Many Things but Never Dull
Summary: There are some things John won't get used to. Death Note/Sherlock crossover
A/N: Because someone had to write it and the plotbunnies wouldn't let me work on my regular project until I did. This is totally unbeta'd, but if someone would like to volunteer for the future, please drop me a line. No, I will not fix my grammar but present/past tense, continuity and spelling errors will be rectified if someone would just kindly point them out to me.
Takes place after The Great Game and after L: Change the World (which I didn't see) but before the first movie.
John had gotten used to the body parts in the fridge. He'd gotten used to being the one that did the shopping and he'd gotten used to the mess. Having girlfriends would always be hit and miss because Sherlock would alternate between interrupting any and all private moments and implying they were gay together, but John had gotten used to that too.
The one thing he would never get used to was the strange people that turned up at their flat.
"I like your blog," said the hunched-over figure crouched in John's chair in perfectly unaccented if slightly muffled English. It wasn't that this person was completely barefoot, in winter. It wasn't that he'd apparently broken into their flat (John was pretty sure they'd locked the door before going out). It wasn't even that this person had decided to squeeze himself into John's chair in a painfully unnatural position. John saw stranger things every morning before breakfast. No, the thing that really struck John about this (man? Possibly, but he knew better than to assume) person was the mask. The large, face covering, childish mask.
"Hello!" Sherlock said brightly and pushed past John into the living room. "What are you doing here? I thought you were busy with that thing in the place with that man."
"Boring," the masked figure waved a hand dismissively. "It was over in an hour. I got back on the same plane I arrived on," Sherlock made a sympathetic noise. "How's work with Scotland Yard?"
"Dull," Sherlock shrugged. "After the Moriarty Case we haven't seen anything truly worth my talents, but you know how they would be lost without me."
"Of course. Did they ever catch him?"
"Moriarty is dead," John spoke up for the first time since he'd opened the door. Sherlock and the masked man in his chair turned and looked at him. "They found the body."
"They found a body of similar description without a face and with mangled hands," Sherlock corrected. "They aren't sure if it's him or not, but considering all the identifying features suffered more damage than, say, his legs…"
"It's highly probable he escaped," the masked man finished. Sherlock looked at John as if just realizing that he was there.
"Oh I'm sorry, where are my manners? John this is… I'm sorry, what's your name today?"
"Still Eraldo Coil, actually," the masked figure answered agreeably.
"Right, John this is Eraldo Coil," John managed a smile and held out his hand like this wasn't the weirdest thing he'd ever done.
"Nice to meet you, I'm-"
"Dr. John Watson, ex-army doctor from Afganistan," 'Eraldo' answered, looking at John's hand but pointedly not taking it.
"Would you like some tea?" Sherlock offered, suddenly a good host. Eraldo seemed to perk up at that. "John, go make some tea. Oh, and see if that tin of biscuits is still around here somewhere," he turned back to the man in John's chair. "He makes the best tea."
"You have sugar?" Eraldo asked carefully.
"John did the shopping yesterday, I'm sure he remembered sugar."
The next two hours were the strangest John had experienced since meeting Sherlock. He sat on the couch watching as Eraldo Coil and Sherlock talked about things that they'd done over the years without ever actually mentioning the name of another person or location. Eraldo put a seventh sugar cube in his cup of tea and, lifting his mask only enough to reveal his mouth, and tasted the concoction.
"Ah, that's better."
"So what are you doing here? Don't tell me that Scotland Yard is trading me in for you," Sherlock tried to make it sound like a joke but John had known him long enough to know that it wasn't.
"No no. I'm visiting friends in Essex and remembered you were here. I've been following Dr. Watson's blog," the mask swiveled to face John and John forced a pleasant smile onto his face.
"You like it?" He managed to ask.
"Oh yes. I think perhaps your descriptions of Sherlock's methods are…" he paused, searching for a word. "Less accurate than one would hope, but over all a very nice way to waste time."
John wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not but he decided it was meant to be taken as one.
"Don't get much around here that would interest you, though," Sherlock interjected, saving John from coming up with a response. The mask swiveled back around.
"Nothing that I would get directly involved in," Eraldo agreed. "But it's nice to know that you're keeping busy. Not falling into old habits…"
"No no," Sherlock waved the comment away and gestured toward John. "The good doctor here wouldn't allow it. I don't even smoke anymore."
"Good. Your brother said you weren't returning his texts and asked me to make sure you weren't… how did he put it?"
" 'Falling off the wagon into a mud puddle and drowning in it'?" Sherlock finished for him. The masked man nodded.
"Mycroft is so predictable… did he offer you money to check in on me with your network?" Sherlock asked casually. The other man lifted the front of his mask again and ate another of John's Turkish Delights and spoke with his mouth still full, making the muffled effect even worse.
"He might have planned to, but I hung up after the wagon bit," 'Eraldo' stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around. John suppressed the urge to tell him it wasn't good for him.
"He actually called you?"
"Oh no, of course not. His assistant… I think her name today is Anathema – I wonder if she knows what that means – called. It sounded like she might have been reading the message off her blackberry at the time," a buzzing sound stopped John from finally getting fed up and asking just what the hell was going on. 'Eraldo' dug around in his pocket and produced a cell phone that he held up with his thumb and forefinger. "Ah, Watari is here."
'Eraldo' stood before John could ask what a Watari was and, still hunched as though he was walking through a storm, went to the door.
"Do let me know if I can ever be of assistance," Sherlock said without standing. 'Eraldo' turned back and nodded at him.
"Perhaps I'll drop by again. It was nice to meet you Dr. Watson," and with that he was gone. Sherlock made a thoughtful sound and stood, disappearing into the kitchen.
"Er, Sherlock," John called after him. The dark mop of hair reappeared. "What the hell was that? Another enemy of yours?" Sherlock opened his mouth to respond but stopped suddenly.
"What?" Tired and annoyed John slumped back on their couch as Sherlock disappeared again.
"Well we're acquaintances… did a case a few years ago together but, I guess you could say he's… a friend."
John dropped the cup and box of Turkish Delights (what was left of them).
"But I thought you didn't have friends… other than me," John said startled.
"Neither did I," Sherlock called back from whatever he was doing. John sighed and went back to cleaning up the coffee table. He supposed this was just one of the things he would have to get used to, living with Sherlock Holmes.