~~~
John Watson was limping down a sidewalk on the way back from his therapist when he hears somebody calling his name.
"John!" A slightly overweight man calls out to the soldier. "John Watson!" The short, grey haired man turns to look. "Stamford, Mike Stamford. We were at Bart's together." He adds after seeing the confused look on John's face and holds out his hand to shake.
"Yes, sorry, yes, Mike, hello." John recognizes his old friend and shakes his awaiting hand.
"Yeah, I know, I got fat." Mike jokes.
"No, no." John tries to deny but they both just end up chuckling.
"I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at." Mike says to John after they both exchange pleasantries. "What happened?" He asks paying no mind to the cane in the ex-army doctor's hand.
"I got shot." John replies curtly.
"Are you still at Barts, then?" John jumps to change the subject when they sit down at a bench in the park after getting some coffee.
"Teaching now, yeah." Mike says. "Bright young things like we used to be." He chuckles. "God, I hate them." He adds jokingly and they both laugh. "What about you? Just staying in town till you get yourself sorted?"
"I can't afford London on an Army pension." John tells him.
"You couldn't bear to be anywhere else." Mike realizes. "That's not the John Watson I know."
"Yeah, I'm not the John Watson." He snaps and they both grow silent.
"Couldn't Harry help?" Mike asks after a little bit.
John scoffs, "Yeah, like that's going to happen." He replies.
"I don't know, get a flatshare or something?" Mike suggests shrugging.
"Come on, who'd want me for a flat mate?" John jokes seriously and Mike chuckles. "What?" He asks after hearing Mike's laugh and seeing the look on his face.
"You're the second person to say that to me today." He replies still smiling.
"Who was the first?"
~~~
A curly haired man walks into Bart's Morgue accompanied by a small brown haired women. He walks over to the slab where there is a black body bag waiting for him.
The man unzips the bag. "How fresh?" The curly haired man asks looking inside at the body.
"Just in." A light haired brunette replies walking into that side of the room. "67, natural causes. Used to work here. I knew him, he was nice." The girl, Molly Hooper, smiles lightly.
"Fine." He zips the bag up and turns to Molly giving her a toothless smile. "We'll start with the riding crop." The curly haired man, Sherlock Holmes, says popping the 'p.'
With that, Sherlock took his big coat off and began violently beating and smacking the pale corpse with his riding crop. Molly watched from the window outside, cringing at every smack of the leather on the dead mans body.
"So, bad day, was it?" Molly jokes smiling slightly coming back into the room.
"I need to know what bruises form in the next 20 minutes." Sherlock says taking notes of his work in his small black notebook. "A man's alibi depends on it. Text me."
"Listen, I was wondering." Molly starts a small blush creeping up on her cheeks. "Maybe later, when you're finished-"
"You're wearing lipstick." Sherlock notices after he turned to look at her. "You weren't wearing lipstick before."
YOU ARE READING
Kat Got Your Tongue? (Sherlock X OC) ~BOOK 1~
Fanfiction"The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!" ~~~ "Tax- ugh." Sherlock says getting cut off as another body runs into him, the other person falling to the ground. "Sorry." A female voice says as she sits up. "I'm so sorry, this was my fault, I was rushing to work...
