Chapter Text
“Boss?” Donovan storms in Lestrade, her phone in hand. “Have you seen this?”
“Hmmm,” painfully writing a report, Greg never turns his head. I can’t believe I still have to complete forms by hand! He was trying to fit a 26 letter name in 20 little boxes when Sally drops her phone on the paper. “What do you –” the DI’s eyes widen as he starts reading Sherlock’s blog, Didn’t think he had it in him! “How did you find that?”
Her cheeks turn slightly pink, she admits having an alert on Sherlock’s blog. “To know if he talks about... unauthorized things, you know.”
Her boss isn’t really listening to her reply, his eyes still glued on the small screen. Poor man, that’s horrible... what an asshole that man has been when he was in uni! And all that bullying... and that I didn’t really do anything serious about the way Donovan and Anderson kept calling him freak. That stops right now! Wonder if his brother has read this? He is about to call Mycroft when his phone pings.
I am, of course, aware of my brother unusual display of sentimentality, Gregory. MH
The git, of course he knows! Quickly, he texts back before asking Donovan to leave and close the door. Don’t want her to imagine things, I’m doing this already really well on my own... ! He sighs, thinking about the beautiful imposing man, that sometimes being friends is not enough.
What do you think of it? GL
I think that if he really wants to have the trouble of having a partner, he could have chosen worse. MH
True, and I’m still rooting for him as your in-law lol Are you keeping an eye on him? In case, you know, it turns sour. GL
A few of my employees, unknown to Sherlock, got a reservation for tonight. MH
Good man! With a live feed? GL
Of course, I am not an amateur. MH
Anthea is out to get low-fat microwavable popcorn. MH
Whatever it is. MH
And Watson? Do you have an eye on him? GL
No, not really. I won’t intervene. MH
Yah right. GL
Good day, Gregory, I will keep you informed of the outcome. MH
Laughing heartily while looking at his phone, Greg thought about Mycroft eating popcorn in his beautiful suit. Maybe I could ask if I can... But no, it’s private. Sherlock does not need more eyes on him. Even if he’s unaware of it! Turning back to his paperwork, the DI never realized that the level of excitation was rising on the floor until people start shouting. What is that again! Rising from behind his desk he opens the door.
“WHAT’S HAPPENING NOW! I’ve got work to –”
“It’s Watson, boss, we found him!” One of the rookie answers, blushing.
“What are you talking about...” looking around, Greg realizes that nobody on his team – even Anderson! - is working. They are looking at the different CCTV monitors spread around the room. Most of the screens focussing on one man. Examining the image, Greg frowns, “is this... Doctor Watson? No... Really? You don’t have anything better to do?”
“It’s only that we think that he didn’t read –”, one detective explains before a colleague interrupts him.
“He didn’t read Holmes’ blog and it looks like he is presently walking as far away as possible from Angelo’s.” A dozen of sad exclamations and not so nice adjectives for the poor doctor resonate in the room.
“How the Hell do you know if –”
“Twitter!” Donovan sputters, “it was on Twitter. He read the first line on a public screen at Kings than walked away. He’s been walking since then without taking his phone out.”
Lestrade, curious and a bit nervous for Sherlock, grabs a chair to sit in front of the screens. “Do we have any idea where is going?”
“Hampstead Heath, I think.” Anderson replies, sniggering, “the man isn’t as stupid finally, good call to run away from --”
“PHILIP!” Sally shouts before Greg had the time to say something, she is definitely feeling guilty for what she said to Watson, “that’s enough!”
Taking a doughnut from the snacks table, he shrugs his shoulder, “Sure, it’s a sad story, but he is still a freak,” before leaving to get back to his lab.
The disagreeable man is quickly forgotten when someone yells, “oh my God, he’s at the entrance of the park!”
Greg quickly turns to look at the clock, it was 17:55. Come on, what are you doing man!
At 18.30, Mycroft, without (openly) looking that interested in the outcome of the whole affair, walks by the CCTV room. “Any news?”
“Our people are in place, two men on this table and a couple at this one,” Anthea says, showing the setup on the telly. The images of the interior of the restaurant were clear as crystal, displaying both tables as well as the table reserved for Sherlock. “And Doctor Watson is walking around upon the hill, waiting for the moment to go back to the centre.” I hope!
“Perfect. It’s still early, Anthea, we have work to do.” Eying the big bowl of popcorn, Mycroft frowns in disgust thinking about the amount of chemical involved in the creation of fat-free-butter-flavouring, “you shouldn’t eat that crap, dear.” With a handful of kernels, the young woman was ready to follow her boss when he objects, “if you think you’re going to eat popcorn in my office, dear, you are delusional!”
Childishly, she engulfs everything before muttering with her mouth full. “Ready, Sir!”
Rolling his eyes, Mycroft chuckles before pulling out a file from his cabinet.
30 minutes later...
“Okay, times up, you are not able to work efficiently anyway!”
Jumping from her chair, Anthea smiles and rushes out of the office. Mycroft shakes his head, women, they are all too romantic for the own good, even the best ones! He is about to check his emails when she frantically enters the room.
“Sir! The idiot is still in Hampstead!” I knew we should have done something!
