Voice of a Stranger (Johnlock)

The Talk

Come out to the pub! I'll buy you a drink. –GL

John laughed when he read the text from Greg.

It's almost 11. I have to be at the clinic in the morning. –JW

He was long past the age for drinking late during the week. Usually, Greg messaged him in the early evening if they were going to get together.

Just one drink, John. I'll even pay your taxi fare. –GL

Chuckling, John ran a hand through his hair, and looked around the quiet flat. Why not, one drink.

OK then, since you seem so desperate for my company. –JW

---

"John! You made it!" Greg smiled as John sat down at his table. The table was full of other Scotland Yard workers, and John nodded hello at everyone.

"Now, order whatever you want. You're the man of the hour." Greg waved down their server.

Pretty soon, John took a big sip of his Guinness. He didn't often drink it, but he got caught up in their celebratory mood. "So, why did you beg me to come down here?"

"Sherlock didn't tell you?" Greg asked, sounding surprised. "Oh, well, the git told us about your idea, and it checked out. We hauled her in for questioning and she completely cracked, confessing to everything."

John was stunned, and then a big smile spread across his face. "Astrid confessed?"

Greg nodded and the police officers were all patting him on the back and asking him how he got the idea. He felt great, basking in their praise and attention, feeling like a part of their group. But looking around the table, he couldn't get why Sherlock wasn't there too.

"Good job, John." Greg gave him a quick hug as he was getting ready to leave a little later.

John leaned in close to his ear. "You wouldn't happen to know where Sherlock is? I'm surprised he wasn't here."

Greg grinned. "You lost your boyfriend again? You really should get a GPS tracker on him or something."

"Boyfriend? No, we're just..." John started, almost out of reflex. The words died when he saw the disbelieving look Greg was giving him, and he couldn't keep from flushing. "Um...yeah. Well, I guess I'll see you later. Goodnight."

---

The apartment was empty when John got home. There were no text messages from Sherlock, and John felt a little miffed that Sherlock hadn't told him directly that Astrid was the murderer.

It was too late to text Sherlock now, so John went to bed.

When he got up, the flat was empty. Either Sherlock had left early, or he hadn't come home at all last night. Where was he?

John was tired of waiting though. He had put off The Talk until the case was done, and here they were.

Sherlock, I heard Astrid confessed, so the case is closed. I'll be home around 6pm tonight. Can you be home for our talk then? –JW,

There. It was out there.

A couple hours later, when John was working, a reply came.

OK. See you then. –SH

A mix of emotions swirled inside John the rest of his shift. Relief that he had replied and would be there. Fear. Excitement. Some nausea. Anxiousness. Positive thoughts about how things could be if the talk went well, followed by dark, sad thoughts if it didn't.