Johnlocked AU

Afghanistan or Iraq

It was almost midday. The sun was seemingly hotter than the day before, or maybe it was just another belief shared amongst commoners.
The roads were noisy and buzzing with people as well as cars.

One significant someone was standing by the crossroad, speaking to someone on his phone. It was another common day for Mike Stamford as well. Nothing out of the blue.

"Look, I need to get to the hospital. I cannot waste -"

The other person on the line spoke a few harsh words.

"Well where do I look for him?? As far as I know he can be in any corner of London!"

Mike stopped speaking to hear the words of the other person.

"To be honest, you owe me a few hundreds by now."

With an infuriating gesture, Mike cut the call and stared at the sheepish clouds gliding across the sky.

It was a beautiful morning.

The man sighs and turns away from Bart's Hospital.

He was already late for work and now he had to look for his junkie friend for god knows what purpose.

Nobody could tell how Mike managed to find the slender figure trashed against the dumpster. Dark curls sprawled over his forehead and hands visibly shaking.
Not in a drug den, where Mike had initially suspected.

"Miiike! Heyyy!" Sherlock half beamed half slurred. He stuck out his hand which Mike grabbed, yanking him to his feet. "Good morning to you too," He muttered in exasperation.
"Ah," Sherlock sighed drammatically, "such a good morning. I managed to get my hands on.....er....cocaine?"
"Come on, Sherlock," Mike dragged Sherlock, who was persistently making noises of protest, to the street.

He raised his hand in order to hail a cab but none of the cabs seemed to notice him, or maybe they deliberately ignored him at the sight of a drug addled disaster by his side.

"Amateur," Sherlock murmured more to himself than to Mike and threw himself in the middle of the street.

If Mike was already distressed, he had a near heart attack at the sudden outburst.

"What the fuck, Holmes!"

Sherlock didn't respond, he simply stood before a cab which had stopped in order to not crush the said drug addled disaster.

"Surprise!" He beamed with a huge smile on his face.

Of course he didn't wait for Mike's permit and yeeted himself dramatically into the cab as well.

___

"I might be wrong....but I have this fleeting suspicion that you found me because my brother ringed. Not because there's a tiny little good in you," Sherlock giggled despite the scowl Mike has plastered on his face.
"You're lucky I haven't murdered you yet."
"I was in the army, sunshine. I will break every bone in your body without even trying," Sherlock coughed.
"I will ask one of my friends to do it for me," Mike giddily looked at the brunette who creased his brows.

"You have friends?"

"No - no don't start this Sherlock. I've had enough of your - you and your brother's bullshit for a month."

Sherlock opened his mouth to object but Mike cut in,

"Sixteen bloody times I had to look for you and counting in today's encounter makes it seventeen. Please answer this, where do you get this amount of money from?"

"Come onn Mickeyyyy," Sherlock whined, "bring some colour in your life!"

"I did. I'm seeing red right now."

___

"Make sure he doesn't get out."

"I'm right here."

Mike ignored the words and threw some cash at the cabbie.

Of course Sherlock got out by throwing some weed at the cabbie as well.

One thing, the cabbie disliked the use of drugs and immediately started swearing out loud at Sherlock who only grinned and walked towards the Hospital.

___

"Are you wearing lipstick? You weren't wearing lipstick before," John furrowed his brows, eyeing Molly skeptically - or more likely, eyeing her lips which were now reddened with a lipstick shade.

"I - uh...I refreshed it a bit."

Oh that explains it.

"Black, two sugars I'll be upstairs," John needn't socialize when there wasn't any need.

He left but he was sure he heard Molly mutter a soft 'okay'.

During a very specific experiment, Mike showed up. John had no particular interest in the man, hence kept going on with his research, answering some of his questions whenever he felt the need to.

The only activity which managed to crack his concentration was the sudden slamming of the door.

John's eyes briskly looked up from the microscope and locked with the tall man - or junkie, any could fit, really.

"Miiikee! Didn't know you fancy hanging around here in this old place!" The man whined.

John eyed the man with keen interest for about three seconds before turning his gaze back to the microscope.

Mike gave a nervous chuckle, "sorry, he's just a little um..."

"High." John offered without looking up.

"Yes!" The man by the doorway shrieked and pointed a finger in midair. "High like...kites!"

"It is a disgrace when someone casts aside their aptitude for the mere elation of drugs."

John finally looked up at the man by the doorway. He blinked profusely for a few seconds before shaking his head miserably, "Can you repeat all that just like...once more I wasn't able to catch on."

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" John questioned, his demeanor never changing.

The man blinked. "Sorry?"

"Which was it Afghanistan or Iraq?"

The man shared a swift glance with Mike Stamford before looking back at John. "Afghanistan - sorry, how did you -"

He never finished since the sound of the door opening broke his concentration just like it had mere seconds ago with John.

"Ah, Molly, coffee."

John reached out and grabbed the cup, not before noticing a significant detail missing from the woman's face.
"What happened to the lipstick?" John voiced his thoughts.

"I - uh - it wasn't working out for me," Molly stuttered.

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement, you're mouth's too...small now." John walked away and set the cup by his microscope while Molly dashed off.

"Rude." The junkie muttered under his breath.

"I find the need to flatter anyone....inconvenient." John clarified before grabbing his long coat and making his way to the door.

"Na-uh- wait," The junkie called out and  almost collided his hand with John's arm.

"I have work to get done, my riding crop is by the mortuary so whatever it is that you find the need to say I suggest you say it now," John stated, not even bothering to stare at the man while he spoke.

"I'm - uh...Sherlock." The man uttered.

"John," John remarked and walked away without saying another word.

Sherlock kept staring into space for a moment then averted his gaze to Mike.

"Who is that guy?"