Re: Stolen Moments pt 10/?velvet_maceJanuary 8 2011, 21:33:25 UTC
It was inevitable that John would get a job. He'd been itching to find one since they'd moved in. His fiscal jitters had grown worse with each passing week, even though Sherlock had happily shared the fees he'd collected from his clients. John's pension barely covered rent and left nothing for the thousand other little necessities in life. A cab ride here, a new umbrella there. A coffee. Plastic containers to keep Sherlock's experiments separate from the perishables.
It hadn't helped that the last three clients were too poor to give more than a token payment for his services and the Yard never paid at all. Sherlock didn't much care. He dipped into his trust fund when times were lean, and saved when times were fat. But John didn't come from money. For the better part of two months, he'd sucked it up and let his meager savings slowly dwindle, but he'd come to the point where he simply couldn't do it anymore.
The crisis came to a head when the last of John's savings gave out, embarrassingly enough at Tesco. To Sherlock, the solution was a blindingly simple one: John could use his bank account until such time as he found solvency again. But for John, taking charity was an affront to his masculinity.
The next day, he had a job. Just like that.
Sherlock had always suspected that John's lack of work had more to do with his motivation to find a job than his ability to land it. Perhaps he was expecting Sherlock to keep him employed, not understanding that Sherlock had no control over when the jobs came or in what form.
Sherlock reluctantly accepted the new job, but what he didn't expect was that John would further complicate his life with Sarah Sawyer. That was simply taking things too far.
As hard as it was giving up John to his profession, having to compete for his free time as well - and in the middle of a truly juicy job - unacceptable!
There was no practical reason for the girlfriend. She took up John's time and gave nothing in return. She doubtless expected John to pay for entertainments and meals that he couldn't afford. She was an interference.
"You see her all day at work, why on earth would you want to waste your time with her now. We have a case!"
John glared at him. "You know if I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous."
Sherlock, mortally affronted, glared back. "To be jealous would mean that I considered her to be in some way a threat, which couldn't be farther from the case. She cannot possibly provide you with anything remotely like the stimulation I do. She certainly doesn't need your help as much as I do. What can you possibly get from her that you wouldn't from me?"
"Well she can certainly provide me one kind of stimulation you can't," said John.
"Oh, bah," sneered Sherlock, throwing his hands in the air. "Is your libido really so rampant that you'd exchange an exciting case with people's lives at stake for an evening of vapid entertainment and even duller conversation? All for possible promise of an orgasm, which you're more than capable of providing yourself?"
"Not all of us are married to our work," said John, in that patient, doctorly tone that all but dripped condescension. He then readied himself for his date.
It hadn't helped that the last three clients were too poor to give more than a token payment for his services and the Yard never paid at all. Sherlock didn't much care. He dipped into his trust fund when times were lean, and saved when times were fat. But John didn't come from money. For the better part of two months, he'd sucked it up and let his meager savings slowly dwindle, but he'd come to the point where he simply couldn't do it anymore.
The crisis came to a head when the last of John's savings gave out, embarrassingly enough at Tesco. To Sherlock, the solution was a blindingly simple one: John could use his bank account until such time as he found solvency again. But for John, taking charity was an affront to his masculinity.
The next day, he had a job. Just like that.
Sherlock had always suspected that John's lack of work had more to do with his motivation to find a job than his ability to land it. Perhaps he was expecting Sherlock to keep him employed, not understanding that Sherlock had no control over when the jobs came or in what form.
Sherlock reluctantly accepted the new job, but what he didn't expect was that John would further complicate his life with Sarah Sawyer. That was simply taking things too far.
As hard as it was giving up John to his profession, having to compete for his free time as well - and in the middle of a truly juicy job - unacceptable!
There was no practical reason for the girlfriend. She took up John's time and gave nothing in return. She doubtless expected John to pay for entertainments and meals that he couldn't afford. She was an interference.
"You see her all day at work, why on earth would you want to waste your time with her now. We have a case!"
John glared at him. "You know if I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous."
Sherlock, mortally affronted, glared back. "To be jealous would mean that I considered her to be in some way a threat, which couldn't be farther from the case. She cannot possibly provide you with anything remotely like the stimulation I do. She certainly doesn't need your help as much as I do. What can you possibly get from her that you wouldn't from me?"
"Well she can certainly provide me one kind of stimulation you can't," said John.
"Oh, bah," sneered Sherlock, throwing his hands in the air. "Is your libido really so rampant that you'd exchange an exciting case with people's lives at stake for an evening of vapid entertainment and even duller conversation? All for possible promise of an orgasm, which you're more than capable of providing yourself?"
"Not all of us are married to our work," said John, in that patient, doctorly tone that all but dripped condescension. He then readied himself for his date.
It'll blow over, Sherlock consoled himself.
Reply
Leave a comment