Title: Doctor Watson - Sentinel

Characters: Sherlock/John (based on BBC version, slash implied, non-graphic)

MY Inspiration: Sherlock-BBC (all T.V., Movie or Book version), Sentinel (T.V. Series)

Disclaimer: This is my standard disclaimer; I don't own anything in regards to the sources of MYInspiration. All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

All the characters, worlds, base concepts or general ideas are just a bit food for the writing bug. This story is pure fiction and is in no way meant to copy or reflect real life, events or people, should this happen then obviously it is pure coincidence.

Warning: See author profile for preferred pairing type.

Summary: (S1 BBC, Episode 02, RE-WRITE!) Sentinels and Guides have been in existence for years. Newly activated individuals must go for training or even re-training in their chosen fields, in order to be fully functioning members of society. Dr. John Watson doesn't want any old kind of training.

Speech Legend: (This is the standard by which I write my stories and therefore you will not see this repeated in future chapters)


Sherlock - Holmes - John - Watson

CH 1

Sherlock - Holmes - John - Watson

"You must understand Doctor Watson," the clerk at the Sentinel Centre (SC) said, as she shuffled the papers and putting most away in his file. "Re-training is available to you, but surely you're interested in learning something that will be less taxing on your newly enhanced senses."

"Look," John explained. "I need to be retrained in this field so that I may better endure my flatmate's eccentricities. I need to be better prepared for the eventual day that he brings home pickled body parts for his numerous experiments because I don't believe that his curiosity will be curbed by the fact that I'm a Sentinel, in fact I know it won't. If I don't get used to the extremes presented in the Forensic Pathology field then I know that I'd be quite useless in my regular field anyway. I can't return to be a surgeon or work on live bodies because of the trauma I received to my left shoulder. I have ghost twinges in my left hand, but I can certainly work with the dead. I can still be a General Practitioner, too, in some locum clinic, but I need the intense training for forensics first because of my senses."

"But..." the clerk was stumped and her immediate supervisor appeared to take over for the poor confused girl. "What about your Guide? Doesn't he or she have a say in what you're choosing?"

"Leave it Beth," her supervisor, Doctor Matthews said. "I'll take over from here, you run along for your break now."

"Yes sir," Beth said and looked back at John in confusion about his specialized request for re-training.

Doctor Matthews looked at the thirty something Doctor John H. Watson, who had just entered their centre four days ago to declare that he was a partially activated, Sentinel. A status that was rare and unquantifiable since those that made such a declaration were usually the ones that the romantics talked and wrote stories about. It involved more than claiming their Guides, since those that declared such a status were all about courting their Guides first.

"John," he said. "I have to ask, are you sure about this?"

John sighed and nodded. "I'm a Doctor and my certification is still valid. I do want to continue in my field, but I don't know what else to do. I could apply at a private or community clinic, but I do need to be free from schedules at the moment. If I can be re-trained in pathology and forensics then I'd be of greater use to my flatmate."

"A Sentinel would never retrain that way to please someone that wasn't their Guide," Doctor Matthews observed. "Are you sure that he isn't?"

"We haven't discussed the matter," John replied and looked away to gather his thoughts. "I don't want anyone pushing or urging him into any kind of bonding thing with me. If he is my Guide, then I'll be the one to let him know because it's my business to do so, as his Sentinel. However my activated senses are not constant yet, so if I could re-train in what I can for now, I believe it would be for the best. I won't be able to, if we've developed some kind of routine in the future."

Doctor Matthews sighed and prayed, 'Save me from stubborn Sentinels.' He nodded and made several notations in John's file. "All right then," he said. "We'll contact you with the course information, dates and times, but you must be present at all of them or else you'll be forced to pay for them yourself." He shuffled the papers and said, "You're already a medical Doctor and a surgeon, so you won't have many more courses or seminars to attend considering how much you already know of the human anatomy. You'll be retested in it too. Much of the courses will be to re-train you with the use of your senses, if you want that knowledge to count in your chosen field and in the courts of law. We'll send you the schedule of those dates and times to the email address we have on file, is it still valid?"

