Experiments (Sherlock BBC- Johnlock Fanfic)

19- Riding Trains

~Sherlock~

My time at Scotland Yard had left me disgruntled. Yet again, the object that had scratched the wall had left no residue, no footprints or fingerprints. To top it all off, bloody Anderson had decided not to turn up to work, so the background checks on local chemists, chemical engineers, high school science teachers and lecturers from around London had not been completed.

Bloody Anderson.

John had followed quietly, and seemed hesitant to ask questions or help, but I did not mind. Somehow, having him there took the edge off of my frustration.

As we left Scotland Yard and stood outside in the rain on the curb, John looked up at me.

"So, what on earth could we do for the rest of the day?"

He smiled at me sheepishly. His hair was messy and wet and his light eyes crinkled. My gaze drifted to his pink lips and I grew nervous. Was I going to tell him? How on earth did I begin.

"Sherlock are you alright?"

My eyes snapped back up to his, as he looked at me in concern. I couldn't do it. Not now. Not with him looking at me like that.

He reached out and touched my arm softly, and I shivered. He wasn't supposed to make me feel like this. He was straight for gods sake!

I knew I couldn't be around him any longer. I couldn't push any words out my mouth and I could feel my breathing grow faster. I hated this feeling, whatever it was.

So I ran.

"Sherlock!" John called after me, but I didn't stop.

I stopped after an indefinite amount of time, soaked and panting, head spinning. Unaware of my surroundings, I looked around and saw a sign pointed to a train station. I brought myself a ticket and sat slumped and cold in the corner of the train and waited for my stop, which unluckily was last. I cleared my head by deducing my fellow passengers. It was not a bad way to pass the time.

~John~

He'd been gone for hours. What on earth was his problem? Why did he just run away from me like that? What did I do.

I paced the flat tirelessly. Doesn't he know how I worry about him?

I was startled by a loud bagging as the daw flew open. Sherlock was soaked, dripping on the floor, his curls hanging heavily around his pale face and blue lips.

"Oh Sherlock... Where have you been?"

"Riding the trains."

I shook my head at his vague description as he hung his dripping coat on the rack. Tutting, I pulled it off and held it, ready to wash it for him.

When I looked back at him I saw that his white shirt was soaked through, giving me a good view of his pale, defined stomach. The shirt hugged his wide shoulders and I could not stop staring.

"What's wrong John? Like what you see?"

I grumbled in reply and stared at the ground, my ears turning red. So what if I did?

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?" I finally managed to say.

His eyes fixed on mine.

"John something's been bothering me."

I snickered.

"Oh really? I had no idea," I replied sarcastically.

"John I need to talk to you," he said, his voice serious and low. When his eyes met mine I could tell how serious he was.

I inhaled sharply, feeling nervous.

"Is it good or bad Sherlock?"

He looked down at his feet.

"Very, very bad."

I could feel my heartbeat pick up. I knew what was wrong. He knew how I felt about him. Donna must have told him, or he... deduced. And now he was going to tell me that he wasn't interested. He was going to tell me that he didn't want to be around me.

"Then I don't want to hear about it," I said firmly. He looked at me in surprise.

"Ever."

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his transparent shirt showing the ripples of his shoulder muscles as he moved.

"But John..."

"No Sherlock. Anyway, we have other matters to deal with. Lestrade called."

He uttered some colourful phrases and kicked the wall.

"We have to go now!" He tried to wrestle his coat off me.

"Sherlock you're going to track water all over the crime scene. Go get showered and I'll call a cab."

He frowned at me.

"Since when were you my mother?" He grumbled.

"Since you started needing one."

He sighed and walked back to his room, shirt right around his lean back. He stopped halfway and looked back at me.

"Hey John... thanks. I guess I appreciate your motherly tendencies."

"You better bloody appreciate it you big sap. Now get changed!"

He laughed and dramatically ran into his room. With a small smile I put his coat in the washing basket.

I had to make sure I appreciated every moment with him, before he told me my crush on him made him uncomfortable and that I should leave. I had to make these last few days before he told me perfect.