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AU Stanford introduces John to Jim instead of Sherlock
anonymous
March 30 2014, 22:11:02 UTC
John, after being invalided home from the army, is walking home from his therapy apointment when he runs into his old friend Mike Stanford- they chat, and John mentions absently that no one would want him for a flat mate- turns out he's the second person to say that to Mike that day.
So, Sanford being the great buddy he is, introduces John to Jim (or Richard Brooks, I like using that as his real name and Moriarty as a stage name of sorts). one thing leads to another, and they end up as flatmates- more things happen, and the next thing adrenaline junkie Watson knows, he's shot a copper by the make of Jeff Hope to keep Jim from being arrested, and he's quickly becoming tied up in Moriarty's complex web, and his games with one detective Sherlock Holmes.
And Watson /knows/ it's wrong, and bad, and he's getting in way over his head- but he /likes/ it. And Jim doesn't even have to manipulate him into helping- not really anyway.
Bonus: John becomes what the fandom has made Sebastian Moran.
Bonus 2: John is 'kidnapped' (the same as he was by Mycroft) by Jim's older brother James Moriarty- a math professor at Cambridge who is the true 'spider' behind the web.
Re: AU Stanford introduces John to Jim instead of Sherlock
anonymous
May 30 2014, 03:30:58 UTC
/Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap./ Although John knew he should-and in a way, did-hate the sound his cane made against the pavement, he didn’t. Not really, anyway. It was… comforting, somehow. As if he was keeping tempo with his steps. It was almost like being back in Afghanistan and marching along with his comrades during a drill or a mission… No. There was no way back to that life, so there was no point in thinking about it now. /Concentrate, Watson. Left, right, left, right./ A voice in the back of his head snorted, reminding him that his steps were closer to /left right-left right-left/ now because of his leg. He shut it down immediately, knowing he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about the war any more. He was meant to be recovering, becoming a /normal/ citizen with a /normal/ life and a /normal/ job, just like everyone else in London. As much as he wanted to be able to relax and recover, he couldn’t get over the itch in the back of his mind or the hunger for something… something- “John? John Watson!” The voice startled John out of his thoughts and he looked up, awkwardly recovering in the conversation and feeling guilty about seeming uninterested. For this reason, he let Mike drag him to the local café for coffee before they stopped to sit on a bench and chat. Mike was just the way John had remembered him: friendly, happy, and completely lacking an appropriate filter or an alarm that said, /Oi, mate, now might be a good time to stop talking./ He was fairly certain that the comment about being “shot at” was the reason Mike had wanted to chat for a while, which was nice but unnecessary. Right now all John really wanted was a long, hot bath and an even longer nap. He made a half-joking comment about his lack of available candidates for a flatmate and looked over when he heard the thoughtful laugh with which Mike responded. “What?” he asked, truly curious about the change in tone. “You’re the second person to say that to me today,” Mike answered. John blinked and processed for a beat. “Who was the first?”
