Divided We Will Fall

Loyalist For a Night

Like it or not, he was still keeping watch for John's arrival. That boy had a keen sense of when the worst possible moment was to show up, and so Sherlock was expecting him by now. Just as their topic turned to something that really shouldn't be overheard, there was a very strong chance that he was just appear when he thought it most convenient. Ah! As if on cue, Sherlock could just make out a short little head of blonde hair through the dense crowds, coming from the usual direction. He wasn't the only one to notice, of course, for as soon as he made a noise of discontent Molly slapped him and shushed irritably.
"You should be nice to him today, Sherlock. Yesterday you proved to be a monster." Molly warned.
"Well ya, he was interrupting my confession!" Sherlock defended.
"That's still no reason to be insufferable." Molly snapped. Sherlock gasped, or at least pretended to, for as soon as he began to open his mouth to argue he was cut off my Molly's aggressive waving.
"John! Hi John, nice to see you!" she exclaimed, summoning the milkman over to meet them at their bench whereas Sherlock would've much rather he kept on walking by. How could Molly expect him to be nice when she insisted so blatantly on tainting their nice afternoon with his presence? John fought through the crowd as would be expected, obediently showing up next to the bench and looking upon the two with a smile. As afraid as he appeared to be by Sherlock's presence he hid it very well, he smiled wide and looked genuinely happy to see them.
"Hello Ms. Hooper, hello Sherlock." John said with a grin.
"Why does she get a formal title, and I just get Sherlock?" Sherlock clarified with a frown, looking up at John in a very offended sort of way.
"Because she still earns the formal greeting. She's proven herself to be a proper lady." John defended with a knowing grin, the sort of grin that made Sherlock want to knock his exposed teeth out.
"You'd proven yourself to be a very improper lady, Sherlock." Molly reminded him, to which John laughed out loud. Of course he would find that sort of thing funny.
"As has he. He's been rude to me the minute we first met, and I can see that nothing has changed." Sherlock muttered. "Not to mention he's insufferably nosey."
"I apologize for that. In fact I had attempted to formally apologize for it yesterday, but since my presence was so inopportune..." John sighed heavily, ending his sentence and letting his listeners fill in the blanks. Sherlock stared at him, very unamused, before forcing something of a smile on his face.
"My apologies for prioritizing." Sherlock snapped.
"Well we're doing nothing now, if you'd like to sit with us?" Molly suggested, gesturing to the open bench space next to where Sherlock was sitting. Of course she would suggest that, for she always wanted to trap Sherlock into new friendships! Oh how like his mother she was turning out to be.
"That would be wonderful! I've got nowhere to be." John assured, nodding with a grin before taking the spot next to Sherlock. Of course they both knew that most of this conversation would be held right overtop of Sherlock, for he wasn't going to do much talking and Molly was going to keep the entire dialog running.
"Why do you keep saying you have nowhere to be when you're obviously passing the same spot, at the same time, every day? As if you're on a schedule, despite how easily you break it?" Sherlock wondered curiously, looking at John with the utmost suspicion. Sherlock wasn't going to deny it; he had always seen something very fishy in John Watson. He didn't know what it was, but there was something too perfect about him, something too downright American that got him thinking that there was more to his friendly milkman routine. But what it was could not be placed, at least not at the moment.
"Well Sherlock, I'll let you in on a little secret. I work down that way," John pointed the way he had come, "And I live that way." He pointed then, to the way he was going. "And I get done with my milk routine ten minutes before this."
"That's a valid excuse." Molly agreed immediately, and with a laugh from both sides Sherlock just frowned, accepting his defeat.
"Yes I do suppose it is." Sherlock muttered with a sigh. John laughed once more, leaning back on the bench as if he owned it and looking at Sherlock with a very satisfied gaze.
"You don't trust me then, do you?" he clarified. Sherlock scowled, attempting to scoot over towards Molly's side of the bench so as to avoid John's now sprawling limbs.
"I never did, obviously." Sherlock insisted with a frown. "It's hard to trust anyone who waltzes around your house without permission."
"Like I said, your mother had let me in, and I was delivering the milk as I always do! It wasn't waltzing, and I most certainly had permission." John defended, throwing his arms up in the air as if he was becoming exasperated with this question.
"A likely excuse now, but when I find you anywhere you shouldn't be, I'm reporting you to the police." Sherlock warned.
"Now Sherlock stop that, don't be so harsh!" Molly insisted, yet Sherlock was quite satisfied. John nodded; obviously he would take such a warning to heart in the future. And if that was enough to keep that man's oddly perfect nose out of Sherlock's house and far away from the soldiers, then that would certainly prove such a warning to be worthwhile.