Sherlock One shots and Imagines

Doctor dreamy - Part 4 - John x Reader

My apologies for lack of updates. I have been having surgery and was only allowed home yesterday. But hopefully now I am home, I will be able to write more as I recuperate.

"You should take some time to enjoy yourself. Go out with this guy. Give him a chance, you'll really like him. He is super cute and so funny............" (Y/n) grumbled to herself, as she pushed the food around her plate. Michael, her blind date, still talking about himself. The agent just rolling her eyes, as she tried to say something, only to find herself shot down once more.

She didn't know why she was still there. She should have left after she had walked in and seen him. After this guy had done nothing but go on and on about himself and what he had done in his life. How he planned on going to Peru so that he could learn to play the panpipes from an old llama herder at the top of Machu Pichu. The agent finding herself wishing that the gunshot had put her out of action for longer than it had, so that she hadn't had to come on this damn date. Sure, that the night was already proving to be far more painful than the injury that she had sustained.

(Y/n) had no idea how anyone would think that she and this Michael would have anything in common. She prided herself on being down to earth, logical. She was pragmatic, and didn't just jump into things, and that was what made her so good at her job. It wasn't that she was a stick in the mud, that she didn't know how to have a good time. That she couldn't do things on the spur of the moment, no; but for her, there was a difference between having a good time, and being, what her old grandmother would have called him, hippy dippy, like Michael. (Y/n) sure that half of the things that he was telling her, was complete rubbish. Though given what he had turned up to the restaurant wearing, she had to think that his ambition to play pan pipes with llamas at Machu Pichu, was probably true. The agent doing her best to ignore the looks that the waiters at the rather expensive restaurant, were giving her date. (Y/n) picking up the glass of wine and downing the contents, before reaching for the bottle for a refill. The agent letting out a sigh, as Michael went off on another tangent, and started talking about spending six months living in a tent in India, so that he could praying to the cows. So that he could come closer to Kamadhenu, the Hindu divine mother. (Y/n) sure that if it wasn't for the fact that this restaurant made the best Frutti di Mare in London, she would have climbed out of the toilet window a long time ago.

Again, she found herself thinking of the handsome Doctor Watson she had met earlier that day. Thinking about the cute way that he had waved at her and then blushed. How he had smiled when she had shaken his hand. Wondering what he might be up to. Wishing that she was with him, and not the guy across from her. Sure, that she would be having a far better time with him. A heavy sigh leaving her lips as her eyes scanned the other patrons, as she waited for the waiter to remove the plate in front of her. Her eyes growing wide, as she saw a familiar face looking back at her.

                                                           >>-------------------------------------<<

"She isn't your type. She has daddy issues. You don't have enough money in your bank account to keep her in the lifestyle that she would like to become accustomed to............" John grumbled to himself, recalling what Sherlock had said to him before he left the flat, as he pushed the food around his plate. Sofia, her blind date, still talking about herself. The doctor internally rolling his eyes, as he tried to say something, only to find himself interrupted, or should that be completely ignored, once more.

He didn't know why he was still there, other than his good manners and not wanting to have to listen to Sherlock say, 'I told you so'. He should have left after he had walked in and seen her; John sure that the picture that he had seen had been taken with more filters than he knew existed and was in fact of a completely different woman. After she had done nothing but go on and on about herself and how she had spent five hours at the hairdressers. How she planned on going to see a specialist, to get a few things done. A few procedures just to "freshen" things up. Sofia asking for his opinion, but before he could say that he really didn't know anything about plastic surgery, she had moved onto something else. The doctor finding himself wishing that he had never looked at the rotten dating site. That there had been another case, so that he had had a good excuse to not come on this damn date. Sure, that the night was already proving to be far more painful than listening to Sherlock and Mycroft argue.

John had no idea how the dating site would think that he and this Sofia would have anything in common. He prided himself on being down to earth, practical. He was resourceful, and didn't just jump into things, though he could be a little withdrawn at times. But that didn't mean that he was a stick in the mud, that he didn't know how to have a good time. That he couldn't do things on the spur of the moment, no; but for him, Sofia was a little too, well...........narcissistic. She was more concerned with what she thought, felt and wanted, than learning anything about him. John sure that half of the things that she was telling him, he couldn't understand. Though given what she had turned up to the restaurant wearing, it was obvious that a few of the other men present found her more than interesting. The doctor doing her best to ignore the looks that the waiters at the rather expensive restaurant, were giving his date. John picking up the glass of wine and downing the contents, before reaching for the bottle for a refill. Letting out a sigh, as Sofia went off on another tangent, and started talking about whether plastic surgery in Poland could be trusted, especially given how much cheaper it was. The doctor sure that if it wasn't for the fact that this restaurant made the best Frutti di Mare in London, he would have left some money on the table, and climbed out of the toilet window a long time ago.

Again, he found himself thinking of the beautiful agent (Y/n) that he had met earlier that day. Thinking about the way that she had smiled at him. How she had shaken his hand and called him 'Doctor Dreamy'. Wondering what she might be up to. Wishing that she was with him, and not the woman across from him. Sure, that he would be having a far better time with her. A heavy sigh leaving his lips as his eyes scanned the other patrons, as he waited for the waiter to remove the plate in front of him. His eyes growing wide, as he saw a familiar face looking his way.