Chapter Thirteen: Marry Me?
Just A Game [Teenlock]
Chapter Thirteen: Marry Me?
*
"Ah! Hello Harper! How's my lovely brother treating you?"
Sherlock's tone was all too pleased with himself, smirk only growing when Greg's face grew a dark red. The younger Holmes chuckles and winks at him, causing the blushing boy to grit his teeth.
Molly frowns from her seat across from Sherlock. "Um, Sherlock, his name is Greg"
"I know" Sherlock nods. "Greg Harper Lestrade"
"H--"
"No, I haven't seen my brother nor do I know where he's gone"
"Ho--"
"That's a rather stupid question, even for you, Harper" Sherlock tutts.
Molly and John exchange a look, as if asking why the hell Sherlock was being so bitchy.
Mycroft approaches then, his arms snaking around Greg's waist and his chin resting on his boyfriend's shoulder. Greg shoulders relax noticeably and he sinks into the embrace, a smile spreading over his lips.
Sherlock scoffs, bad moon evident once again as he glares at the table before him. John slides over a seat and places a hand on Sherlock's arm, raising an eyebrow. In response, Sherlock's tugs his arm away.
"Where have you been?" Greg asks, tone only showing fondness for the boy behind him.
"Oh, a certain teacher called me in to speak about Sherlock, here" Mycroft's eyes settle on his brother. "They think that for some reason I can get through to him about his.. habits"
That peeks Molly interests, John notes. She looks up, almost as if she were doing an impression of a meerkat, and looks at Sherlock with disapproving eyes.
It's moments like these that John realises just how new he is to the group. They'd been through a lot together. Things they didn't talk about because it was obviously more than 'typical' teen problems like relationship going sour. From what John had gathered something bad happened to Sherlock and Molly, somehow, got him out.
That girl is definitely as angel put on Earth to protect teenage boys from the idiotic decisions.
Sherlock snorts, ignoring the look from Molly. "Oh please, you spat a few choice phases at the lying cow too"
Mycroft hums, no longer interested as he kisses Greg's cheek. The couple were about to to leave when a girl wondered up to the table and sat beside Sherlock.
A glance around told Sherlock that none of them knew her.
She picks up the apple Sherlock had been rolling and takes a bite, eyes fixed on him. Her brown hair is flipped over her shoulder as she leans towards Sherlock, chin in her hand.
"I'm leaving" She speaks after swallowing, placing the apple down by his hand again.
Sherlock frowns at those words before smirking and raising a hand to her cheek. "But I haven't thanked you"
Janine scoffs and straightens, pulling away from Sherlock's touch.
"We shagged, I helped you and now I'm done with you" Even she can't stop the smirk from spreading over her lips.
Oh, this girl was after his heart, Sherlock was sure. Sherlock wondered briefly if her mind actually worked that way. Usually he hated simple minds but Janine seemed so content with herself, it must be nice to be simple and content.
Sherlock smiles wider suddenly, offering his hand. "Marry me?"
Janine gives a soft chuckle and shakes her head. "We'd be terrible. You can't even get my name right"
Pushing out his bottom lips, Sherlock turns on his puppy dog eyes. "We could be great"
John had slid over to his original seat by this point and was nudging Molly for answers. She glares and elbows him back, not being gentle, before she looks back to the scene unfolding before them.
"Hmm.." Janine hums, as if considering. "What would we name our first child?"
"Daniel, of course" Sherlock doesn't miss a beat.
Janine then takes his outstretched hand and shakes. "Deal"
Sherlock drops her hand and before anyone realises it, Janine had risen her hand and brought it down hard against Sherlock's cheek, leaving the pale skin a hot glowing red.
"How dare you do this to me!" The smile was evident through her tone.
John and Molly exchanged a bemused look.
"Awh! C'mon, babe, did you see his arse?!" Sherlock throws his arms up in the air, acting like Janine was being stupid and over the top.
The Irish girl nods. "Mmmmmm.. Yeah, I did" She gazes off, her expression portray desire as she thinks about 'his arse'
A stretch of silence follows. Everyone minus Sherlock and Janine looking at least a tad confused while those two just blink at each other. They were staring like they'd just met for the first time in years and couldn't remember the others name.
"So, Scotland?" Sherlock questions, turning back towards the table.
"Indeed" Janine stands, walking away. She waves. "See ya"
Sherlock returns the wave before throwing the bitten apple into bin by their table.
"What just happened?" Greg tries to whisper to Mycroft, but all of them hear it.
Sherlock shoots him an irritated look, as though he couldn't physically even comprehend how stupid the people he interacted with truly are.
"I believe we just watched how Janine and Sherlock's lives would go if they did marry" Mycroft answers.
Before anything else can be said, Molly speaks up. Her eyes wider than usual as she scans Sherlock's face, as if trying to suss him out like she would a riddle in the newspaper.
"You wouldn't do that, right? Settle down and then cheat?" She looked truly disturbed by the idea.
Sherlock opens his mouth to answer but is cut off by a snorted laugh from his dearest brother.
"Pah! Sherlock, settle down? Molly, I do believe you have the wrong idea about my baby brother" Mycroft laughs as Sherlock glares at him.
"Oh?" Molly raises an eyebrow.
Mycroft hums again, glancing at his brother. "You see, Sherlock is under the impression that love is vicious and a disadvantage"
Sherlock practically growls his next words. "And by whose design is that, brother?"
