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Fic: A Breed Apart

Title: A Breed Apart
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Rating: G
Characters: John Watson
Length: 525 words
Alternate Link: AO3
Author's Notes: Written for the watsons_woes JWP 2015 Prompt #27, "Aside from yourself, I have none." Sherlock Holmes is supposed to be the anti-social one with Watson as his only friend. But who are Watson's friends outside of Sherlock Holmes? Set during season 2. Unbeta'd.
Summary: "How can John be having a birthday dinner? All his friends hate him." - Sherlock Holmes

John sat, tipsy and smiling, looking round at all the friends who had come to his birthday dinner, and wondered if they all hated him, like it said in Sherlock's essay.

Probably. Sherlock was usually right, and John hated all of them, right now, so it was only fair. Two years ago he'd been laid up in hospital on his birthday; the nurses had brought him a cupcake from the canteen. Last year he'd had drinks down at The Volunteer with a half-dozen mates. This year Sherlock had got a bit famous, and John along with him. Everyone he'd asked (and you had to ask everyone) to his birthday dinner had said yes, and they'd ended up renting a large private dining room at The Strand.

There were lads from the rugby league, staff from the clinic, and police from the Yard. They all seemed to be having a good time. Sherlock wasn't here, of course. He was 'busy'.

John used to be good at this; asking after sick parents and teething babies, remembering birthdays, inviting friends out, buying rounds, the amiable slide from friend to lover and back. John Watson was a good friend.

He'd lost the knack, somewhere along the line. Maybe in the army, where your friends were the people who put their lives on the line for you every day. Or maybe it was since he'd met Sherlock.

John might be like one of those breeds of dog that would bond to one person, and only one.

John could be himself, with Sherlock. He could yammer on about whatever, and Sherlock would happily ignore him if it didn't interest him. John could be quiet, when the mood struck him, without Sherlock badgering him, asking if something was wrong. He didn't need to bite his tongue to hold back inappropriate comments – the more wrong it was, the better Sherlock liked it.

John could be dangerous around Sherlock. He could lose his temper and yell, and Sherlock would yell right back. When he woke up after a nightmare, cold and shaky and aching, he didn't have to say a word. Sherlock would see him and know. He'd play the violin, and insult the tele, and let John slowly come back to himself.

Sherlock had the right idea. You only needed one friend, if it was the right one.

John checked his watch. At least two hours until he could reasonably, politely, call it a night. John could fake a text from Sherlock, asking for his help on a case. Or slip out to the loo and pull the fire alarm. He could even slip out and start a fire. Nothing serious, but the dinner would have to break up if there was a real fire, right?

And Sherlock would take one look at him, when he got home, and he'd laugh.

No. John wasn't quite bored enough, or drunk enough, for that. He'd keep the idea in his pocket, though, just in case.

John checked that his smile was in place, turned to Sarah, raised his voice loud enough to be heard over the rumble of conversation and laughter, and asked about her new dog.

END NOTE: Yes, the summary is an actual Sherlock Holmes quote, from the mini-episode released between seasons 2 and 3, Many Happy Returns.



( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
Jul. 30th, 2015 06:31 am (UTC)
Oh John dear, I know how you feel; starting an actual fire to get out of a boring/uncomfortable situation!
This was great and so natural!
Jul. 30th, 2015 07:23 am (UTC)
Lets hope John doesn't get QUITE bored enough to try it. Thanks, rojo, I'm glad it came across as in-character for John.
Aug. 17th, 2015 01:33 am (UTC)
Very apt!
Aug. 17th, 2015 06:09 pm (UTC)
Why thank you!
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )