Compromises - A Johnlock Fanfiction

Chapter 6 - Secret supply

Chapter 6: Secret Supply

John unlocked the door to 221B and threw the keys onto the side table top. Sherlock followed me in, shrugging off his thick, woollen coat and hanging it on the coat rack as he always did when he came into the flat. I grabbed my laptop and collapsed into my armchair.

“Don't you want to go to sleep? It's 10pm.” John looked up at Sherlock with a look which said that what he had just asked was a stupid question “Oh that's right. You've had your sleep.” John gave him a spiteful smile and turned back to the laptop where he brought up his blog.

“I wrote up the case about the racing horse in Dartmoor,” Sherlock loped over to where I sat and peeked at the blog entry, continuing to make a disgusted sound,

“The White Blaze, I thought people stopped reading your blog after I...erm...” he trailed off, still not willing to talk about how he faked his own suicide for unknown reasons.

“It's been two years, Sherlock. People have near enough forgotten about that whole incident. The news papers are still doing follow up stories and we still receive hate mail in the comments section though.” John glazed over one such comment now 'Sherlock should have stayed dead' this particular one read. Nice.

“There's no such thing as bad publicity, John.” Sherlock gave me a fake smile and went onto his own computer, to check his e-mails from what I could see from here.

“Have you found Milla Branston yet?” Sherlock remained silent though. I probably wouldn't get an answer for days. He was back on the case after the little hospital drama. I choose to just sweep the fact that I had slept on Sherlock's shoulder under the rug so that everyone would just forget it. An hour later Sherlock broke the silence;

“Yes, you've got a date with her tomorrow.” I spat out the tea I had made to fill the time.

“What?” Sherlock turned around looking all innocent, as if it was perfectly normal to set your friend up on dates with suspected murderers.

“You have a date, on Wednesday, with Milla Branston. I thought I had made that clear.” Sherlock frowned, giving me the look.

“No Sherlock. That part was very clear. What I don't get is why we had to set me up on a date with her or why we had to go on a date with her at all!” I almost yelled. He continued to give me that look so I returned an expression that possibly mirrored the look as closely as possible, hoping he would explain himself.

“Oh come on, John, this is completely obvious...?” He asked.

“Clearly not.” I snapped back, I was now stood up and grabbing the back of my chair.

“You're always on dates so you know how to act, I'll be close by in case she tries to kill you, we can get more information about her. Maybe you might get a second date, maybe she won't be the killer. It's settled now.” He clicked the send button as he said that and I realised what I had overlooked; he had been sending e-mails to this Milla Branston girl from my e-mail account which he had signed into on his computer. Damn it.

“I'm the bate?” he nodded, giving me the look again. I rolled my eyes and turned away.

John stayed up until past midnight, mainly keeping an eye on Sherlock. It had been an eventful day and John had almost forgotten than Sherlock must still be on a 'bad night'. John put his laptop aside and made it look as if he was going into the kitchen to get some food. He opened and closed several cupboards making grumbling noises as if the cupboards were empty, which they weren't because John had been shopping yesterday while Sherlock had been at the morgue. John looked into the fridge and pushed some stuff aside, making complaints about never having food in the cupboards. He heard Sherlock shift in his seat and the lid of the laptop being shut.

“Do I need to go out and get takeaway, John?” John turned to Sherlock and opened his mouth to speak but Sherlock continued “So that you can rifle through my room. I've been clean since I met you, John. Have you ever actually found drugs?” John thought about this. Sherlock was right, he had never found drugs in Sherlock's room but that didn't mean that there wasn't any.

His eyes flickered to the pile of paper that they hadn't gotten to the bottom of since they first moved in, it would be the perfect place to hide drugs or cigarettes. Sherlock followed his line of sight and his eyes widened momentarily. He had slipped for a second and this allowed John to observe that Sherlock was hiding something.

“You can tell me now, or I can find it and get really mad.” Sherlock looked at John blankly, stubbornly not revealing anything. How it frustrated John when he did that. John approached the mass of litter and let out a deep breath, why didn't he move out when Sherlock started shooting at the wall? John started picking at the pile, creating a new pile on the floor.

“John, I have files I really need in there.” John looked back at Sherlock and started to throw the papers on the floor “This is really stupid, I'm not doing drugs.” he watched in horror as John kept picking at the pile of useless papers, getting quicker as he progressed. Stashed in the middle of the pile, just as John had suspected was another secret supply of cigarettes. John held them up with pride.

“How long have these been here?” he started out calmly and when Sherlock didn't answer he raised his voice further, stepping towards him “How long have these cigarettes been in that pile, Sherlock?” he shouted, waving them in his face. “How could you continue to smoke, you were doing so well. I thought we'd finally cracked this.” John complained. Sherlock refused to speak, remaining stubbornly silent. John wished he could punch him but resisted the appealing idea. “I don't even know why I bother.” John threw the cigarettes at Sherlock and stormed off to his room, intending to not speak to Sherlock unless Sherlock broke the silence first.