Heir Apparently

Victor Trevor Ruins Things

"I think you did very well today, considering you've never really done this sort of thing before." John decided, sounding like a proud mother who had just watched their son compete in their first kiddy jousting tournament.
"And you as well. You looked like you actually cared about soybeans." Sherlock said with a little laugh. John shrugged innocently, looking up at Sherlock with an adoring smile.
"I don't know, they're interesting I suppose, not that I enjoy eating them. He made a good point." John admitted.
"Really? I wasn't listening." Sherlock admitted. John just broke out into a small fit of giggles, to which Sherlock slapped him lightly in the arm. "Don't giggle, this is an official meeting!" he hissed, but John kept on laughing. Sherlock couldn't help but laugh a little bit himself, trying his best to cover his smile with his hand so that no one else could detect his amusement.
"I'm amazed at you Sherlock, honestly I am. The level of petty you manage to be, it's extraordinary." John decided. Sherlock finished off his laughing and wiped his eyes, as if they had begun to pool up with amusement.
"Could you imagine John, if you worked here, long after the Adlers have left?" Sherlock wondered. John looked up at him with a smile, but his eyes were sad, as if he thought he knew something that Sherlock's did. As if he knew their future wasn't as long as Sherlock hoped.
"It would be amazing, of course it would. Do you think it's possible?" John wondered.
"Well of course, I'm willing to pay them anything." Sherlock assured.
"Don't let them hear you say that." John insisted. Sherlock looked around, but thankfully he didn't see an Adler in sight. They must have left the meeting early, maybe to discuss this as a family away from listening ears.
"Alright then, let's take a walk." Sherlock decided hopefully, imaging walking the grounds arm in arm with the lovely John Watson. John, however, just shook his head, looking disappointed as well.
"We can't take a walk Sherlock; you know that sparks...questions." John insisted. Sherlock shook his head, looking around the room to make sure no one was paying their king and his servant any attention.
"Then I'll just walk you out. Surely there's no harm in that." Sherlock decided. John nodded, shrugging as if he couldn't find any opposition to that.
"Alright then, lead the way." John agreed. Sherlock nodded, walking through the crowd to the door, hoping there was no one in this room that would've noticed his exit. John jogged to catch up, meeting Sherlock in the empty stone corridor as they started their journey up to the servant's quarters. Sherlock walked slowly so that John could match his strides, but he made sure not to make it too obvious, he didn't want the shorter man to think he was patronizing him or anything.
"Funny, I didn't know a room could get so boring in just twelve hours. It had been so much more interesting before." John decided. Sherlock blushed from his forehead to his toes, trying to mutter out a response when he had been thinking the exact same thing.
"Then it was...exciting? Worth it?" Sherlock wondered. John just stared at his feet, as if he didn't want to answer this question while looking into Sherlock's eyes. It was odd, because usually Sherlock was the shy one in this relationship.
"Yes, yes of course." John agreed. Sherlock nodded in agreement, putting his hands in his pockets to discover that they weren't empty.
"Oh, I um...I picked these for you yesterday. We were out hunting, they caught my attention." Sherlock admitted, pulling out the withered and now mutilated flowers, their dried wrinkled petals falling off as he handed it over to John.
"Oh, thank you." John said with a bit of a laugh.
"They were a lot more attractive yesterday; evidently they've been through a lot. Mycroft almost sat on them; actually, so it's a good thing I rescued them from that torment." Sherlock admitted with a small, nervous smile. Flowers were always a feminine thing, so Sherlock wondered if John actually appreciated them or not.
"I just, I wanted to make sure you knew that all of that, last night, that wasn't just me following orders. I wanted that, almost as much as you had." John pointed out. Sherlock scanned the deserted corridor once more, wanting to make sure theirs were the only ears listening in.
"Yes of course." Sherlock agreed. "Yes I wanted that as well."
"But I thought about it, I thought about it so much until I just couldn't imagine a life without you in it. I never realized just how much you truly meant to me, not until you opened my eyes." John admitted. Sherlock blushed once more, not feeling able to bring his eyes to meet John's. This was beautiful; these were the words that he had been longing to hear for a while now.