"Thank you, yes it is," John said. "It's probably best to do it that way." He was relieved that he didn't have that many more hoops to jump through. He still needed to move out of the veteran boarding house, but before that happened he knew that he'd need to clean 221B from to bottom first.

'Fake drugs bust or not Sherlock was definitely concerned,' he thought. 'I'll not put up with that type of temptation in our flat either.'

"You should discuss your situation with your flatmate," Doctor Matthews advised. "Can he help you, if you do zone?"

"Yes, he's recorded as an active Guide with the Guide Council (GC), I believe," John said, as he put on his coat. "He's helped me before, but I don't believe that I've ever really zoned deeply. He didn't have to do much to get me out of one, so far."

"So far being the key words here," Doctor Matthews said and he held out his hand. "I'll do my best to get this done as soon as possible for you. The schedule will be erratic and it would be best for you to do some of the study independently for the certification tests. You should mention this to him anyway and we'll need his contact information in case you have difficulties during the sessions. It would be ideal, if he attended some of the more intense forensic classes with you though, do you think he'd be interested?"

"I know a few people that can get me into the University Libraries to study independently," John said, as he shook the man's hand before getting ready to leave. "It's the practicals that I'm missing." He paused to think about the last question. "He might be interested, but it's something that I'd have to discuss with him before all else."

"We can arrange for you to do assisting work in various police morgues, unpaid though," the other Doctor said. "That should help you with getting your senses acclimated to that kind of environment. If you need work, we can place you in a local clinic for the time being. May I ask why a change in specialty?"

"There is a demand for it and I find myself curious about that particular field of study," John explained.

"I don't quite believe you," Doctor Matthews said and he waved it away. "I don't need the whole truth. Not here. It's fine, now off with you so we can set this up for you, the sooner the better, eh? Oh, if you need a job, contact us, and we'll set you up at a locum clinic near you, but only for half-salary, I'm afraid because you're opting re-train." He handed the newly registered Sentinel his business card.

"I truly appreciate that, thank you," John said, as he tucked the card into his wallet for future reference. He left the building feeling much better about a lot of things. He still had to finally move into Baker Street, but at least the rent issue had been resolved. He wasn't too sure about letting his flatmate experiment with his senses, though.

Sherlock - Holmes - John - Watson

Flashback - Dim Sum & Fortune Cookies

Sherlock ate like he'd been starving for a while, which was entirely possible since he'd told John that he rarely ate when on a case. "I don't normally eat," the younger man said. "Because it takes away important brain functions for my cases and I can't be bothered to fix anything to eat during such a time anyway."

"You do know that I'm an actual Doctor, right," John said and received a look that said, 'Of course I know, I'm not an idiot.' He returned the look and said, "I'm not your parent and you're a grown man, but I do know that from time to time, I may harp on the fact that you don't eat. You did say that we should know the worst about each other before we move in together. A person's health is something that I notice."

"So I did," Sherlock said and leaned forward. "Tell me more!"

"I like things clean and tidy, but am willing to confine it to my designated bathroom and bedroom," John said. "You clean your room and on-suit, since I know that you've already claimed them. We'll both keep the kitchen and main room clean."

"How could you possibly know that I...," Sherlock asked, as he looked in the direction of the bedroom he'd claimed. He was fascinated about that knowledge since the good doctor hadn't been in the flat more than a couple of times in the last two days. They interacted mostly in the sitting room among the younger man's belongings that still haven't been moved or properly stored away.

"This place smells of you, more than any previous owner or even Mrs. Hudson," John informed him. "I took a quick look around while waiting for the GPS locator to boot up and track the Pink Lady's phone that the murderer had."

"About your senses," Sherlock said. "Can I test you?"

"What?" John choked on his dim sum. "What are you talking about?"

"Can I run some tests on your senses," Sherlock looked like a child in a candy store with fingers visibly twitching. "No Sentinel has ever been re-tested by the Centres. I've always wanted to do some tests of my own, but most unattached Sentinels at Uni were touchy about my questions. The SC doesn't keep records of which sense are the strongest per Sentinel, unless you're in the military," he paused and then continued. "Can I look at your military Sentinel testing records? What level are you? Not that it matters, since the levels don't truly cover everything about Sentinels and Guides anyway."