“What!” I knew I should have done something! Rising quickly from his chair, Mycroft steps from behind his desk and walks rapidly (not running, it’s undignified) to the media room. And here he was, still in the middle of nowhere, looking at his surrounding and looking a bit lost.
Screening rapidly the operation on John’s phone, Anthea realizes that he never read Sherlock’s message! “I can’t believe it! What wrong with men?”
It looks like I should have talked to the man myself! What is his problem! Sherlock opens his heart for everyone to see and –
His thoughts were interrupted by a hysteric Anthea (Mycroft’s opinion, not mine) “Mister Holmes! He’s taking is bloody phone out of his pocket!” Grabbing her boss harm, she laughs as The Science of Deduction appears on her surveillance screen “He’s reading the bloody blog! Finally! God, men are useless sometimes!”
“Anthea...” Mycroft chides.
“Except you, Sir, and your brother, and that dear Inspector Lestrade.”
“You’re impossible!” Holmes chuckles, unable to be angry when the young woman was so hopeful for his brother, “oh, dear, look! He’s going back down the hill, he’s running towards London.”
“He will never be there in time!”
And if he’s not there at 19:30 Sherlock going to close a door that he won’t open again... “Call all of our cabs needed to cover the different exits at the South of the park. They must stay there, ready to go!”
“Yes, Sir!” Using her phone she quickly sent a message to the cab company that works with them to get there as quickly as possible. “It’s done, and now?”
With a last glance at his phone, he smiles, “grab your popcorn dear, we’re going to Scotland Yard! Inspector Lestrade is having a viewing party!”
John is running down the hill like a madman, his mind screaming silently at his own stubbornness! Why did I wait so long! I am an imbecile! It was exhilarating to finally know what he wants! I was a soldier, I am able to do that! No doubt! No fear! Anyway, I lied also... who am I to judge! His leg completely forgotten as he flies in direction of the man he loves. The man he wants to be loved by. He knows deep down inside that the man’s lies hurt only his pride. That he resented him for the sleepless nights when he was feeling guilty about lusting after one of his students... His actions weren’t against me, we were both lying for the same great cause! If his feelings are real, he must have suffered as badly as me!
Rushing thru the path, he nearly runs over a woman and her dog “Sorry!!!!” He laughs when she screams back calling him a nutter. I’ve got the best reason to be crazy: love! He is finally at a gate when, luck is on his side, a cab turns onto Nassington Road. Not questioning how it is possible that odds were so much in his favour in that deserted area, he jumps in the cab. “Soho, as quickly as possible!” Looking at the hour on the car dashboard, he closes his eyes, trying to summon the last breath of air in his lungs.
I’ve got 10 minutes.
“Come on, man!” Greg is looking at the CCTV near Angelo, the wide angle allowing a good view of the street. Luckily, as it was a Wednesday, the area wasn’t as full of people as during a weekend. But Doctor Watson was nowhere in sight so far! He saw Sherlock walk inside the restaurant a few minutes ago, apparently nervous but with a resolute expression. “Where are you Watson! You have only a few minutes left!”
An amused voice coming from the door makes them jump in surprise, “ETA, 7 minutes if the traffic lights are on his side.” Or if the good cabbie doesn’t bother with them.
“But of course, the traffic lights are going to be cooperative, Sir,” Anthea replies to her boss, a small smile on her otherwise straight face.
“What?” Greg looks at Mycroft, his mouth remaining slightly opens in amazement. “And you know that...”
“He’s in a cab right now, on his way to the restaurant.”
“We lost his trace at some point in the park... He’s on his way? For real?” Donovan asks, hopeful.
“Yes, sergeant, and in a surprisingly positive disposition if I recall what you said to him in that warehouse,” Holmes replies coldly.
“Sir, I... I am... sorry.” Sally stutters, not wanting to become an enemy to the powerful man and sincerely wishing her best to Sherlock. “It was inconsiderate, I will ask both for their forgiveness.”
Molly, suddenly jumping on her chair, screams happily. “He’s there! He’s there! YESSSS!”
And here he was, jumping out of a cab and running to the restaurant to charge into Sherlock who is exiting the place decisively!
A chorus of awwwwwwws and ohhhhhhhhhs explode in the room to Mycroft’s discomfort. Maybe coming here wasn’t that good an idea. Turning to Gregory, to excuse himself before leaving, he finds that the detective is looking at him with a bright smile, full of not so subtle emotions. Okay, maybe it’s not that bad.
John, nearly out of breath again at the sudden appearance of the beautiful man, stutters “William... shit... erm... Sherlock.” He was leaving? I’m only 3 minutes late!
“Doctor Watson, you are here.” The detective remains stuck in place, not knowing what to do. Looking away at something further in the street he murmurs without really paying attention “you are late –”
He’s so beautiful, his dark curls are like a halo in the door’s light. “Yes, so sorry, 3 minutes, it took forever to –”
“Are you... are you...” Sherlock stutters and definitively blushing, wanting to know if John was in the same disposition of him without being able to ask frankly.
