Bakery Street Boys: Chapter 1/?
Summary: AU Sherlock/John run a bakery together. Not sure where I want to go with it yet, just having a bit of fun. :3
Pairings: Sherlock/John I'll probably throw in some others later, namely Mycroft/Lestrade
Rating: Nothing over PG-13
Bakery Street Boys
“John? John Watson!” I turn around, sighing softly as the stout little man gathers his things in his arms and waddles along after me. “Mike Stamford, remember me?”
“Course I remember you!” I give him a firm, military handshake, shifting a bit to lean on my cane. He notices. Of course he notices. Who wouldn't notice? Then there's the almost imperceptible change in expression, from careless and friendly to that terrible, terrible pity. God, I'm sick of the pity. I shift my weight again and clear my throat loudly, making a move to turn away. “I'd love to chat, but I really need to get going. Taking another stab at getting a flat.” I start to walk away, sighing as I hear him pad along after.
“Looking for a place in London, yeah?”
“You know me, Mike. There's no other place for me. Not like I can afford it, though. Not on a bloody army pension.”
“Found someone to share? Harry could help, yeah?”
I laugh and shake my head, unconsciously curling my hand into a fist. “Nothing's changed there, Mike. Trust me, I won't be getting any help from the family.” I purse my lips in frustration and lean against a park bench, fiddling with my cane. “And who do you know that'd want to share with me?”
Oh, there it is. That look, that smile. He's up to something. I furrow my brow and glance away from him uncomfortably, almost afraid to ask. “W-..What is it?”
“Oh, nothing. It's just...you're the second person to tell me that today.” I frown curiously and shift to face him again, sighing in exasperation.
“Who...who was the first?”
Molly huddles outside of the door, cradling a bag of pastries, wincing every time she hears the furious pounding on the table. He's at it again, apparently. She peeks through the window to the kitchen, flour flying everywhere as he brings his fist down again and again on the mountain of dough on the counter. He's misplaced the rolling pin again. She knocks lightly on the swinging door, pushing it open hesitantly and poking her head inside. “Um...Sherlock? I've f-finished decorating the pastries. And...erm...” The little bell over the door tinkles lightly and two men walk in. “Oh, we have customers!”
He's at the door in an instant, grabbing the bag of pastries and setting them on the counter. He looks like an absolute madman, hair sticking up at odd angles, covered head to toe in flour. Maybe he doesn't realize, because he pushes past Molly without a second's hesitation, greeting the newcomers coldly. “Hello, how can I help you today?”
Oh, why couldn't he just let Molly handle the customers like usual? He always scares them off. These two stay though, sauntering up to the counter.
I walk up to the counter with Mike, casting him a nervous grin and mouthing, “A baker? Really?” Mike shrugs and reaches out to shake Sherlock's hand with a bright smile.
“Sherlock! Told you I'd get you a roommate before the day was out, didn't I? Well, here you are!” I take a tiny step back as Sherlock appraises me, seemingly unimpressed with what he finds.
“You like the cream-filled kind.” It isn't a question. He's..he's actually informing me of my favorite sweet, as though I didn't know already.
“Erm...yes? I...do.” I smile nervously, moving my cane to my left hand and holding out my right to shake. “John Watson, pleasure to meet you.”
He shakes my hand firmly, eyes sliding over me again. His eyes seem to be boring into me, picking out every little imperfection. I pull my hand away from his after one uncomfortable moment, clearing my throat. “And....your name?”
“Sherlock Holmes. The flat is just upsta--...the cakes!” He gasps and shoves past me, sprinting upstairs and disappearing behind a slammed door.
I turn to Mike, dangerously close to hysterical laughter. “S-so...that's my new flatmate?”
He shrugs apologetically, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Well, like you said, you won't be able to find anyone else willing to share. And yeah, he's always like that.” He gives a little wave and slips out of the door before I have the chance to reach out and throttle him.
“Sherlock Holmes...this could be the worst decision I've ever made in my life.” I grit my teeth and take the steps slowly, pausing for breath at every other one. I close my eyes and open the door slowly, opening them to slowly take in my new home.
This will definitely take some getting used to.