The Calthorpe Project
Title: The Calthorpe Project
Rating: G
From my own prompt: I'd like to see John gardening. J/S preferred (just because it has the potential to be so damn cute!) :)
Warnings: Bit of sap. Not my best work, for sure, but kind of cute.
John is bored. He's been bored. No cases meant no running around and there had been little to do at the hospital since everyone seemed to be doing a fairly good job of keeping healthy. Sherlock had managed not to completely lose his mind, but John was having a bit of a time dealing with the man without going mad himself.
"I need to get out of the flat..." He mumbled to himself as Sherlock cleaned up the mess of a minor explosion.
So, he consulted the internet. Something to do outdoors in London. Something that could get him out of the flat for a few hours.
"Where are you off to?" Sherlock asked from his place on the sofa.
"The Calthorpe Project." John replied, pulling on his coat.
Sherlock sat up. "You're dressed to work. Gardening?"
"Yeah. I volunteered a couple hours there today."
"You've given yourself more work? Do you hate me that much?"
John rolled his eyes. Sherlock was in one of his moods... the needy, insecure one (though notably not without a hint of sarcasm). "No. But you do drive me a bit mad when you're like this. I need to get outside."
"I can't see why." He was now inspecting his nails indignantly. John leaned over.
"It could do you some good, too. Give you a bit of colour, you monochrome bastard."
With a peck on the lips, John set out for the garden.
John returned that evening with a bag full of vegetables.
"You've taken up cooking now, too?" Sherlock said.
"Not really. It'll probably be better than take-away, though."
"So, you spend the day rolling around in a community garden and bring home vegetables, then you plan to cook? What mind controlling device did they give you and where can I get one?"
John scoffed. "No mind controlling necessary. And I wasn't rolling around in the garden. I was weeding."
"It took you two hours to weed?"
"Well, not just weeding. Pruning and planting. Oh, and I got you this."
He pulled a small bouquet of flowers out. Sherlock snorted.
"Flowers? You're getting sappy and romantic on me."
"Not really." John replied. "Look closely. I'm sure you know the language of flowers."
Sherlock stood and took the bundle out of John's hand. It was a bouquet of a red rose and bay leaves. He smiled, setting it down.
"You put that together yourself, I take."
"Absolutely. Had to filch it, which might not have been the best idea for my first day."
"Definitely not." Then, he leaned in to whisper in John's ear. "But I'm glad for it."
~Fin
A/N: I know there are a billion different versions of what flowers mean. The one I was looking at said that red roses mean romantic love (I think that one's pretty universal) and that bay leaves mean "I change but in death." I thought it fit pretty well.
Also, the Calthorpe Project is a real group and they happen to be the closest community garden to Baker Street. For any of you who live in the area, it looks like a good thing!
Rating: G
From my own prompt: I'd like to see John gardening. J/S preferred (just because it has the potential to be so damn cute!) :)
Warnings: Bit of sap. Not my best work, for sure, but kind of cute.
John is bored. He's been bored. No cases meant no running around and there had been little to do at the hospital since everyone seemed to be doing a fairly good job of keeping healthy. Sherlock had managed not to completely lose his mind, but John was having a bit of a time dealing with the man without going mad himself.
"I need to get out of the flat..." He mumbled to himself as Sherlock cleaned up the mess of a minor explosion.
So, he consulted the internet. Something to do outdoors in London. Something that could get him out of the flat for a few hours.
"Where are you off to?" Sherlock asked from his place on the sofa.
"The Calthorpe Project." John replied, pulling on his coat.
Sherlock sat up. "You're dressed to work. Gardening?"
"Yeah. I volunteered a couple hours there today."
"You've given yourself more work? Do you hate me that much?"
John rolled his eyes. Sherlock was in one of his moods... the needy, insecure one (though notably not without a hint of sarcasm). "No. But you do drive me a bit mad when you're like this. I need to get outside."
"I can't see why." He was now inspecting his nails indignantly. John leaned over.
"It could do you some good, too. Give you a bit of colour, you monochrome bastard."
With a peck on the lips, John set out for the garden.
John returned that evening with a bag full of vegetables.
"You've taken up cooking now, too?" Sherlock said.
"Not really. It'll probably be better than take-away, though."
"So, you spend the day rolling around in a community garden and bring home vegetables, then you plan to cook? What mind controlling device did they give you and where can I get one?"
John scoffed. "No mind controlling necessary. And I wasn't rolling around in the garden. I was weeding."
"It took you two hours to weed?"
"Well, not just weeding. Pruning and planting. Oh, and I got you this."
He pulled a small bouquet of flowers out. Sherlock snorted.
"Flowers? You're getting sappy and romantic on me."
"Not really." John replied. "Look closely. I'm sure you know the language of flowers."
Sherlock stood and took the bundle out of John's hand. It was a bouquet of a red rose and bay leaves. He smiled, setting it down.
"You put that together yourself, I take."
"Absolutely. Had to filch it, which might not have been the best idea for my first day."
"Definitely not." Then, he leaned in to whisper in John's ear. "But I'm glad for it."
~Fin
A/N: I know there are a billion different versions of what flowers mean. The one I was looking at said that red roses mean romantic love (I think that one's pretty universal) and that bay leaves mean "I change but in death." I thought it fit pretty well.
Also, the Calthorpe Project is a real group and they happen to be the closest community garden to Baker Street. For any of you who live in the area, it looks like a good thing!