A big smile on his boyish face, John murmurs while conveying all the love possible in his eyes, “yes, I –“
He is unable to finish as the young man grabs his hand with a big grin and shouts, “run!”
Less than ten minutes later - after a mad course in lanes, jumping over gates and other madness - they were both laughing like madmen in the middle of the street.
Unable to stop giggling, John repeats Sherlock’s words to the American tourist that was in the cab they pursued, shaking his head at the pure insanity of their actions “Welcome to London!”
“I didn’t know what to say!” The detective chuckles, so happy that John was there with him. For a case! This is wonderful! What a wonderful first date!
“And what was all that about?” John asks, wanting to know why they had rushed after the cab.
“A hunch that I had for a case... You know, the serial suicides.” As the doctor nods, of course, he knew about the ‘suicides’ as it has been in the papers for days, Sherlock explains his theory so far, the pink phone, and everything.
“That’s brilliant!”
“Really? You don’t think that... that I am a fr-, weird.” Sherlock mutters as he fidgets with the buttons of his coat, suddenly shy. “That, that letter I wrote to you... it’s a lot, I know, and –”
“You are not weird. You are not a freak. You are a wonderful man with a few quirks to keep life interesting.” The tall man’s eyes, sparkling from the vigorous exercise and sentiments, were hypnotic. Constantly changing colour. John, unable to control himself, gently brushes his eyelids and murmurs. “Can’t believe you hid those under contacts...”
“I’m so sorry John... so so sorry.” Motioning to the street around them, he apologizes, “it wasn’t supposed to be like that… we were supposed to be in the restaurant, I didn’t plan anything!” He pauses as pink appears on his cheeks, “of course I gave that address not far from Angelo’s to the killer, so I knew that it was an option –”
John stops him, giggling again at the beautiful, clueless man, “catching a killer was your way out if I wasn’t there or if it was too awkward? Asking a friend to call you wasn’t enough?”
A bit annoyed, the detective protests, “there’s nothing wrong about having a plan B and –”
Placing his hands around the glorious man neck he raises his head to be able to reach Sherlock’s perfectly plump lips and effectively stop his rambling by a small peck. “It’s okay love, I understand...” The passion, the energy, the spirit, all this was what attracted me to William. Sherlock is the same, exactly the same man. “I am such an idiot.”
Placing his forefront on John’s head, the detective murmurs, “no you are a brilliant, passionate man, courageous, you are magnificent.”
“I thought I lost you,” the doctor murmurs, his face now in the crook of Sherlock’s neck. “You are the same, you are the man I fell in love with.”
“So sorry, again, and again,” the detective says while he soothingly strokes the older man’s back, “it was a real torture to try to stay away from you. I knew it wasn’t right on so many levels, but I wasn’t... It wasn’t a game, you’ve got to believe me. I wasn’t able to stay away.”
“We don’t have to now...”
“And never again,” Sherlock drops his mouth on John’s, rejoicing at the thought that they had a second chance. Everything was better now! The lights of the street were brighter, the case was more exciting, the air was different. The fear of being rejected again disappearing in John’s warmth. Opening his lips, he accepts his lover’s deep kiss joyfully. The intimate exploration driving him mad as he was unable to silence the humming that was coming from his throat, from his heart. I’m turning in a silly romantic fool and that’s okay. The idea that they were in the middle of a street (thankfully car-free) and the thought that people and CCTV were all around weren’t enough to stop them.
After many delightful minutes, partygoers catcalling them sadly broke the charm. Smiling like teenagers, they both walk away quickly, holding hands.
A bit smug, John winks at Sherlock. “I think that’s one case solved.”
“Which case?” his future boyfriend asks, nonplussed.
“The case of the ‘Never been kissed detective’ of course! Maybe you should write an epilogue to your post, so people know that the place is taken...”
“And quite expertly, if I may say” he laughs “Case closed but still available for experiments!”
“As long as I am your sole subject, it’s all fine with me! I’m signing up for a lifelong study!” John, remembering the fake suicides and the cab driver asks suddenly, “and who’s the killer, do you have any idea?
“No, I’ve got no idea at all...” Sherlock replies dismissively, surprised by the fact that it wasn’t currently the first thing in his mind. Turning towards John, he grins. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving! Back to Angelo’s?”
“No, it reeks of my dear brother’s men. I know a nice Chinese place a little further away... You know I can guess the fortunes in the cookies.”
Chuckling again, John shakes his head theatrically. “No, you can’t!”
Sliding next to John and changing his longer stride to match John’s shorter one, he murmurs in his ear, “they are going to say, ‘You are going to meet the love of your life today’.”
At Scotland Yard, everyone cheers at the kiss, not so secretly hoping that Sherlock's acerbic attitude going to be mellower (one can hope!).
"Too bad we weren't able to hear what they said," one secretary sighs, "it looked really romantic!"
A little smile on their lips, Anthea and Mycroft exchange a glance as they both read the transcript of the discussion on their respective phones.
"Hum, you read that, dear?" Mycroft smirks at his brother's last words.
"Yes, sir. I'm on it!" The perfect PA replies, sending a message to the restaurant about the fortunes. How hard could it be to change the message in a fortune cookie?
Fortunately, pretty easy!