was fairly obvious?" I brought the violin down from my chin with a flourish, set it down carefully and uncrossed my legs dramatically, planting them firmly on the floor and giving him a stern sideways look. 

"Why?" I whined slightly, arms crossed. I was being pathetic but at that moment I didn't exactly care. 

"It's not like you eat anyway, Sherlock." He challenged, I blinked. 

"Maybe I'm hungry." I retorted, quite proud of the line I had just delivered. Technically speaking, I said maybe, so he cannot tell me I'm wrong as it's a hypothesis and all I need to do is prove it for it to be true- 

"No, you're not." Thank you, John, for respecting the laws of Science. I gave him a childish glare and he chuckled. He then walked over to me for no reason I was aware of. I eyeballed him warily for the few moments it took him to reach me, but all he did was flop down next to me and make a show of crossing his legs. This was... New. He took a breath and I waited for the intelligent remark that he must surely make this time. Impress me, John. 

"Are you voting?" He's really lost it. 

"What? For what? 'People's Choice' awards?" I said flatly. John chuckled at that, but shook his head. 

"No, for the next head of Government." I laughed, assuming it was a punch line of a very bad joke. I stopped laughing abruptly. 

"That was a terrible joke, John. I'm ashamed of you." He appeared to be choking. "John?" A loud giggle escaped him then. 

"I was being serious, Sherlock."

I waved my hand around, dismissive, desperately fishing around for some political idea. Nothing emerged. I sighed. 

"...Yes?" He didn't seem surprised by my answer. Good. That was a normal response, then. 

"What party?" Party? I shrugged. He stared at me, a smile on his face and his mouth partially open. 

"You don't know any, do you?" He chuckled. I shrugged and scowled at my dressing gown. 

"It's irrelevant." He laughed loudly then, and I missed the devilish glint that entered his gaze. 

"Mycroft's right." I resisted the urge to slap him, and sat silently, brooding. "He really is smarter." Betrayal. This was pure betrayal. I leapt to my feet, eyes blazing, and whipped around to face John, who was wearing a bright victory grin. 

"Mycroft is wrong!" I stamped my foot and gestured with my fists alarmingly. John began to look more than a little scared as my fist got closer and closer to his nose. He leant back towards the couch cushions, going cross eyed with the effort of keeping my limbs in focus. "I am clearly smarter! Chemistry student, I was outstanding! He is so pathetic he went into politics, where all you need is fancy words and 'stage-presence'!" I mocked, spittle flying in my rage. I aimed an enthusiastic kick at the coffee table that squatted behind me, and (rather thankfully, for the sake of my digits) missed, causing me to very nearly land on my arse. Agilely, I kept my balance and pirouetted round to glare at John again, almost nose to nose with him. "And furthermore, John Watson, can I remind you that I am one of very few people in the world you can actually rely on to put up with you, and insulting me by the means of my brother may not be the wisest move of your career." My silk dressing-gown sweeping behind me, I strode from the room and into my bedroom, slamming the door and collapsing onto my bed. 

Not even ten minutes later, there was a tentative knock on my door. I ignored it, and rolled onto my side, my silk-clad back to the door and my lower lip jutting out; a frown etched into my forehead that had been present so long my very skull was aching. I heard it open despite my distinct lack of consent, and a weight settled itself on my bed as a hand gripped my ankle. I continued to gaze at the wall, stony-faced. 

"Sherlock." I ignored him. "You asked me to investigate your humanity." His voice was not apologetic, nor gentle. This was truly Doctor John Watson. Unknown to me, I started to listen. "Your anger and defence of yourself in the context of your brother... Were very, very human." I could hear the smile in his voice, and I rolled over to face him. 

"So?" I mumbled. But he knew my anger was spent and that I had forgiven him already. John offered me a smile - and I returned it. Now, why didn't he do that for me? 

"So, Sherlock, I was right. You're human under all that." Should have known: he'd ruin it eventually. So, I rolled over and glared at the wall. 

It solves all the worlds' problems.