I like reviews. Be constructive. Be nice.
Story idea came from the song "Let U Know" by Plastilina Mosh. I feel that's how Sherlock would react if Joan were gone for some days.
Im bored. :/
-Talk to Angus.
AIBAB. He doesnt talk bck.
-What does that mean? And I'm kinda busy atm.
Wen r u coming bck? (AIBAB = Angus is being a bitch.)
- It's marked on the calendar. (Wow. Just wow.)
A couple of minutes passed before his text arrived.
We hve a calendar?! _
Joan resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but wasn't able to suppress a smile. She returned her attention to the speaker taking the floor and continued taking notes. This was the first medical conference she had attended in ages and although she had been hesitant at first, she figured she'd have to keep up her skills if she was going to help Sherlock full time.
The word still sounded weird even if she didn't say it out loud. The six weeks she'd been assigned to him flew by. It wasn't until the tenth week that she flipped through the calendar and noticed that she had over stayed her time.
Sherlock had smiled behind his telescope when she made note of the week they were on.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Joan leaned on the door frame and crossed her arms. "I could've have been outta your hair four weeks ago."
"Maybe I didn't want you out of my hair." He answered, scrawling in a battered notebook over his observations. "Maybe I like you in my hair."
He closed his notebook and eyed Joan from across the table, as if giving serious thought to the words he was going to use.
"The fact that you forgot the date you had to leave tells me you want to stay," he said with a smug grin.
Before Joan was able to say anything, Sherlock quickly added, "and I was afraid if I said anything you would leave and you leaving would, quite simply, suck."
Joan walked towards his table and took a seat. "I'm assuming I won't be your sobriety partner anymore."
Sherlock barked out a laugh. Only Joan was able to detect the underlined relief in it. He slouched on his seat, his lips forming into a pout. "Mmmm, how's partner sound?"
Joan gave a small nod of approval. "Sounds good."
Just like that, Joan had stopped being Sherlock's "body guard" and started being introduced as his partner. Sure tons of clients thought they were together in the romantic sense, but Sherlock wasn't bothered and she wasn't either. They knew what they had and that was enough.
She looked around the lecture hall. Rows upon rows of doctors sat clinging to the speakers every word. Joan began making small deductions here and there, wondering how many of those she'd hit on the dot and how many other's she'd missed. The loud creak of the double doors stole her attention; she looked down to her notes in disappointment. For the past three days she half expected Sherlock to barge through her doors and make a scene, giving her an excuse to leave early.
The truth was, although she enjoyed being among her peers, she missed the consulting detective.
My consulting five year old. She'd told him during a case, after Sherlock had made a fuss and got them kicked out of a five star restaurant. Sherlock blew a raspberry and lead the way to uncover the next clue.
Sighing deeply, she went back to her notes when her phone buzzed.
Found calendar. Marked my bday 4 u.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Her phone buzzed again.
I like cake. :)
Sherlock sent out the last text and rolled over to Angus. He'd spent the past three days sitting on the floor, looking through old case files and notebooks. His focus had jumped from case to case but wasn't held for too long. He alternated between talking to Angus and muttering to himself to concentrate on a subject. He played with his locks, then with the violin but it wasn't the same as before.
There was no point opening locks he already knew how to open, especially if Joan's footsteps didn't echo in the hallway or in her room. The violin was useless as well. He only played it for her, especially when the shadow of her past crossed her features and she'd stay silent, her breath quickening slightly. It was only after she'd hear the first few strands of Violin Romance that she'd smile and close her eyes, falling asleep as if nothing had happened.
He tried to go back to the routine he had without Joan, but soon realized there was no without Joan anymore and everything he used to do was not enough.
He pushed Angus under the couch and pulled Joan's blanket from the armrest. His plan was simple. He'd hibernate until she came back. Even if that meant sleeping through 48 hours.
Haven't slept for 72 hours, sleeping for 48 ought to even things out.
Sherlock didn't hear his phone ring or the buzz that came soon after.
The rich aroma coming from the kitchen pried his eyes open, but it was her soft footsteps that made him jump up in excitement.
He rushed to the kitchen, almost running into the two mugs of hot chocolate Joan was carrying.
"Hey there!" She said brightly, shoving a mug into his hands. "Made you some chocolate."
Sherlock blinked back the sleep from his eyes and studied Joan closely, following her from the kitchen and into the living room, wondering whether she was really there at all.
Joan took a seat on the couch and eyed Sherlock curiously. "Anything the matter?"
"Are you really here or am I dreaming?" He asked confused, taking a seat next to her. "I could have sworn the calendar said-"
"The conference was cut short," she interrupted, not meeting his eyes. "Took the first bus back."
Sherlock only nodded and took a drink from his mug; the warmth and the richness of the chocolate making him shiver in delight. He reached under the couch to retrieve Angus, when he noticed the missed call and text message on his phone. He opened the text and side-glanced Joan. He chuckled lightly and he put the phone in his pocket.
Joan gave him a puzzled look. "What?"
"You missed me." He announced smugly. "You missed me, got bored and left."
She took a sip from her drink and hid a smile. "Yeah, well you missed me, got bored and took a nap."
"I was hibernating, Watson, conserving my strength to be in optimum shape when you returned and we'd get called onto a case," he defended, "big difference."
"Right. Whatever." She stifled a yawn and rose to her feet. "Well I've just got off a long bus ride so if you'll excuse me, I'm about to hibernate too."
"I think I'll do the same," he followed her up the stairs. "Apart from the nap I took, I haven't slept in three days."
"Three days?!" She exclaimed from her door way. "Christ! Sherlock that is not okay."
"Yes Watson, got it, I'm going now." He closed his bedroom door, only to open it once Joan was tucking herself in.
He went back to his bed, his mattress squeaking under his weight. "Joan?"
She rolled towards her open door, "What?"
"I want to let you know," he called out from his bed, "that all this time I spent without you sucked."
She smiled into her pillow and answered, "Same here. Good night Sherlock"