The Meeting - A WhoLock Fic

Going Out

John and Sherlock sat in silence. If wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. John was used to Sherlock’s silent periods. It was better than having him shoot up the apartment. John idly flipped the page of the newspaper he was reading. It was a lazy day, but luckily Sherlock seemed to be satisfied enough with their last case – one that John had lovingly dubbed “The Blind Banker” in his increasingly popular blog. Sherlock, of course, was having none of it – apparently John’s blogging skills lacked the ‘finesse to adequately convey the analysis that Sherlock had employed during the case’. John usually just ignored him. If Sherlock didn’t like his blog, he could write his own, instead of the ‘The Science of Deduction.’ Sherlock may be incredibly intelligent, but he was hardly up to date with what people enjoyed. John’s blog was entertaining. Sherlock’s site was…not. John sighed as he looked at his watch. He put aside the newspaper and standing up. Sherlock looked at him.

“I’m going out.” John informed him.

“Say hi to Mycroft, would you?” Sherlock replied casually.

“Can’t I just go out without it turning into something else?” John asked, half fearing the answer.

“No. Usually you read through to the comics. This time you didn’t do that. You stopped. I’d say you had a date, but judging from your appearance, you haven’t taken any steps to neaten yourself. So not a job interview either. So somewhere you don’t want to go. But you knew this was going to happen at this time, evident by the fact you did not finish the newspaper – it was prearranged, which rules out going shopping. This coupled with the fact that you were a bit nervous when you returned from the post office this morning leads me to believe that Mycroft contacted you through that public phone service he enjoys so much.”

“I’m just going to see-”

“If you were visiting your sister,” Sherlock cut in, “you would not have tried hiding where you were going.”

“I didn’t try to-”

“You’d have told me previously if you were visiting your sister. The fact you didn’t leads me to believe that you are visiting my dear brother.”

John sighed. “Brilliant, as ever, Sherlock. I’ll be back soon.”

Truth be told, John had no idea why Mycroft had called him earlier that day, as Sherlock had pointed out, he had received a phone call on the way back from the post office. John gave a frustrated sigh. Both Holmes were impossible to work with.  John crossed the room and opened the door, just before a strangely dressed man started knocking on it.

“Hello,” the man said with a grin. “I’m the Doctor.”