|John Watson internationally smuggles tea (imhisblogger) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2012-12-09 12:12:00
|Entry tags:||joan watson, john watson|
Who:John Watson and Joan Watson Open to Sherlock too!
What:Meeting, chatting about their Sherlocks. General Watson-y things.
When:Before Sherlock's dinner.
The last week had been hell, as far as John was concerned he was ready to shut off emotions. At least for a good while he'd had enough. Rose and Florence were invited, also Harry, Tony, and whoever the other facetwins were. John wasn't sure how many or who all they were but he would be in the company of people he knew and trusted for the most part. He could handle that crowd. At least that was what he told himself as he sank into a chair for a few moments as his leg started to bother him. Sherlock's flat was going to fill soon, which was odd in it's own right. Sherlock was inviting people over of free will and not for science. Still John was wary. Joan was helping Sherlock. A female version of him that he was oddly comfortable with. He didn't feel threatened or replaced as he thought he might. She was just there. Like another him around to help Sherlock if he needed it (and lets face it, Sherlock occasionally needed all the help he could get with normal humans).
John picked up his tea cup and sipped at it as he rested and waited for interesting smells. Worrisome smells was more like it. Smells of chemicals or sounds that never came, eventually causing John to fall into a sense of security. Even begin to relax a little. He knew that could possibly be a mistake, but at the same time the other Watson was in the kitchen with Sherlock. For some reason he trusted her to make sure Sherlock didn't do anything reckless and crazy. The tea in hand also soothed his nerves. It was just the way he liked it, Sherlock had been paying attention. There was no sugar, just a bit of milk and cinnamon for flavour.
He was originally a little wary of this party, of being around people again after being so angry at them all thanks to Jacen's harsh words. He'd begun to disconnect himself from people a little. He didn't cling to Rose hardly at all anymore, she had more then enough space to have her own life away from him. But that had been true even a while prior. They weren't attached to the hip at all times, flatmes sure but she was more then able to go out and do her own thing without him. Now he was trying to do so even more. He tried not to replace his Sherlock with this one, he knew it wasn't healthy. He could even separate the phrase my dear Watson. It didn't actually mean his in John's mind, it was a habit of Sherlock's and that was all. Who could really fault him for being a creature of habit, they all were. John was closing off a little, but he didn't want to lose his friends entirely. So he showed. He didn't want to insult them by not showing, it was just a confusing time to do so.
John looked around Sherlock's flat, it wasn't nearly as disorganized as his Sherlock's had been with case files everywhere. The only strange thing was the bloody goat that roamed free and the goat smell that followed it. Lestrade. Sherlock had named the goat Inspector Lestrade and the thought caused John to eyeroll a bit as he tried to regain his bearings.