Chapter Text
Sherlock Holmes crept into SEA LIFE London Aquarium, hoping that his boss, Dr. Molly Hooper, wouldn't notice that he was late. Again. He was always late when he went swimming in the morning, which was almost every morning. The water — though not the ocean or Thames river, far too filthy for his tastes — was the only place he felt accepted. Fish weren't as easily upset by his deductions as humans and, being half merman, he preferred them to the ignorant bipeds. Fish were only marginally less intelligent than humans, anyway. He tried to slip in through the back entrance; hopefully Molly was busy and wouldn't notice....
"Dr. Holmes!" Molly called, trotting up to him, a shorter blond man in tow. "I've been looking for you everywhere." She eyed his outfit, sighing at the lack of lab coat. Molly always wanted the aquarium's employees to wear lab coats, though they all refused after a while. "I have someone to introduce you to. Dr. Holmes, this is Dr. John Watson, our new water fellow. Dr. Watson, this is Dr. Sherlock Holmes. He takes care of the fish and other sea creatures for us."
"I feed little dead fish to the big fish," Sherlock explain with a grin, knowing this would only serve to annoy Molly who preferred more professional titles. He couldn't help but notice Dr. Waton's well groomed hair. It made him stand out in a way that most people never did. He seemed perfectly average, and yet there was a strange glimmer of something else there that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Just come to inspect our tanks, I take it?" Sherlock didn't actually care, he just wanted to 'play nice' so Molly would get off his back for always being 'antisocial' when meeting new people... or people he met before... or anyone, really. Why did people pretend they cared when they met strangers, again? He put his hand out for Dr. Watson to shake; people tended to like that.
John shook the outstretched hand, wincing slightly at the cold temperature that he didn't know was characteristic for mermen. "Something like that," he said with a grin.
Sherlock didn't take the unintentional gesture personally; nearly everyone did that after touching him. People naturally didn't expect such a cold, clammy hand. "Well, I'm sure you'll find our tanks are in perfect condition and our animals are relatively happy." Save for the hunger strike they seem to be on, he thought with mild annoyance.
Molly closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. "Sherlock, Dr. Watson is going to be here for a while, investigating unusually high toxin levels in the Thames near here. He's new to the area, so I hope you'll make an effort to make him feel welcome and show him how beautiful London can be this time of the year," she said, her voice very similar to that of a mother whose child is being particularly obstinate.
Sherlock fought the urge to roll his eyes at her. Did she want him to give John a tour of London now? Definitely not in the job description. Though he wasn't too unpleasant to look at, this would mean cutting down on impromptu swims. "Of course," he said, only a hint of sarcasm in his voice, though Molly probably caught it anyway.
"Chatty, aren't you?" John twinkled. There was no other word for it: he was grinning and his dark blue eyes were shining and he was twinkling at him.
Sherlock huffed a bit. "I'm a marine biologist — fish guy — not a tour guide, so forgive me if I seem a bit distant," he snapped. Didn't Molly know he should be feeding those ungrateful fish right now?
John chuckled, choosing not to reply. "I love your hair," he commented randomly. "That's the most amazing blue I've ever seen."
Molly looked at John as if he'd grown an extra head. "Dr. Holmes has black hair," she said.
John shook his head. "No, it's the color of tiny sapphires, seemingly black, but really the deepest blue." He lowered his voice so only Sherlock would hear. "I write romance novels under the name Johanna D'Jacqueline."
That put a rather amused grin on Sherlock's face, but... how had he known what color his hair truly was? No one ever knew, only his mother and he knew. She had once told him that his true love would be the one to see him for who he truly was, but he had always brushed it off as more of her hippie nonsense or at the very most a metaphor for his atrocious attitude towards others. He felt a slight blush color his cheeks at the way John described his hair and turned around, appearing busy with work, but really to hide the blush. "I'll give you your tour, but I really do have fish to feed."
