John: Collection

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I walked through the streets of London reading a book. Yes I know, not the wisest thing to do while strolling through London mid-day but I am entranced. Well, it isn't exactly a book, but a print out if a brilliant mans blog. He's very fascinating, a bit peculiar, but brilliant that man is. His name is John Watson, the sidekick of the brilliant Sherlock Holmes. I have read of the two in the papers, and I must say, the dynamic due seem to be inseparable.  I walked down the street and used my peripherals to avoid brushing shoulders with anyone (that being difficult on these busy streets)  and as I was turning the page I felt someone collide with my backside.


 "Oh I am so sorry sir, I wasn't paying attention! I was so busy with this book I was not aware of my surroundings!" I began to apologize nervously but a soft gentle voice interrupted me. 

"No, love. I'm sorry," he said, "this idiot was distracting me and I ran into you." As soon as I looked up,  the curly haired man started addressing me, it made me very uncomfortable.

"How peculiar." He said quickly and looked me over, rambling things about about me that obviously no one could have told him before. "You've got social anxiety? Of course I'm right. You're made uncomfortable by human contact, I can tell because your hands are shaking. Don't you see them shaking John?" he continued to babble on as the man beside him turned to me and held out his hand. I gave it a light shake before returning my hands to my side. "Sorry about my friend. I'm John, and this is Sherlock."


"Obviously she knows who we are John, shes reading your blog." Sherlock chuckled beside me.

"Are you alright?" John asked.

"Yes I'm fine, thank you."

"You're not from around here are you? From Wales im assuming?" Sherlock said scanning over me once again.

"Yes how did you know?"

"You can hear it in your accent, it's quite distinctive to ours. Where exactly are you from?"

"Brecon."

"Judging by the way your accent sounds, you'v been here three years correct?"

"Around."

"Are you hurt?" John asked as I rubbed the back of my head.

"Of course shes hurt John, you knocked her over and he hit head on the concrete."

"Are you going somewhere particular? If not, I am doctor and I can clean that up for you," he said, almost sounding hopeful. I shook my head indicating that I was not going anywhere, and judging by the amount of bloody that has come off on my hand, getting this cleaned would be my best option. John held onto my elbow because I was still a little bit dizzy from hitting my head so hard and Sherlock was going on about how their flat is strung with evidence and some girl souldn't be in the mitts of it.

John helped me up the stairs and sat me in a chair before hurrying off for a medical kit and rag.

"What's your name again? I'm not sure I quite caught it?"

"Sara, my name is Sara."

"No need to repeat it, I heard it the first time."

"Sherlock behave" John said as he returned with is supplies. "This might hurt a bit," he said to me and lightly put his hand on the top of my head. "Could you lean your head forward please?" he asked gently as I complied. "Alright, hold still. I'm putting it on." 


"John, right now is not the time for you to court this young girl,"  Sherlock said, "we've got a job to do and you're wasting precious time on some girl you ran into on the streets."

"Sherlock!" John yelled at the taller man. I got up from the chair and straightened my shirt.

"I reckon it's my time to bugger off now, sorry for wasting your time Mr. Holmes. John, thank you for tending to my head. I'll be off then." I walked towards the door but John stopped me.

"Sara, he is only joking. Please stay if you'd like. Look, I'll even fix you a cup of tea." He said shuffling to the kitchen. "Look, you're going to turn down my offer though I just kept you from getting a rather nasty infection?"

"John he doesn't want me here. I won't go against his wishes, it's his flat yea?"

"It's my flat too.." He said to Sherlock who gave him a rather nasty glare. Instead, John grabbed my hand and led my down the stairs and around the corner to the shop just below their flat.

"Here" John said leading me to the booth in the corner. There we said and ordered tea as he yet again apologized for Sherlock's behavior. 


We sat there for two hours just discussing different aspects of our lives. He is by far the nicest man I have met since I have lived in London.

"Oh, i see that you are still here with the random girl. Whats your name again? Oh never mind I haven't got time for that. John you are needed."

"Can't you see that I am busy Sherlock?" "John this case is of high importance!"


John groaned in annoyance and slid his phone across the table to me. I put in my number and he smiled. "Hope you would fancy a meal with me sometime?"


"I would love that."


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