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Fill: Connection part 1c anonymous November 10 2011, 03:40:07 UTC
“I’m John,” the man at the door stated, in a tone that suggested Sherlock already knew who he was.

“Sherlock Holmes,” Sherlock replied, not budging from the door. John picked up a suitcase he’d sat down on the steps with his left hand, and a cane leaning up against 221 Baker Street with his right.

“Shall we, then?” he asked, nodding toward the building.

Sherlock cleared his throat. “Ahem, yes, of course. This way.”
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Sherlock wasn’t sure how the sexual congress would initiate, so he decided to let John lead, and fell back into his default mode of deduction. John stood, glancing around the flat, no longer relying on his cane for support yet not asking for a chair. Limp: psychosomatic. Tan lines, haircut: military, Iraq or Afghanistan. A mark on his neck where a stethoscope had rested for a number of hours, just recently removed, and the smell of antiseptic still clinging to his clothes: doctor, arrived straight from work.

“I…guess I’ll put on the kettle then?” John suggested after a few moments of silence. Sherlock waved him toward the kitchen, still involved in his thoughts.

A military man, that made enough sense. John didn’t faint, or vomit, or run away screaming when he had to push aside the bowl of severed noses to get to the milk when he opened the fridge. Medical background was another bonus; Mycroft wouldn’t want to send anyone that he thought might accidentally injure his brother. Friendly and plain enough to put a nervous man at ease. Sherlock might have been relieved, if he had ever indulged in such petty emotions, if not for the case.

The bloody case. Why was there a case? What could John possibly need for their endeavor, other than the standard lubricants and condoms? Certainly Mycroft hadn’t hired John for anything…irregular. Although, Sherlock had been meaning to do some tests on the bruising patterns caused by non-police issued handcuffs, so perhaps a little bondage gear would not be unacceptable.

The kettle whistled. John talked to himself as he peered into cabinets. “Jar of rats, old shoe…ah, tea cups! Might need a bit of a rinse…” Sherlock listened as the blond turned on the tap and washed out the cups (which were perfectly clean, he might add. He wasn’t a barbarian.).
“Cup of tea, Sherlock?” John offered.

……………………….

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Re: Fill: Connection part 1c anonymous November 10 2011, 04:38:18 UTC
F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5

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Re: Fill: Connection part 1c anonymous November 10 2011, 07:25:12 UTC
Oh my god, this is brilliant! LOVE!

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Re: Fill: Connection part 1c anonymous November 10 2011, 17:09:47 UTC
Perfect! More more more!

I love how nervous Sherlock is (even if he's pretending he's not).

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