John smiled, not very subtly checking out Sherlock's arse. Molly cleared her throat in embarrassment, getting his attention away from Sherlock. "Actually, I was just taking John on a tour," she told Sherlock. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Holmes. We'll leave you to your work... and don't forget to say hello to the new intern."
Sherlock sighed. "You can just call me Sherlock, you know..." he mumbled and continued down the hall to the main tank he was in charge of. He could already hear the fish and sharks complaining about the horrid 'thudding sound.' He couldn't blame them, the 'music' they played in this place was truly terrible. What had Molly meant by new intern anyway? He suddenly cringed as he heard someone slide up next to him. As early as it was, he could already tell that today would definitely be disagreeing with him. Soon, fish, I promise.
"Hiiiiiiiiiii!" the young woman/new intern chirped. "You're, like, Dr. Holmes, right? Ohmigod! I'm super glad I have a chance to meet you! Because I'm, like, going to learn so much from you!" She giggled obnoxiously.
Sherlock sighed, his eyes looking her up and down. "I take it you 'really, really' liked dolphins as a child?" he concluded. He knew her type well; they never seemed to grow mentally after the age of five and probably fully believed in wishing on stars and unicorns. Now he would be stuck working with her for six months before she was replaced by someone equally stupid.
The young woman's jaw dropped. "Ohmigod, how'd you guess?" she asked, sounding as amazed as she would if he were a talking dolphin.
It didn't take Sherlock's powers of deduction figure that out at all. "There are only three types of marine biologists, and you're obviously the kind that 'really, really' likes dolphins..." He didn't elaborate on the other two kinds. "You do know there are no dolphins in the Thames right?"
"Wow! Dr. Hooper said you were, like, rilly rilly smart, like a genius or something!" the young woman exclaimed. She flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder. "I'm, like, Janine Hawkins. It's, like, rilly rilly great to meet you!" Her American accent was really starting to grate on Sherlock's nerves.
"Well, I have several hungry fish I need to be attending, Janine, so if you don't mind, I'm going to go do my job," Sherlock said with poorly concealed annoyance. "Go do something useful."
Janine stepped a bit closer to him. "Dr. Hooper told me to help you and Dr. Watson and Sally and, like, everyone else."
"Well then, why don't you go help one of them instead?" Sherlock suggested, his voice filled with sarcastic enthusiasm. "I'm sure Sally would just love to talk about all the different kinds of dolphins with you!" He hated Sally to his very core and Sally of course hated 'dolphin girls,' but was often too polite to tell them to piss off, unlike she was with him.
"I'd, like, rilly rather help you ," Janine said in an overly flirtatious manner, entirely oblivious to Sherlock's not-so-subtle dismissal.
"Yes, well..." Sherlock didn't consider himself attracted to anyone, really, but if it would get this irritating girl away from him... he could always act. "Actually, could you check my hair, honey? I can never quite get the hairspray just right in the back." He held up his hand, pretending to inspect his nails as flamboyantly as he could.
Janine's eyes widened, realization dawning on her and disappointment flooding her features. "I think I'll go see if I can learn the register in the gift shop," she mumbled. Her perky smile returned, though without the flirtatious aspect. "See ya, Dr. Holmes." She pranced off in the direction of the gift shop. All of a sudden, a round of applause sounded behind Sherlock.
Sherlock went still at that. Great, now someone else at work probably thought he was gay too. He turned to see who was likely mocking him.
John beamed at him. "That was brilliant!" he chuckled. "I can't believe she didn't notice how abruptly you became the stereotypical gay man. It was rather obviously not you." He was standing a bit close to Sherlock, but not quite in his personal space. "Are you actually gay or was it entirely an act?"
"I'm... married to my fish," Sherlock said slowly. People didn't tend to like it when he said he wasn't interested in anyone.
"I see," John said slowly, looking quite a bit disappointed. "It's just my luck that none of the attractive men are ever gay." He sighed. "I'm sorry for interrupting you... I know you wanted to get back to work... I'll see you around, yeah?"