Re: AU Stanford introduces John to Jim instead of Sherlock
anonymous
May 30 2014, 03:32:27 UTC
2/? The lab at Bart’s was a lot /cleaner/ than he remembered, for one thing. It smelled faintly of disinfectant rather than formalin, which seemed a huge improvement to John. As they entered the room a tall, thin man with piercing eyes and a ridiculous, dramatic coat brushed past them, holding up his cell phone in a familiar plea for just one bar of service. John stepped aside to let him pass before following Mike in. “Bit different from my day,” he commented, looking around and smiling politely. “Nicer microscopes, new paint job, modern technology…” The last observation led his eyes to settle on a dark mess of hair peeking up from beneath the desk beside one of the computers in the room. He glanced at Mike but the other’s slightly smug expression didn’t help much. “Oh, sorry, are we interrupting?” he asked, shifting to see who was there. He heard a muffled bang and an equally muffled, “/Shit!/” before the speaker peeked over the desk to reveal that the hair was in fact attached to a human being. “Sorry,” the man said with an awkward grin and raised eyebrows. “Thought I was alone. Computer’s buggered, so I-” He stopped when he saw Mike. “Mike, hi! What are you doing here?” “I wanted to introduce you to an old friend. Jim Brook, John Watson. John, Jim. He’s from the IT department.” When John looked over at Mike, the pleased smile was back on the other man’s face. “It’s nice to meet you,” the younger man-Jim-murmured, standing up to go shake hands with John. He didn’t flinch at the cane; in fact, he shook John’s right hand rather than his left. “You, too,” John agreed. He could feel Jim sizing him up as they stood there and he couldn’t help doing the same to the dark haired IT specialist. The other was just a couple of inches taller than John, but his manner and posture made him seem much shorter. He had a smile on his face that could be described as awkward and apologetic, but there was something sharper beneath it that made John straighten his spine a bit. Jim seemed to notice the shift and the smile became even toothier. If that was even possible. “Well, I guess Mike told you about the flat, yeah?” The corners of Jim’s eyes crinkled a little. John blinked a couple of times before shaking his head, confused. “Odd. If he thought you’d be interested in being my flatmate he should have. I’ve told him enough about it that he should know at least a little bit.” “Wait, flatmate? Who said anything about being flatmates?” Jim raised his eyebrows before blushing a bit. “Oh, sorry. I thought Mike had told you. I’m looking for a flatmate. And I think you are too, actually.” “You told him?” When Mike shook his head, John’s brow furrowed. “How did…” “Well, Mike asked about my search for a flat-I just moved out of my brother’s, you see-so I started babbling on about the one I’d found. It’s pretty close, actually, if you want to come see it. Anyway, then he brought you here, so I guessed he’d found out you needed a place to stay.” Jim shrugged in a gesture that seemed like a mockery of humility. John blinked and pushed the thought away, confused about why he didn’t trust the puppy-ish man before him. “Oh.” John smiled before nodding. “Sure, I’ll take a look.” “Great! Here, let me just…” Jim grabbed a scrap of paper and a pen before jotting down some numbers as well as an address. “My phone number, and the address. Are you available to look at it tomorrow at about eleven? My work hours aren’t great, but that’ll work for me.” “That works. Thank you.” Jim nodded, grinning again. “See you tomorrow!” He left the room, waving at the two as he did. “He’s a sweet kid, really,” Mike said. “I think you two will get along really well.” John agreed before eventually making his excuses so he could go home and stare at the piece of paper, wondering what he was getting himself into.
So, Sanford being the great buddy he is, introduces John to Jim (or Richard Brooks, I like using that as his real name and Moriarty as a stage name of sorts). one thing leads to another, and they end up as flatmates- more things happen, and the next thing adrenaline junkie Watson knows, he's shot a copper by the make of Jeff Hope to keep Jim from being arrested, and he's quickly becoming tied up in Moriarty's complex web, and his games with one detective Sherlock Holmes.
And Watson /knows/ it's wrong, and bad, and he's getting in way over his head- but he /likes/ it. And Jim doesn't even have to manipulate him into helping- not really anyway.
Bonus: John becomes what the fandom has made Sebastian Moran.
Bonus 2: John is 'kidnapped' (the same as he was by Mycroft) by Jim's older brother James Moriarty- a math professor at Cambridge who is the true 'spider' behind the web.
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No. There was no way back to that life, so there was no point in thinking about it now. /Concentrate, Watson. Left, right, left, right./ A voice in the back of his head snorted, reminding him that his steps were closer to /left right-left right-left/ now because of his leg. He shut it down immediately, knowing he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about the war any more. He was meant to be recovering, becoming a /normal/ citizen with a /normal/ life and a /normal/ job, just like everyone else in London. As much as he wanted to be able to relax and recover, he couldn’t get over the itch in the back of his mind or the hunger for something… something-
“John? John Watson!”
The voice startled John out of his thoughts and he looked up, awkwardly recovering in the conversation and feeling guilty about seeming uninterested. For this reason, he let Mike drag him to the local café for coffee before they stopped to sit on a bench and chat.
