A Series of Johnlock One Shots

3 - Life Before John Watson

(A/N: This is more of an enquiry. Remember when Sherlock was getting ready to go see Irene Adler and we saw a clip of him pulling on a police jacket? I want to know what else Sherlock has in his wardrobe...and then this happened.)

John woke up to he feeling of Sherlock's fingers tracing over the bones in his back.

“Morning.” John mumbled, looking up into icy blue eyes which sparkled with post-coital joy.

“Good morning.” Sherlock grumbled in reply, his voice gruff with sleep. John swung his legs over the edge of the bed, already feeling cold and empty. He went over to Sherlock's wardrobe to fulfil the tradition of wearing the shirt of the person you slept with but stopped when the bed creaked sharply, he turned to find Sherlock sat bolt upright.

“What?” John asked, worried that something was wrong. What if Sherlock was regretting it? Sherlock didn't reply and changed his expression from panic to emotionless. John opened the door to Sherlock's wardrobe and gasped.

The memory of Sherlock trying on a florescent police jacket before meeting Irene Adler flashed through John's mind as he took in the piled up chaos.

“Oh. My. God. Sherlock...what the...what?” John breathed, he had never seen the inside of Sherlock's wardrobe before and regretted opening it now as piles of clothes for every occasion fell onto him, like the wall of a dam bursting.

“That's why I have my suits on my chair...so that I don't have to open my wardrobe.” Sherlock explained in a monotone voice as he loomed over John who was knelt on the floor covered in clothes.

“How did this happen?” John mused, looking around at the mass of clothes. Most importantly, how did Sherlock fit all of this in his tiny wardrobe?

“I used to go undercover a lot on cases. We don't need to anymore now that Lestrade is on the force but sometimes it comes in handy.” Sherlock explained as he got dressed. John's eyes lit up with the prospect that each item had a story behind it. They spent the rest of the day going through the wardrobe, with John holding up an item of clothing and Sherlock telling him the story behind it.

“What about this?” John asked, holding up a tweed jacket that he was sure would look really good on the detective.

“University professor. I taught English.” Sherlock informed his flatmate, who's mouth was hung open in shock.

“You taught at university?” John exclaimed,

“Only one lecture. The students learnt more in that hour than they learnt the whole term.” They smirked at each other before John leant back and pain shot through his hand. He sat back up, clutching his hand as he looked at the offending object; a pair of round black-rimmed glasses. John grabbed them, putting them on only to find out they were fake.

“What about these?” Sherlock's eyes widened when he looked back at John. He smirked though.

“Not for a case. I went to International Comic Con in my 20's as Harry Potter.” The detective took them off of John, pausing for a chaste kiss before putting the glasses on, surprising John with the remarkable difference it made. “I didn't have much of a life before you.” he joked, being surprisingly sentimental for a man who didn't believe in sentiment.

“That's not what I'm hearing.” John replied, amazed at how brilliant Sherlock was and is.

(A/N: I'm going to do a one shot with Sherlock and John going under cover because that's always fun and I will write up a teen!lock of John and Sherlock meeting at Comic Con. I'm already excited. Once again, all comments, votes and reads are gratefully received, so thank you if you have done any of the above :D)