"It's an open relationship... " Sherlock blurted out of no where, not quite sure where that had come from. "I... uh... fish need feeding... I have to go get in the scuba gear..." He flushed a bit.
John's mood instantly brightened. "I'd hate to keep you from them, then..." he said, his voice and grin saying the opposite.
Sherlock failed to hide a small smile. Was John flirting with him? No one ever flirted with him... well, annoying people had, but he wasn't counting them. He hadn't realized that he had just counted John amongst the few and rare 'non-annoying' people he had ever encountered. "I'll just... um, see you around then." he hurried off to get ready to feed the fish and sharks some chum as they annoyingly called out to him all at once about the horrible thudding.
Yes, I know, I hate it too but there's really nothing I can do about it so just eat already, Sherlock thought to them.
Fish man bring fish, they all chanted in his head.
That was probably as good a title as anything. All those years in school just to be 'Fish man' who 'brings fish.'
A large shark swam over, knocking Sherlock off his balance. As hard as he had tried throughout his life, he had never quite gotten the hang of swimming with legs. He had tried to learn countless times before, his mother was ever so patient in trying to teach him, but it was as if his body knew it could merely grow a tail to swim and so refused to learn in any other manner.
Stubborn legs... he thought as he lost all concept of up and down and ended up upside down in the tank looking utterly ridiculous. His bag of chum fell helplessly to the ground where many of the fish would refuse to even touch it.
This is all your fault, he thought to the fish bitterly.
A sea turtle swam by, not giving him the time of day. Thudding, bad. No eat.
John stood outside of the tank, watching Sherlock flail helplessly and chuckling. It was hilarious how someone so graceful on land — and a marine biologist, no less — could be so uncoordinated in the water. He waved at Sherlock, smiling at him fondly.
From his hazy and distorted vision due to his angle, Sherlock thought he saw someone waving at him. He groaned; it was John of course. Could he manage to embarrass himself any more today? He did his best to reorient himself in the tank and swim — attempt to swim — back to the top where he could change back into his normal clothes. He would just have to try feeding them again later.
John climbed the steps up to the observation deck and helped haul Sherlock out of the water. "I can't believe you don't know how to swim," he teased playfully as Sherlock went into the changing room and changed into his normal clothes, his voice making it infinitely more flirtatious than mean. "How did you manage that one?" he asked when Sherlock emerged, drying his hair with a towel.
Sherlock grimaced a bit, not always very good at picking up flirtatious tones, "I know... I've tried... I just cant," he huffed, annoyed at his damn human body for making him look like a complete fool.
"It was actually rather endearing," John added, realizing that Sherlock hadn't noticed that he was not trying to insult him.
"It's... really embarrassing, actually," Sherlock said, feeling heat creep onto his cheeks again. Damn it, he never blushed. Why did he keep blushing today? "But thank you anyway..."
John reached up and gently ran the backs of his fingers over Sherlock's cheek. "You have a very attractive blush..."
That only served to make Sherlock go redder, wishing he could sink back into the cool water to lessen the heat in his cheeks. "T-tour... I promised to take you around London. We should go." What was wrong with him? He couldn't even speak properly now.
John withdrew his hand and nodded. "Alright." Why was Sherlock running away from him? It was obvious the blue haired man was attracted to him.
Sherlock swallowed thickly, he missed those smooth hands on his cheeks. John was so warm, unlike him. "Hungry?" It was nearing lunchtime.
John grinned, "Starving."
Sherlock swallowed. "There's a sandwich shop down the street from here, I'm sure you can find it." He rushed off without a word. He had originally planned to go with John, but it would be pointless. John seemed to want to date him and that simply couldn't happen. He could never let someone into his life like that, they would suspect something was going on and eventually figure out what he really was. No, they just simply couldn't be.
John watched Sherlock hurry away sadly, but he refused to give up hope. He would keep trying and maybe, with some luck, Sherlock would eventually stop fighting him.