"Thank you, thank you John that means a lot." He whispered truthfully. And they did, they meant the world to him, John had no idea the affect some simple words of affection could have on such a fragile boy. Sherlock felt John's eyes on him, but he didn't know what to do about it.
"I feel the need to recreate last night, just a little bit." John admitted. Sherlock felt his legs tense up in nervousness, his face blushing so agressivley that he could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks.
"Yes, I um...I've felt the same." He admitted. "But it had only been last night; would you like to...wait? I don't want to rush you; I don't want to make you feel, uncomfortable."
"Sherlock I don't want to rush into anything, especially something so fragile as a perfect relationship. But I want to kiss you, right now, in this corridor." John insisted. Sherlock glanced around the hallway nervously, his heart racing in his chest as he was overcome with that same helplessness he had felt last night. John's words, his romantic words, they gave Sherlock a sense of overwhelming paralysis that he only felt when he felt properly enchanted.
"John this is...it's a public place." Sherlock whispered, practically glowing with embarrassment. He knew that John liked it when he blushed, maybe that's why he was so charming whenever he was about to kiss him. Maybe it was satisfying in a way.
"So you're saying you don't want to?" John wondered, looking at Sherlock with a small doubtful smile.
"No, of course not, I just..."
"Sherlock!" someone called from behind. Sherlock sighed heavily, clenching his jaw angrily and spinning on his heel to see Victor running towards him, his black cape flowing off behind him.
"Victor." Sherlock snapped, not saying much more in the hope that he would leave him alone.
"Where is your escort?" Victor wondered nervously, coming to a halt and staring at John with a bitter expression of jealousy.
"I don't need an escort, I'm with John." Sherlock snapped, as if this should be obvious. Victor rolled his eyes, obviously thinking Sherlock was out of his mind.
"Sherlock we don't know who the assassin is, you shouldn't be wandering around with a stranger." Victor insisted, as if this should be obvious.
"I was just walking him back to his room." Sherlock insisted stubbornly, really not in the mood to be listening to Victor's paranoia. There was no reason John would ever be his assassin, he was in love with him, who would dare kill the person they loved? Victor studied the two of them with suspicious eyes, most likely noticing the blushing in Sherlock's cheeks, or the way John held himself defensively, the withered flowers clenching in his fists.
"Yes, escorting, I'm sure." Victor muttered with a small knowing smile.
"Whatever you're trying to imply I suggest you close your mouth." John snapped. Sherlock winced, expecting Victor to snap, but instead he smiled, which was, in a way, even worse.
"Mr. Watson someday someone will put you in your place, and I wish above all things that it would be me who would have that honor." Victor said confidently.
"Well good luck with that Victor, considering I'm nothing more than a servant and I'm still treated like royalty around here." John snapped. Victor drew himself to his full height, a height that, Sherlock was embarrassed to admit, was a little bit taller than himself. If Victor was even taller than Sherlock, he could only imagine how much he towered over the poor servant. But John's glare continued and Victor just stared right back, they two of them sizing each other up as if ready to throw some punches.
"Victor, John, please behave, act like men, not children." Sherlock insisted rather bitterly.
"He started it." John muttered defensively, and it took all of Sherlock's self-control not to crack even the smallest of smiles.
"I will not be challenged by a servant, certainly not one who stands to close to the ground." Victor snapped. There was another moment of tension, but finally Victor swept away, his black cape swirling around him dramatically before he stormed off down the hallway, practically steaming in anger and humiliation.
"Someday I'm going to let you beat his skull in." Sherlock decided, and John just laughed, shaking his head and starting off the opposite way that Victor had fled.
"He doesn't deserve to be beaten up by me. He could never bear to have his distinguished features destroyed by such an unworthy fist." John insisted with a laugh. "He needs a royal to put him in his place."
"Oh John, if only I could." Sherlock said with a sigh. They continued their way down the corridor, but apparently whatever plans had been made before Victor's visit had been forgotten. Evidently Victor was able to keep Sherlock and John apart just by his mere presence, which was extremely irritating. How dare he accuse Sherlock of walking down the hall with his assassin, how dare accuse John of such treachery? The man that walked next to the king was loyal, he was trustworthy, Sherlock doubted he would even attempt to kill a fly. He was so pure and so loving that the idea of him actually killing someone, well, it was almost laughable.