A Study in Miscommunication

Chapter 3

—-John's POV—-

Afterwards, I talked a bit with Stamford. Ugh, Mike. I really needed to get used to referring to people by their first names. Mike said Sherlock was a graduate chemist who worked with Scotland Yard. He just walked in and saw. He could read people and places like words on a page. Said he liked clever murders and got bored easily. Somehow we got into his sexuality. Mike thought Sherlock was gay if he was anything. God, I hoped it was true. My mind supplied me with images that were not at all helpful. When my trousers became tight and I shifted the subject back to murders.

—-

On the way home I thought over everything that happened. It seemed impossible. When I sat down on my bed I wondered if it was some crazy dream. How had I met someone so... perfect? He was smart, very smart, odd and didn't seem to give an arse about anything. No, that wasn't true. His face... He tried to hide it but I could tell he was used to people rejecting him.

I checked my sent messages.

-If brother has green ladder arrest brother. -SH

Mike said Holmes worked with the Yard and it looked like that was true. It was fifteen 'til so I decided I'd try to call the number tomorrow during office hours. It wouldn't be right to disturb anyone this late in the workday.

"I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." That was a very odd thing to say. Mike said he was working on a case and needed to see about bruising after death. So, he went and beat a corpse with a riding crop? That was peculiar. The other doctor had said something about solving the puzzle at any cost. It would be difficult to find information on bruising after death. I didn't know of anywhere I could find out and I still had my medical license. I wasn't sure if I could defile a corpse to find out. If someone's life was on the line I could, I suppose. Of course, he could be a serial killer. When he wasn't being charming he was rather creepy.

How did he know so much about me?

Mike said that's just what he is. I thought that was an odd choice of phrasing. He elaborated only a little, "Sherlock is Sherlock. He sees everything all the time. Can't shut his brain off even for a moment, that one." I could feel the affection in his tone. Mike told me he solved a case for him once and he'd be forever grateful. I wanted to talk more, to find out more about this Sherlock Holmes. But, I was strangely reluctant to do so. Mike always saw the good in people, even when they didn't deserve it. He saw the world through rose coloured glasses.

Then, there was the other problem. I'd felt this before but not near as bad. This draw. The pull to another person. Everything about him drew me in. The more I was around him the worse it'd be. All my thoughts were already focused on him. The last time this happened I was crushed. I really didn't want to go through that again. But he was fascinating! What if he was a psychopath? What if he was stalking me?

Why on earth would anyone want to stalk me?

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I'd hardly noticed I'd already searched the internet for him. It was good he had an uncommon name; it was easier to find that he had no social media pages, unfortunate that, but he did have a website. The more I read the more excited I became. He was amazing. He was absolutely brilliant.

"Is that what?" I replayed him in my mind, the clenched jaw, the hidden hands, the nerves. He was scared of me rejecting him. Him! With the suit and the looks and the brain and those eyes! Oh, and the voice... Jesus, that voice.

He was mad.

He was utterly mad.

—-Sherlock's POV—-