John raises an eyebrow. Surely Sherlock did plan to be alone forever? After asking himself that questions a nagging voice that is often buried in a deep corner of his brain questions why John cared. Because you want to be with him. It taunts.
He brushes it off, like he would dirt, and refocuses on the conversation.
"I said it was a disadvantage" He looks to Greg. "I didn't say it wasn't worthwhile"
Molly melts at those words, looking to the couple with the pride of a mother. They were perfect together. Molly was sure they were the only couple she knew that she could honest say would be likely to last the remainder of their lives. School sweethearts were rare and stuff of fairy tales but these two made it seem all possible.
Mycroft, the even colder hearted Holmes brother, and Greg, the law student who every mother wanted their daughter to marry. A perfect match.
Greg flushes, his cheeks stained a hot pink as he leans in to place a chaste kiss to Mycroft's lip before they wonder off, hand in hand, to wherever it is they usually sit at lunch.
"I may just puke" Sherlock grunts, earning himself a kick from Molly.
~
John was tapping his pencil on the desk, waiting for Sherlock to reappear from downstairs.
It was once again Wednesday but John's father had co-workers over so they'd moved the study session to Sherlock's house. He'd disappeared downstairs around twenty minutes ago to make tea and John didn't feel right in going to look for him. He had a feeling it would lead to more eavesdropping.
John dismisses the thought and examines the desk top. The desk was in what John referred to as the 'clean side' of Sherlock's bedroom so everything on the desk was in line and in some kind of order.
Colour codes seemed to be Sherlock's favourite. All his pens and pencils were organised by the colours of the rainbow. As were Sherlock's abnormally large collection of multi-coloured envelopes. They were in two trays which John assumed where envelopes that were empty and those which were not. John could see a sheet of laminated paper beneath the metal they were resting in and from what he could see through the gaps it was the key for the envelopes.
Violet for phys...
Red for relatio...
Green for...
Blu...
And that was all he could make out without lifting all the envelopes. He didn't dare move a single one. It was all so orderly and perfect that he feared messing it all up and angering Sherlock.
He didn't want that.
Bored of studying Sherlock's belongings to the point he felt like a stalker, John pulls out his phone. Thanks to his mother (and a little bit of begging on his part) John had the latest Samsung Galaxy and he absolutely loved it.
He had many writing apps on his phone and tons of drabbles or chapters of slowly developing stories on them.
He clicks on his latest, and favourite, app and opens up a short story he'd been writing about a young girl who loses her balloon in the wind and has to go through many situations to get it back. He was hoping to get someone who could draw to illustrate the story and maybe send it in to a children's book publisher.
John doesn't even notice the time passing as he taps away at the screen, editing and adding to his story.
"'Good Evening, Mr. Butterfly. Have you happened to see a red balloon fly by?' Asks young Katie" Sherlock's voice was right by John's ear.
The writer jumps and almost drops his phone, face turning completely red.
Eventually John huffs, eyes turning cold. "Don't mock me"
He had little confidence in the book and himself as it was. He didn't need Sherlock reading over his shoulder and judging him.
Sherlock sits on his bed, facing John. "I don't think you should call her Katie.."
John blinks. "What?"
Sherlock waves a hand in front of himself, as if searching for the correct words. His lips were tugged up into a smile and not for the first time this week John found himself wondering why the boy was so uncharacteristically delighted.
"Katie is such a common name. You need something people will remember so it can't be too common but it also can't be so unique that people forget"
"Any suggestions?" John questions, leaning forward.
Sherlock pauses, looking truly thoughtful. He opens his mouth, still mentally debating, before he gasps and stands. He walks over to John and leans across the desk, over his shoulder to pick up a white envelope in the left tray.
Sherlock carefully opens it to pull out a small bit of paper and passes it to John.
The writer takes it and looks down. In the middle of the rectangle was a drawing of a young coloured girl. She looked Indian to John. Her skin was a warm melted chocolate coloured and her hair was so dark a brown it appeared black even on paper. Her ringlets started from an inch or so away from her roots. Her clothes were purple, a purple dress and she had a large smile on her face.
John looks up at Sherlock, confused. The teen was smiling down at him, almost as wide as the drawing.
He taps the top of the paper. "Lilah"
John's face lights up in realisation and he looks down at the drawing again.
"She's perfect" John sucks in a breath then, mind going back to the illustrations needed. He beams up at Sherlock. "You have to illustrate it, Sherlock!"
Sherlock frowns, clearly confused. "Wh-- Oh.. No. I didn't draw her" He shakes his head.
John looks down again at the girl- Lilah- and tilts his head. "Who did?"
"Jim" Sherlock replies.
John hums, frown deepening. Jim didn't seem to like him that much. John understood, of course, in Jim's eyes Sherlock had stop speaking to him and suddenly taken John up as a friend. John had in no way replaced Jim, that would never happen, but it likely seemed that way to others.
Sherlock watches John for a moment before moving to the bed and laying down, looking up at his ceiling.
John suddenly got a wave of that familiar feeling, like his mind was being read by Sherlock.
"We should probably start studyin--"
"I'll ask Jim for you, when he comes back" Sherlock interrupts.
John pauses, his heart pounding. "But you're not talking to Jim"
Sherlock turns his head, looking at John. "I've spoken to him, sort of. Few texts We're good. We're going to talk when he comes back from wherever h and Irene have gone"
Pursing his lips, John nods. "Thank you"
Sherlock smiles and rolls of the bed, picking up his Chemistry book. "You're welcome"
John returns the smile and Sherlock winks, making the writers stomach flip as he opens his own book.
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