The Johnlock Book of One Shots

The Bookshop (Unilock)

On school campus there sat a small group of shops, most having to do with the school's logo over clothes and such, but there were a few that didn't sell anything like that. Those few shops were John's favourite. More than anything he loved books. So that's where he worked. The small bookshop in between a restaurant and another school store. He loved that bookshop more than anything, and not very many people cared to come in. Those who did he became friends with. No matter who they were he always managed to make a friendship.

One day, a new customer came in. No one else was in the shop besides John so far that day. He was awfully tall with curly brown hair, a purple dress shirt, and dark jeans. John was immediately interested, especially since he had never seen this man before. He watched as the man searched through bookshelves with a feather-light touch. John was hypnotized, watching the man's every move.

"It isn't polite to stare." said a very deep voice after a few moments. It took only a second to notice that it was the mystery man that had spoken.

John jumped and averted his eyes, sticking his nose back into his book as he sat on his stool at the counter. After a few more minutes he thought it would be safe to look up. His eyes slowly dragged upward and caught onto the man again. He was squatting beside a non-fiction shelf, scanning through each spine.

"John Watson, right?" The man asked then.

John, startled, stuttered slightly. "Uhhm, y-yes. H-how do you know that?"

The man glanced over at him. "Name tag."

John glanced down. "Oh, right, of course." he slapped himself mentally. A few minutes later the man left, not buying any books.

~

For two weeks the man came in nearly every day. John would ask what his name was, but then the man would ignore that he had said anything. Today a few new boxes of books came and since the shop was quiet as usual he decided to start unpacking them. He picked up each box, dropping boxes near their designated areas, and began pulling each book out, reading the synopses of the interesting-looking ones (nearly every one for him) and placed them into their spots.

He was moving onto his third box when the little bell rang with a ding. He had a pile of books in his arms, stacked nearly over his head, when he turned to see who it was. John didn't see anyone, shrugged, and went back to pulling the books out of the box before grabbing an armful, reading the back, and placing them onto the shelves.

"John?"

He jumped, dropping the books, and turned to see the man once more. "Ah, hello, do you need anything?" John asked politely, heart still racing.

The man smiled. "I was wondering if you wanted any help."

"I, uhm," John glanced at the other boxes that he still had to do. "Sure, yes. Thank you."

John then motioned to the books, grabbing the ones that had fallen on the floor and stood back up. straight. When the man had an armful he said suddenly; "Sherlock. My name is Sherlock. Holmes."

The shorter, blonde man smiled widely. "Nice to meet you, Sherlock Holmes."

"The pleasure is all mine, John Watson." Sherlock replied with a grin.

~

Thus began a great friendship between the two, always off in the shop and working. Sherlock never missed a single one of John's work days and even after they would go to the coffee shop next door. Each were ecstatic with the thought of finally having a friend, but something always worried Sherlock in the back of his mind. For he did not feel just friendship for John. He was in love.

He really thought about loving John while they were at the coffee shop one day during John's break.

"Sherlock, why are you staring?" John asked with a chuckle, taking a sip of his drink.

Sherlock shook his head to snap out of it. "Sorry, just zoning out."

"You've been doing that an awful lot lately." John observed. Sherlock just shrugged and picked at the salad, the same kind that John made him eat every day so that he got at least something to eat. "What's going on, Sher?"

Sherlock smiled slightly at his little nickname. "Nothing is wrong, John. Nothing at all."

"I know that's a lie."

"I know you know." he sighed and nibbled a bit on a piece of lettuce.

John leaned over closer to Sherlock. "You can tell me if something is going on, I won't tell anyone. I don't have anyone to tell. Either way I never would."

"What do you know about love, John?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

John raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think that I'm... you know. In love." Sherlock looked away, hiding his eyes.

John's mind buzzed and clicked and whirred with thoughts. He gulped a bit nervously. He himself had been doubting his heterosexuality around Sherlock, for nearly a week John was telling himself that he was in love.

"With whom?" John asked as a pit grew in his stomach. He knew that Sherlock would never love him back, but he still hated the thought of Sherlock loving someone else.

Sherlock gulped. "I'd rather not say." He said immediately.

John sighed and took Sherlock's hand in his own nervously. "You can tell me anything, Sherlock."

Sherlock avoided John's gaze, John stared with worry in his eyes. Finally, Sherlock slowly looked up and met eyes with John.

Somehow, John didn't need to hear what Sherlock was about to say. He knew. Slowly he moved over towards Sherlock at the other side of the table.

John hesitated as Sherlock watched him lean in closer. A small nod from them both lead to them ever so slowly leaning in.

And they kissed.

At last...