"About that," John said, after he'd sipped some weak tea. "I was never tested by the military."

"What, but you're..." Sherlock looked at the man and then questioned. "You were never tested by the military for your activated senses! That's not possible, how is that possible?"

"I activated long after I was discharged," John told him truthfully. "I activated as a civilian and the SC is not aware of it, either," he held up hand and continued. "Only because I have not told them anything about it."

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. He didn't know how to respond to that at the moment, so he took a mouthful of his noodles to ponder what he'd just learned. He looked at John and asked, "Are you going to tell them?"

"I have to," the Doctor replied. "I want to be re-trained in the use of my active senses in my chosen field. They'll also want to rate me on that scale of theirs too." He shrugged because he didn't believe that it mattered where someone was on the testing scale they used to gauge the Sentinel levels.

"Can I be there when they test you," Sherlock asked.

"I'm not sure," John said. "My records at the SC show me as being GNA with a low probability of activation. They may believe that because I activated so late that I'll be a low level Sentinel anyway and maybe they'll leave me alone, but I just don't know. If they do choose to test me, I won't mind you coming along with me, if you want to be there."

"Do you believe that you're a low level Sentinel," Sherlock asked.

"Don't rightly know," John said, as he inhaled the spicy scent of their meal. "I can tell you that it's pretty cool smelling the distinct spices used in our meal, but it's not quite fun to smell the fact that the cook in the Restaurant had stepped in something foul, three days before cooking our meal."

"You're still eating it," Sherlock pointed out. He had the look of someone studying a specimen under a microscope, while wondering just what it was and how it did what it did.

"I'm hungry from all that running around tonight," John replied with a grin. "I could also be wrong about that little fact. It could have been some other person or customer there that had the problem with their shoes. I'd rather not think about it anymore at this point."

"Fascinating," Sherlock said. "So can I test you?"

"I'll think about it," John said. "I have to go to the SC first. If they choose to test me, then I'll get a copy of their results for you. How does that sound?"

"Boring," Sherlock replied with a small pout. "I wanted to come up with the parameters myself."

"If they plan to test me, I'll text you and let you decide whether to show up or not," John said. He then told his new friend another option. "If I bring back the results, you'll get to see what they tested me on, how they did it and then you can choose a different series of tests, but nothing extreme." He felt like he was going to regret this. "I get to veto any test that I feel is unsafe or if I've zoned too many times in one day, is that clear?"

Sherlock waved his concern away. "Yes, yes, so long as I can do something interesting with those senses of yours. So when do you think you can move in?"

"I'll move in, after your clutter is put away in some semblance of order," John said. "If it's not done within the next five days, then I'll be the one doing it without your input or tolerate any complaint after the fact, deal?"

"Deal," Sherlock replied with a grin. He opened up his cookie and read, "Truth is an unpopular subject. Because it is unquestionably correct." He humphed and said, "That was so obvious."

John chuckled and then before he read his, he said, "Care to guess?"

"Something about good fortune coming your way," Sherlock told him.

"There is a prospect of a thrilling time ahead of you," John read. He laughed and asked, "You mean there's more to come?" They both laughed, as they put away their takeaway boxes and parted ways for the next little bit.

Sometime in the morning, days after John had visited the SC, who hadn't tested him in his senses because they actually assumed that his level was low on their registration scale, he wasn't surprised to find the flat empty of his flatmate and only some of the clutter had been put away. There had been a note on the table telling him that his new flatmate had left London to follow up a case he had in the country and that he'd be back in a few days.

The good doctor had shown up that day, with a bag full of cleaning supplies just in case. He whirl-winded his way through the flat, his upstairs room and the bathroom that he'd claimed were cleaned to near hospital standards. He tackled the kitchen and re-sorted most of Sherlock's papers and books, in order to make room for his own novels and study material on the bookshelves. There were twelve available shelves floor to ceiling on either side of the fire place. He only wanted a couple within reach for himself.

