Of Long Legs and Callused Hands (Part one of two)
Sherlock walked the concrete wall of the bridge his long legs stretching out ahead of him in quick graceful movements looking to John like some sort of macabre acrobat. He paced the barrier as he examined the calmed water below. Then his knees jutted out at his sides as he bent to bring his pocket magnifier to the rough surface.
“He was definitely here.” He popped back up to continue pacing.
“Who?” John asked automatically his attention instead on Sherlock’s feet swiftly moving one in front of the other and swiveling the detective’s entire body with nothing so much as a slight push off.
“Our man of course! Douglas Torrington.” Sherlock stilled suddenly his back to John. “He had come here, led by the note. ‘Urgent’ it said. But he knew something. He-“ Sherlock suddenly dropped until he was seated making John tense at the sudden movement then he swiftly swung his legs around until they hooked the edge of the wall and in the next moment the lanky man was now dangling off the bridge. John sprinted over, his heart he was sure had stopped in his chest.
“Sher-“ but before he could call out to the man he heard the all too familiar shout of triumph muffled slightly by the soft wind and the blood that must surely be rushing to his genius brain.
“Of course! It’s so obvious!” His glee rang from the side of the bridge as clearly as if he were standing right in front of him. John was peeking over the side now though he still couldn’t see Sherlock’s face. He imagined the man to have that same wide eyed excitement even fancied his hands clapped together. Hanging like a bat in the exact posture he might exude in their flat.
“Sherlock, you bloody idiot” John grumbled as he clamped his hands over one of Sherlock’s feet as it had shifted slightly away from him and John would have none of that. Abandoning his position staring over the wall all that was visible now were those impossiblely long legs, ever a prominent part of the detective (and maybe the doctors favorite) but he would be much relieved to see the rest of him. “Ok you figured it out. How about you come back up now and explain it to me.” John bit back a growl as he tightened his hold on the black clad limb, preparing himself to pull the stubborn man up if he had to.
“John, give me your phone.”
“You can very well make a text from up here!” He barked incredulously. The muscles in the leg he held constricted causing John to tighten his grip in surprise. The next moment the detectives face was hovering before his own.
“For the camera.” Sherlock voice was surprisingly soft and John wondered if he had upset the man somehow. He was use to Sherlock’s sudden mood swings but they still took him by surprise, often having hurt the so called sociopath without even realizing it. He wasn’t looking upset now though, only that curious look that he got when John said something particularly foreign to him or did something his rationality blanched at. Now he was unabashedly staring at John’s hands that were digging, probably painfully, into his legs as if he were just noticing them there, or now just bothering to acknowledge them and their possible motivation for being there. Sherlock’s slender fingers ghosted over John’s knuckles before resting lightly on his wrist. He looked up again at John’s face and smiled. John nearly dropped at the sight of it. Sherlock could land a smile like an atomic bomb. All suddenness and radiance. It took his breath away quite literally so instead of breathing John shifted slightly, moving the hand not under Sherlock’s he fished in his pocket for his phone.
Finding it he dropped it in Sherlock’s awaiting palm. “Make it quick.” There was a bit of a plea in his voice but neither acknowledged it. John couldn’t explain it but there was a great sense of unease slowly working its way up his spine, more so than his usual misgivings at Sherlock’s brilliant stupidity and the sooner Sherlock was off that bloody wall the better.
“Of course” Was all Sherlock said with another radioactive smile the one used only for John and then that mischievous wink before he lowered himself back down in one fluid motion. John rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself.
A moment later Sherlock legs gave a sudden jerk, popping the tall frame back up to sit on the wall his legs sliding out of John’s grasp to dangle in front of him. John let go of a breath he hadn’t known he was holding at seeing the man upright again. John’s concerned hands now resting on either side of Sherlock’s legs, fingers twitched as if ready to grab for them again. Sherlock smirked at the doctor’s exasperated expression.
“You think you might be getting down from the wall now?” The doctor asked looking up at the grinning sociopath. “Because you are-“ John stopped as Sherlock’s eyes widened.
