Anyone at Comicon?

I wish i was, but my mom said maybe next year if we doNT GO TO DISNEY WORLD.

SHE'S MAKING ME CHOOSE PEOPLE OH MY GOD.

John froze, whipping around, eyes frantically searching the crowd.

"Sherlock?" He breathed, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

"John!"

The blogger jumped again, knowing that he was most definitely not imagining the detective's voice.

"Sherlock!" He yelled, moving through the crowd. He began to search for the long legged detective wearing his black coat and blue scarf.

Where is he?!

-

As Sherlock heard John's reply, his heart skipped a beat, and his mind began to race, glancing down at his phone and following the GPS, glancing up every second to make sure he didn't bump into anyone.

Not that he cared.

Just as he turned around, looking about, he collided with someone behind him.

He turned around to quickly apologize, when he saw a dirty and tired John Watson groaning.

"John!"

The blogger looked up at the detective, all pain in his body pausing for a moment as he saw his flatmate lean down and reach out his hands

"John, you're hurt," he said, as he helped the shorter man up. When John was finally to his feet, he collapsed into Sherlock, the taller man taking his weight.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm... I'm fine," the blogger said, breathing in Sherlock's scent as he had rested his head on Sherlock's chest, closing his eyes for a bit.

Holmes flushed and pulled away, holding Watson's shoulders to steady him, which in turn made John yelp a little.

Sherlock cringed a bit, pulling his hand away from John's scarred shoulder, making the man lean into him a bit.

"We should move out of the way." Sherlock said quickly, noticing the people around them were starting to get annoyed.

They walked into a nearby coffee shop, and sat down at a table.

-

"I woke up this morning for the second time next to a dumpster in some alley. I remember falling out the window and running, but that was really it." John said as he began eating the breakfast set before him, shoveling his food as much as possible. His sprained wrist-which Sherlock had wrapped after asking for gauze at the counter- lay on the table next to his plate.

Sherlock stared at the hand, and glared.

"What did they look like? Do you remember?" He asked. John shook his head, to which Sherlock sighed.

They sat in peaceful silence, the detective watching John eat, and also occasionally looking out the window every so often to study the busy street.

Suddenly, Sherlock remembered Lestrade and Mary, and he pulled out his phone to text Greg about finding John.

As he put his phone away, he looked up to see that John had finished his plate, and was looking at him.

He swallowed, and glanced at John's wrapped hand again.

"Are you sure we don't need to take you to a do-" "I'm fine Sherlock. Its only a sprain; also, I think I can take care of myself." He reassured.

Sherlock nodded, looking down at his own hands.

And for the first time, Sherlock blushed at John's stare, because John had not looked away from him for nearly a minute.

He pretended to be studying the pattern of the wood on the table, concentrating very hard on it, and hoping that John didn't see his ears, which were extremely red.

"I was worried." Sherlock blurted, and John blinked, breaking his long stare at the detective.

Holmes suddenly stopped tracing the wooden patterns with his eyes, and looked up at a curious Watson, before he quickly began to save what he had said after sniffing.

"Well, obviously I was, that's not a surprise, but you didn't come back last night-not that I care, but I'd figure you'd at least text me, or even less: call me, but you didn't, and I understand that it was a date, and it was-it's probably rude to interrupt dates-or whatever you call them, I just thought, maybe you'd-"

"Sherlock."

He swallowed and blinked a bit, flushing at John, who was staring at him.

Suddenly, before either of them could speak, Sherlock's phone buzzed.

Scotland yard, now.

Lestrade.

Sherlock stood up, putting his phone in his pocket.

"Do they have showers at Scotland yard?" He asked rhetorically, and John looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

-

When John and Sherlock arrived at the Yard, they went up to the 3rd floor, and while walking out of the elevator they saw a nervous Mary speaking to Lestrade.

When Greg had looked up, he must have said something, because Mary's head whipped around at the two consulting detectives, which were making their way towards them.

Sherlock didn't want to admit that his heart sunk deeply at the sight of the blonde.

Mary yelled out John's name, and began running to him.

John blinked, and Mary suddenly crashed into him, knocking them both into the wall.

John gasped loudly, before Mary began kissing him.

Sherlock glared at her, a sudden ferocity growing inside of him to want to rip her away from John, and claim him as his.

But Sherlock didn't. He just watched from afar, as Mary pulled away.

I'm sorry, aren't you the one that let him walk home at 2 in the morning alone?

In fact, are you the one that stayed up all night waiting for him? Are you his best friend? Are you the one that wrapped his hand?

No, I don't think so.

Sherlock ignored their meaningless chatter (or so he assumed) and turned to Lestrade, who was gaping at him.

"How?!"

Sherlock smirked.

"Do you really think I wouldn't be able to find John Watson within the hour?" He asked. Lestrade raised an amused eyebrow, and bit his lower lip.

"Oh, I never doubted you, I'm just surprised at your... determination. You know the whole possessive thing doesn't suit you." Lestrade poked fun, and Sherlock scrunched his eyebrows up in confusion, before realization dawned on him, and he looked away, ears flushing a pink tint.

"Shut up Graham," "It's Greg!"

"Oh, Sherlock!"

Sherlock turned around to see Mary looking up at him with a soft smile.

"Thank you for finding John. I didn't know you were a detective." She said, and Sherlock blinked at her.

Well I didn't know you were a wh-

"Anyways," She turned to look at John, who was standing there uncomfortably. Sherlock noticed this.

"John and I are heading to my flat, if you care to join us."

She smiled, going back over to give John a hug again. John returned it, but glanced up at Sherlock with pleading eyes.

Get me out of here-please.

Sherlock was a second off to catch on, and he soon spoke up.

"Um, actually he-he can't," Sherlock blurted out, and Mary turned to look at the detective with a frown.

He glanced at John, and turned to Lestrade, mouthing 'case' quietly, to which Greg perked up.

"We've got a case." Lestrade smiled, and Sherlock nodded, turning back to John and Mary.

She glanced at John sadly.

"Well surely he can miss out-" "Ah, no can do. Sherlock needs his fix, and the whole thing where he'd be 'lost without his blogger' and such." John spoke, and glanced at Mary, who flinched a bit.

Sherlock blinked, and stared at John surprised. 

How could he have remembered I said that?

"Also because this case involves John's expertise." Lestrade spoke, and Sherlock nodded, walking over and grabbing John's non injured arm, and pulling him over.

"Oh... okay, but can I talk with him a bit?" Mary asked shyly.

John glanced at Sherlock, and nodded, walking towards Mary, and taking her hand before they began to walk towards the stairs.

Sherlock watched them go, and Lestrade chuckled again.

"Again, with the whole possessive thing-" "I swear to God, Geoff-" "G-R-E-G, for fucks sake!"

#GavinShipsJohnlock2k15 pass it on