He left and then came back that same day with a rented lorry to unpack much of his meagre personal possession in order to settle quickly into the new flat. Now all he had to do was to wait for his bed to arrive, before fully settling in at 221B Baker Street.

The bed he'd ordered was a queen size. An unnecessary indulgence, but one that he felt he was entitled to and that he knew he'd need should he ever claim his Guide. At least it was one of those new split box-spring things that worked well to get the whole of it up the two flights of narrow stairs. The large deep foam mattress was more manageable since it was more pliable.

Little did he know that he may come to regret the purchase, financially speaking!

Sherlock - Holmes - John - Watson

Flash Forward - About Few Months Later

For the past month, John had been attending sessions to upgrade his Doctorate to include a specialty in the Forensics field. When he attended the pre-paid sessions, paid by the SC and the Government, he wasn't making any money. Even his small pension was not going to be nearly enough in the near future, especially to get the bare necessities to live on.

Perusing one of the morning's newspapers that they normally received, he noted that there was a Chinese exhibition of an ancient set of clay teapots at the British Museum. The exhibit included a display of the ceremony that the ancient people used to do back in the time of the Ming Dynasty.

John was amused to read that, as he drank his own weak tea without milk because the milk had been used in some experiment or other. The tea was also very weak because he'd been managing his tea bags in order to get the most out of them before going to the store for more. He hadn't been able to purchase proper tea that required the lovely strainer with the porcelain handle that his mum had given him long ago when he'd been accepted as a pre-Med student.

He currently had a small lull in his re-training schedule now. He was grateful for it because he needed to go get some basic groceries, including some Sentinel friendly cleaning supplies, as his senses were becoming more troublesome the longer he lived with Sherlock. His roommate was sitting in the room with him, pondering on whether the case of some strange missing diamond was worth the effort to turn his mind to the subject or not.

"I'm leaving now," John said. "We need a few things."

"Boring," Sherlock replied.

"Boring or not, they're still necessary," John said in a growly, but not angry tone of voice. "Later!"

Sherlock sat in his chair, as he heard the door shut. He glared at the computer screen bored with the explanation and the situation that had been presented him about the missing diamond. He had several different people request his help for their petty little mysteries, but he was very selective in his choices. He knew about John's concern for money, but truly the only interesting one, so far, with the large enough pay-off needed to ease his John's mind, was in London and had come from someone he absolutely detested.

Apparently someone had entered a high-rise financial building and left some kind of graffiti behind. The interesting part of that one was the fact that it was an extremely secure building and the task of vandalism would be difficult and tricky, even for the above average thief. Only nothing was stolen, just some type of graffiti left behind, on the inside of an extremely high security office too.

The other source of marginal interest was a mystery of something missing called the Jaria diamond, which had sounded interesting, but unfortunately, they'd both have to visit Dubai in order to solve that particular case. The world's only Consulting Detective and Guide, Sherlock wasn't going to interrupt his flatmate's schedule for educational re-training just to go visit an exotic location no matter how interesting the case sounded.

They could have gone, but he knew how the SC operated. They'd have taken away John's financial support, which was something that he wouldn't deny his flatmate. He refused to leave the country without John because he'd felt that the man would come to trouble without him in the vicinity. The reason and feeling for that defied his careful, logic filled mind, which was another perfectly good reason to remain where they were. He put it down to the Guide in him, needing to protect the Sentinel, despite the lack of a bond between the two of them.

Plus the re-training was another way for the SC to test their Sentinels that had never taken government positions. Not that he mentioned any of this to the good Doctor. He just hacked their records to track how well Dr. Watson was doing in his courses and to review the man's file. So far the man was quite run of the mill and mediocre in Sentinel measurement levels.

That had been a surprise to him, since whenever John was on a mild case of criminal chasing with him, the man's senses were very sharp. They were much sharper than his thin records indicated and he wondered why that was.

He had to acknowledge that they hadn't tested him fully, though. The notes related to his John's levels were only based on what the others observed when the doctor was in class and learning to use his senses for his civilian life.

The younger man's solitude and contemplation of that morning, had then been suddenly interrupted by an exotic messenger, completely kitted out like a true Sihk warrior, typical curved sword and all. He'd already declined the diamond mystery once, but now they were trying to persuade him in the most physical manner.