Mike was just the way John had remembered him: friendly, happy, and completely lacking an appropriate filter or an alarm that said, /Oi, mate, now might be a good time to stop talking./ He was fairly certain that the comment about being “shot at” was the reason Mike had wanted to chat for a while, which was nice but unnecessary. Right now all John really wanted was a long, hot bath and an even longer nap. He made a half-joking comment about his lack of available candidates for a flatmate and looked over when he heard the thoughtful laugh with which Mike responded. “What?” he asked, truly curious about the change in tone.
“You’re the second person to say that to me today,” Mike answered.
John blinked and processed for a beat. “Who was the first?”
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The lab at Bart’s was a lot /cleaner/ than he remembered, for one thing. It smelled faintly of disinfectant rather than formalin, which seemed a huge improvement to John. As they entered the room a tall, thin man with piercing eyes and a ridiculous, dramatic coat brushed past them, holding up his cell phone in a familiar plea for just one bar of service. John stepped aside to let him pass before following Mike in. “Bit different from my day,” he commented, looking around and smiling politely. “Nicer microscopes, new paint job, modern technology…”
The last observation led his eyes to settle on a dark mess of hair peeking up from beneath the desk beside one of the computers in the room. He glanced at Mike but the other’s slightly smug expression didn’t help much. “Oh, sorry, are we interrupting?” he asked, shifting to see who was there.
He heard a muffled bang and an equally muffled, “/Shit!/” before the speaker peeked over the desk to reveal that the hair was in fact attached to a human being. “Sorry,” the man said with an awkward grin and raised eyebrows. “Thought I was alone. Computer’s buggered, so I-” He stopped when he saw Mike. “Mike, hi! What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to introduce you to an old friend. Jim Brook, John Watson. John, Jim. He’s from the IT department.” When John looked over at Mike, the pleased smile was back on the other man’s face.
“It’s nice to meet you,” the younger man-Jim-murmured, standing up to go shake hands with John. He didn’t flinch at the cane; in fact, he shook John’s right hand rather than his left.
“You, too,” John agreed. He could feel Jim sizing him up as they stood there and he couldn’t help doing the same to the dark haired IT specialist.
The other was just a couple of inches taller than John, but his manner and posture made him seem much shorter. He had a smile on his face that could be described as awkward and apologetic, but there was something sharper beneath it that made John straighten his spine a bit. Jim seemed to notice the shift and the smile became even toothier. If that was even possible.
“Well, I guess Mike told you about the flat, yeah?” The corners of Jim’s eyes crinkled a little. John blinked a couple of times before shaking his head, confused. “Odd. If he thought you’d be interested in being my flatmate he should have. I’ve told him enough about it that he should know at least a little bit.”
“Wait, flatmate? Who said anything about being flatmates?”
Jim raised his eyebrows before blushing a bit. “Oh, sorry. I thought Mike had told you. I’m looking for a flatmate. And I think you are too, actually.”
“You told him?” When Mike shook his head, John’s brow furrowed. “How did…”
“Well, Mike asked about my search for a flat-I just moved out of my brother’s, you see-so I started babbling on about the one I’d found. It’s pretty close, actually, if you want to come see it. Anyway, then he brought you here, so I guessed he’d found out you needed a place to stay.” Jim shrugged in a gesture that seemed like a mockery of humility. John blinked and pushed the thought away, confused about why he didn’t trust the puppy-ish man before him.
“Oh.” John smiled before nodding. “Sure, I’ll take a look.”
“Great! Here, let me just…” Jim grabbed a scrap of paper and a pen before jotting down some numbers as well as an address. “My phone number, and the address. Are you available to look at it tomorrow at about eleven? My work hours aren’t great, but that’ll work for me.”
“That works. Thank you.”
Jim nodded, grinning again. “See you tomorrow!” He left the room, waving at the two as he did.
“He’s a sweet kid, really,” Mike said. “I think you two will get along really well.”
John agreed before eventually making his excuses so he could go home and stare at the piece of paper, wondering what he was getting himself into.
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