The detectives hands moved to grab his shoulders his name escaped his mouth in a gasp “John-“ Before a chaos of noise exploded behind him and a force like a train rammed into his back forcing him into Sherlock’s graceful, lovely legs before all went black.
“He was definitely here.” He popped back up to continue pacing.
“Who?” John asked automatically his attention instead on Sherlock’s feet swiftly moving one in front of the other and swiveling the detective’s entire body with nothing so much as a slight push off.
“Our man of course! Douglas Torrington.” Sherlock stilled suddenly his back to John. “He had come here, led by the note. ‘Urgent’ it said. But he knew something. He-“ Sherlock suddenly dropped until he was seated making John tense at the sudden movement then he swiftly swung his legs around until they hooked the edge of the wall and in the next moment the lanky man was now dangling off the bridge. John sprinted over, his heart he was sure had stopped in his chest.
“Sher-“ but before he could call out to the man he heard the all too familiar shout of triumph muffled slightly by the soft wind and the blood that must surely be rushing to his genius brain.
“Of course! It’s so obvious!” His glee rang from the side of the bridge as clearly as if he were standing right in front of him. John was peeking over the side now though he still couldn’t see Sherlock’s face. He imagined the man to have that same wide eyed excitement even fancied his hands clapped together. Hanging like a bat in the exact posture he might exude in their flat.
“Sherlock, you bloody idiot” John grumbled as he clamped his hands over one of Sherlock’s feet as it had shifted slightly away from him and John would have none of that. Abandoning his position staring over the wall all that was visible now were those impossiblely long legs, ever a prominent part of the detective (and maybe the doctors favorite) but he would be much relieved to see the rest of him. “Ok you figured it out. How about you come back up now and explain it to me.” John bit back a growl as he tightened his hold on the black clad limb, preparing himself to pull the stubborn man up if he had to.
“John, give me your phone.”
“You can very well make a text from up here!” He barked incredulously. The muscles in the leg he held constricted causing John to tighten his grip in surprise. The next moment the detectives face was hovering before his own.
“For the camera.” Sherlock voice was surprisingly soft and John wondered if he had upset the man somehow. He was use to Sherlock’s sudden mood swings but they still took him by surprise, often having hurt the so called sociopath without even realizing it. He wasn’t looking upset now though, only that curious look that he got when John said something particularly foreign to him or did something his rationality blanched at. Now he was unabashedly staring at John’s hands that were digging, probably painfully, into his legs as if he were just noticing them there, or now just bothering to acknowledge them and their possible motivation for being there. Sherlock’s slender fingers ghosted over John’s knuckles before resting lightly on his wrist. He looked up again at John’s face and smiled. John nearly dropped at the sight of it. Sherlock could land a smile like an atomic bomb. All suddenness and radiance. It took his breath away quite literally so instead of breathing John shifted slightly, moving the hand not under Sherlock’s he fished in his pocket for his phone.
Finding it he dropped it in Sherlock’s awaiting palm. “Make it quick.” There was a bit of a plea in his voice but neither acknowledged it. John couldn’t explain it but there was a great sense of unease slowly working its way up his spine, more so than his usual misgivings at Sherlock’s brilliant stupidity and the sooner Sherlock was off that bloody wall the better.
“Of course” Was all Sherlock said with another radioactive smile the one used only for John and then that mischievous wink before he lowered himself back down in one fluid motion. John rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself.
A moment later Sherlock legs gave a sudden jerk, popping the tall frame back up to sit on the wall his legs sliding out of John’s grasp to dangle in front of him. John let go of a breath he hadn’t known he was holding at seeing the man upright again. John’s concerned hands now resting on either side of Sherlock’s legs, fingers twitched as if ready to grab for them again. Sherlock smirked at the doctor’s exasperated expression.
“You think you might be getting down from the wall now?” The doctor asked looking up at the grinning sociopath. “Because you are-“ John stopped as Sherlock’s eyes widened.
The detectives hands moved to grab his shoulders his name escaped his mouth in a gasp “John-“ Before a chaos of noise exploded behind him and a force like a train rammed into his back forcing him into Sherlock’s graceful, lovely legs before all went black.