Sherlock sighed, stood up and said in the man's presumed native tongue, (...I said no. When I say no, I mean no...)

(...My lord does not recognize your reply...) The warrior said. (...If you do not come with me, my instructions are clear. You follow me or you die...) He lunged forward and made an honest attempt to kidnap Sherlock, who only dodged out of the way.

(...Declined, in both cases...) Sherlock said. (...Kindly show yourself out or...) He never had the chance since the man shouted at him.

(...THEN YOU WILL DIE!...) He swung his sword and the fight was on in earnest.

Sherlock - Holmes - John - Watson

Meanwhile, John was having difficulties paying for his purchases at the self-service chip and pin machine at the local Tesco. He was first in line to the device. He started out just fine, but soon nearly every other item had the obnoxious machine stating, "Item not scanned. Please try again."

John repeated the motion of scanning, only at a slower pace.

"Item not scanned. Please try again."

The voice of the machine was a little loud and when he looked behind him, it seemed that a small line was forming, since many had noticed that he was almost finished with his purchases.

John looked back at the machine and mumbled, "You think maybe you could keep your voice down?"

Sherlock - Holmes - John - Watson

Back at the flat, Sherlock was physically and vocally telling the warrior to piss off. It wasn't working, since he fell onto the table, but he moved away quickly, so that the blade nicked it instead of his arteries.

Sherlock - Holmes - John - Watson

At the market, John was now attempting to pay for the stuff he'd scanned. He was flustered because his card was not working.

"Card not authorized, please seek alternative methods of payment." He blushed and heard everyone behind him sigh. Most moved to another line to pay for their items, while he tried again. "Card not authorized..."

He put his card away and then looked through his wallet in desperation for emergency change or something of that nature. The machine had no card, but it still said again. "Card not authorized. Please seek..."

"Yeah, yeah," John yelled at it. "I've got it. All right!" It was at this point that a clerk intervened and he apologized. "I'm sorry. I'll just..." He waved at the door and the clerk nodded.

"We can hold onto your bagged items, if you think can come back to pay for them within the next half hour," the young clerk said.

"Yeah," John said. "I can do that, yeah...uh... I mean please!" The clerk nodded and placed the purchases on hold with a switch of a key in order to let others pay for their items. While John quickly left the Tesco to return to his flat, hoping that Sherlock had cash on him or something.

Sherlock - Holmes - John - Watson

Meanwhile, Sherlock had managed to subdue his attacker. He huffed and said one last time, (...I said no, not at this time. So take that message back to your Lord...)

'If you still can,' he thought with a pleased smirk.

Sherlock - Holmes - John - Watson

John quickly returned to 221B Baker Street and immediately scented the sweat that another person had left behind in their flat. He turned to his flatmate and said, "You're not fooling me. Who was here and what did they want?"

"Better than a blood hound," Sherlock grinned. He secretly loved it when John noticed something with his senses. "Just someone that wouldn't take no for an answer," and then he noticed that his flatmate came back empty handed. "You took your time."

"I didn't get the shopping," John confessed.

"What?" Sherlock looked surprised. "Why not?"

John sighed and said, "Because I had a row...in the shop...with a chip and pin machine."

"You had a row," Sherlock looked perplexed, but was grinning at the same time. "...with a machine?"

"Sort of," John answered, as he rubbed the back of his head. "It sat there and I shouted abuse at it. Listen, have you got any cash?"

"Take my card," Sherlock nodded to the wallet on the table. It fell out of his pocket during his fight, but somehow it landed on the table, as though he had placed it there.

John rifled through the wallet and placed the credit card in his own. He'd experience in copying Sherlock's writing by now because the crazy man had insisted on it, in case of emergency, which would be useful, such as for today and the irritating man had also learned John's own writing for a similar purpose.

"You know, you could always go yourself. It might stop unwanted company from visiting," John suggested in a half-hearted tone.

Sherlock just looked at him like he's some kind of experiment.

"Hmph," John noised. "What happened about that case you were offered? The Jaria diamond, wasn't it?"

