May Your Heart Purr Like A Bumblebee [BBC Sherlock - Johnlock]

Chapter 4

John and Sherlock have become Harry’s pet project. She is obsessed. Every time Sherlock goes out on his own, she holds a strategy session with John.

Unfortunately, Harry’s expertise in matters related to Sherlock does not match her enthusiasm. “But he’s the world’s best detective,” she argues for the umpteenth time. “Surely he’ll notice if you flirt.”

“Sherlock isn’t the best with emotions,” John insists again. Which is being rather generous, actually. “And anyway, I have no idea how to go about it.”

“It’s not that hard, John. Flirting with men can’t be that different from flirting with women.”

“It’s not flirting with men. It’s flirting with Sherlock. He’s not like anyone else.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, all right, I’ll give you that. Well, what do you do with women? Let’s start there, anyway.”

“I ask them out, generally. But Sherlock and I already go out. He wouldn’t think anything of it if I asked him to dinner.”

“How else do you show interest?”

John sighs, thinks about it. “I, um, compliment them on what they’re wearing, I guess.” He has a line, also, where he asks them to tell him their secret ambition, but he’s not telling Harry that. It’s embarrassing, even if it seems to work well. “And I try to make them laugh.”

“He does have a flair for dressing well,” Harry observes.

John rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to start complimenting his shirts.”

“If you did, it might help signal that you’re not entirely straight. After all your protests, Sherlock probably doesn’t think you like men.”

“Probably.” John sighs again. Sighing and blushing have featured a bit too prominently in his life for his taste, as of late. He’s not usually much for either -- though his sister has always been good at embarrassing him. “But how am I supposed to indicate, ‘Okay, maybe a little gay?’ Wear brightly colored pants above the waist of my trousers?”

“Yes! That’s brilliant!”

“That was sarcasm, Harry.” He's not really sure how Sherlock would react to that, anyway, given that Moriarty was the last person to use that signal. But at least it was a signal that Sherlock had picked up on. (And, seeing how little value he attaches to sentiment, maybe he wouldn’t have any negative associations.) Still -- a ludicrous thought.

“Hmph. Well, you could go on a date with another guy. Just to show you’re open to it.”

“Not interested.”

“Come on," she wheedles. "You could do it. It wouldn’t be that awful.”

“I’m not worried about it being awful. I just don’t want to lead someone on that I have no interest in.”

She pauses. “Oh. That’s surprisingly good of you.”

“I’m a good bloke.”

“Yes you are, Little Brother.” She smiles at him fondly. “Well, don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.”

* * *

“That’s a nice shirt,” John blurts as they prepare to enter a crime scene that they have not technically been invited to.

“What?” Sherlock raises an eyebrow.

“It’s, um, a nice shade. Of purple. Um. Suits you.” John feels the arrival of the inevitable blush as he stutters.

Sherlock shakes his head, dismissing this irrelevancy. “Right. You wait here and keep an eye out. If you see Anderson coming, keep him away.”

John groans internally. Right. That went well. At least nothing distracts Sherlock from a case for long.