A Study in Miscommunication

Chapter 4

—- John's POV—-

I'd forgotten just how much I hate shopping. Everything was far more complicated than it should be because I'd lost weight and my measurements were off. I'd been out of the country and didn't watch enough telly since I'd been back to know what was fashionable for men my age. You stood around too long looking at clothing the salespeople would flock to you. Was it really that hard to leave someone alone? I'd have thought with it being a Saturday they'd have other people to bother.

Then there was the expense of clothing. When did everything become so expensive? I wasn't in Afghanistan all that long, was I?

On top of all that apparently coats were a winter clothing item and a lot of the stores had already cleared them out for spring merchandise. It was asinine. It was cold and rainy and most places only had jumpers. One store had some pea coats but I didn't want Sherlock reading too much into that. I still didn't know if he could do everything he said he could (most people tended to exaggerate) but it was better to be safe.

Finally, I found a reasonable looking heavy jacket that fit decently. It was black, with no ungodly patterns or weird zips, the leather accents were tasteful and it was nice and warm. Plus it was on sale. Once I checked out I looked at my watch and reasoned I had enough time to run over to pick up some pants.

I tried calling Sherlock (his number was on the website) but he didn't answer. I wanted to see the flat in daylight. I also needed to see him earlier. He turned rather ethereal in the dark and although that was intriguing it would be nice to make sure he was human.

When I made it to the store there was one package left in my size. I looked for other designs, boxer briefs or ANYTHING else but there was nothing. The store was having a massive sale on pants and there was only one grubby mangled package that would fit me.

I'd been mostly joking about buying red pants when the thought crossed my mind earlier. I certainly didn't have these in mind. They looked like they were made for children. The other pants in the package were black on black and black on navy. They were fine. Why would they ever manufacture red y-front pants with white... "Urgh."

I could just bin them and keep the other two but it'd be such a waste. There was nothing wrong with them except the colour. If only they'd just put red on instead of white! It was overly juvenile. I would have just walked away but my other pants had holes in them. It had been far too long since I'd had to worry about the state of my pants and now...

Well, maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. I didn't know the first thing about fashion and pants were pants. I couldn't be choosy on a time limit. I checked my watch. If Sherlock called me back I was running low on time.

Fuck it. I decided to buy the pants and take a cab. After all, they were on sale.

—-Sherlock's POV—-

A urine sample later I was sitting in Lestrade's office waiting for the man to finish wasting his time testing things he already knew. He'd left his computer up and Donovan had run off instead of watching me. Understandable. She loathed me after- Stop it! I managed to choke an apology out before she left at least.

Distraction.

Ah, of course. I set about finding every available record I could for John Watson. His name was overly common, irritating. I knew his middle initial from his blog and military record and that helped me narrow the list down.

His police record was relatively spotless as they went. A few fights in secondary but nothing ever came of them, of course. Just a kid.

My mobile rang. Mrs H I ignored it. It was far too early for John to be there.