"Not interested," Sherlock said, as he pushed the swordsman's sword further under the couch and away from John's sharp eyes.

John spotted the nick in the table and knowing that it didn't belong to either of them and that it hadn't been there before he'd left to pick up some shopping. He said, "Mrs. Hudson's going to make us pay for property damage and I saw that. I'll just pick up some brackets for it with the shopping, shall I? It should look well on the wall, maybe above the mantle?" He grinned at the younger man who sat there open mouthed in surprise, before he left with a volley of, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Sherlock then picked up John's laptop, keyed himself into it quite easily and began to browse the older man's recent searches.

John returned about ten minutes later with the same bagged groceries that he'd been attempting to buy for a good part of the morning. He walked into the kitchen and dropped the bags on the counter with a huff. He took off his jacket and started to put much of it away, although some stayed out so he could label them as, 'NO!', 'Not for experiment!' and 'Stay away, Sherlock!'

It worked some of the time, which was all right by him, since his fickle flatmate replaced the used items some of the time too. Although, what he replaced it with was the wrong thing most of the time like a good English Earl Grey tea for some weird mix of Green Tea and Pomegranate. It was sweeter and tasted more like grass than a true tea blend, to John's mind. He still drank it though because he didn't want to discourage the younger man from replacing the items he appropriated for experimental purposes.

He looked up and noticed that his flatmate was surfing on the web. He knew that he was surfing, due to the lack of keys clicking. "Is that my computer?"

"Of course," Sherlock said.

"What," John asked. "Why?"

"Mine is in the bedroom," Sherlock stated, as if that explained everything.

"...and you couldn't be bothered to go get it, after you dumped that foreigner's body out of the window," John said. The other man just looked up and blinked at him with comment, before returning to what he was reading.

"It is password protected," John said.

"In a manner of speaking," Sherlock told him. "Took me less than a minute to guess yours...Not exactly Fort Knox is it?"

John paused in his food labeling. "You guessed my password?"

"It was one of forty-three," Sherlock explained.

"What," John came into the living room. He needed to hear this.

"Types of password, that people like you commonly use," Sherlock said. "There are only forty-three."

John huffed and said, "What does that mean? 'People like me'."

Sherlock looked at him and said, "Ordinary."

"Stupid," John said. He returned to the kitchen to put away the rest of the food and sundries. "Better change it, I guess."

"There's no point," Sherlock said softly. Too softly for a normal human to hear, but he was curious about his flatmate's hearing abilities. He kept a mental record of most sense reactions that he'd seen the Doctor exhibit. He still hadn't been able to outright test him, but he was storing up potential experimental procedures for the future based on his current observations.

"No," John replied normally. "I suppose not."

Sherlock grinned and made a mental note. 'Hears sub-vocally, check. Range of noise to be further tested. Note to self, buy a dog whistle.' He returned to his perusal of the internet and came across the following web address . . "Interesting," he said. "I see you've started a blog..."

"You...you're reading it," John asked in a wary tone.

"Imperious', not a word I've ever been called before," Sherlock said. "Curiously, I don't dislike it."

"I said some nice stuff about you too," John defended his choice of words. "I said you knew some good restaurants."

"You're right about the public school, but I do not look twelve," Sherlock said in a slightly offended tone. He even glared at the computer screen.

"No, not with your height," John said. "You do have that twelve year old, impish quality though."

"What," Sherlock looked up from what he was reading, only to have the computer snatched from his hands. He huffed and said, "You didn't even write about being an activated Sentinel."

"Didn't need that advantage advertised to the criminals you intend to drag me along to find or chase, now did I," John said, as he climbed the stairs to put away his laptop in his room.

Sherlock mentally agreed and the laid back on the couch to calculate when he'd likely next be able to access his flatmate's portable computer.

Sherlock - Holmes - John - Watson


(...i...) Most of the conversations in this story will be direct from the episode, as I'll try to find a way to change or alter the path of this story. This story is just a basic re-write with a few new elements incorporated and only because I find the idea of the Sentinel Universe mixed with Sherlock to be a strangely appealing one.