lxvenderjewel - Tumblr blog

lxvenderjewel · 2 hours

Text

Late Arrival

by audraeciouslyme and @lucy-g-turpin Read the fic and view the art on AO3!

“John, we already know what it is going to say. It is on the board right in front of us.” Mariana sighed, shifting her bag from one shoulder to the other.

“Yes, but what if the message is different? What if they have more up-to-date information?”

“More up-to-date information than the people inputting the information?” Sherlock looked around Heathrow, grateful for the sound-distorting ear defenders.

He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. He picked up the phone and read the text. “Nope. Yep. Exactly the same. Ground stop on all flights.”

“Of course it is.” Sherlock and Mariana replied in unison.

“Why don’t we just find a place to sit and wait out the storm? It’s England. They should be used to rain by now.” Mariana walked a bit further down the terminal, finding an empty space on the wall to lean against before sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. She pulled her phone from her pocket to inform her family that they would be late.

When she had told her mother that she would actually be coming for her abuela’s birthday, her mother had practically begged her to bring Sherlock and John. The trio had become minor celebrities in the Ametxazurra household, especially with her grandmother, who had apparently developed a fondness for John Watson. Something she had yet to share with the man, lest he become even more of an awkward human being.

“Did you let the family know?” John asked, plopping himself next to Mariana, handing over a cup of coffee. Sherlock sat next to John with a bit more grace, folding his legs under him.

“Mm, yes, and they agree that it rains far too much in England.” She nodded with a small smile. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Figured we would be here long enough.” John shrugged. “So, tell us more about this party.” He suggested, sipping his own drink, wincing when the too hot liquid hit his tongue.

“My Abuela is turning 90, and the entire family is coming in to celebrate, so…it is a good thing Sherlock brought his ear defenders. They are….loud, to say the least.” While she had just been home for the Christmas holiday, this would be the first time her *entire* family would be together in years, making it all the more special.

……

The weather delay cost them the entire morning, and when they arrived in Astigarraga, the sun was already hanging high in the sky, but at least it was sunny. Incredibly sunny.

“Pequeña!” Mariana’s head swivelled quickly towards the endearment and a voice she hadn’t heard in nearly five years.

“Alejandro!” She dropped her bag to the ground, leaving it with John and Sherlock, and ran full force towards her cousin, crashing into his arms for a nearly bone-crushing hug.

“That is her older cousin, Alejandro and his sister Sofía.” Sherlock leaned down to whisper in John’s ear, answer his unasked question.

“How…How do you know that?” John turned towards Sherlock’s voice, flinching back a hair when he realised how close he actually was.

“Mrs Hudson made me a document with all her family members. Come along, Watson.” Sherlock picked up Mariana’s bag, heading towards their hosts for the weekend.

“What? How can I get one of those? Sherlo-!” John rushed after his friend, as the realisation that he was out of his depth hit him like a ton of bricks.

……

John had never heard conversations flow so fast. Mariana hadn’t been lying when she had said that her family was large and loud. They had all gathered at her parents' home, laughter and joy filling the space, and people spilled out into the back garden to play games with children of all ages or talk while food was being cooked.

Abuela’s official birthday celebration wasn’t until the following evening, but the family was still together all the same. The entire family gathered around a long table that had been set up in the back garden, lights strung from branch to branch among the trees, illuminating the dinner guests as the sun set beyond the horizon.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t pack your sun cream, John. Honestly.” Mariana scooped a generous portion of Bacalao al pilpil. “And don’t give me that face. Even Sherlock is eating it.”

“Yeah, but he also has his pasta.” John struggled with the scent of the dish before him, pungent garlic and cod overwhelming his senses, hoping it tasted better than it smelled.

“Well, he is my mother’s favourite of the podcast. Especially now that she knows he speaks Basque. Why does he speak Basque?”

“Why does he do anything?” John focused on his plate, pushing the pieces of fish around in their sauce.

“True.” Mariana shrugged. Diving into her own plate of food.

Feeling a presence close to him, John turned to find Abuela sitting next to him when she hadn’t been moments before.

“Christ, you’re quiet.” John smiled at the old woman, offering his most charming grin.

“Amona, ez bota Johnen gainera. Airean ibili zen behin. (Abuela, don’t sneak up on John. He’s been blown up before.)” Mariana laughed, lightly scolding her.

“Pertsonalki askoz erakargarriagoa da. Bidaltzen dizkiguzun argazki horietan guztietan baino askoz gehiago. (He is more attractive in person. Much better than the pictures you have sent us.)” Abuela smiled back at John, “Baina gehiago jan behar du. (He needs to eat, though.)” She pushed his plate closer to him.

“Ah, okay. Right. Ta, Abuela.” John stabbed the meat with his fork, exhaling a big breath before shoving it in his mouth. “Delicious,” he said around the bite as he chewed. And, to his surprise, he was being honest. It wasn’t that he wasn’t food adventurous, but some flavours didn’t agree with his stomach, so he was always nervous about trying dishes that he didn’t recognize. Onions were his nemesis.

“See, it's good, no?” Mariana smiled at him.

“Your grandmother knows I can’t understand a word she is saying, yeah?” John leaned over to Mariana, nodding politely as Abuela kept talking to him—or rather, at him.

“She is telling you how attractive she finds you, John.” Sherlock’s voice carried beyond the din of conversation from where he sat on the other side of Mariana’s grandmother. “And that she would like you to do more question-and-answer episodes so that she can learn more about you. However, I already know enough about you. Do not feel obligated to include me in those.”

John pursed his lips together, staring even harder at his plate of food. “I….What?…Right. Smile and nod.”

Sherlock and Mariana laughed in unison at John’s misfortune.

“She also wants to know when she will receive her personalised message for being a Diogenes subscriber from the Patreon,” Sherlock added.

John could feel his face burning from both his sunburn and his embarrassment. He cleared his throat and turned to look at Abuela. He offered her another nervous grin: “Well, I was going to save this for tomorrow, but it seems as good a time as any.” John took a deep breath and hesitantly began stumbling out the words to the Happy Birthday song in Spanish.

Abuela smiled brightly, clapping her hands together before leaning over to give John a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Izugarria izan da, baina eskerrik asko. (That was awful, but thank you.)” She said with a laugh.

9 notes · View notes

lxvenderjewel · 9 hours

Text

Party Tricks and Their Consequences

by C.S. Graye and Sockface! Read the fic and view the animation on AO3!

Sherlock was not sure why he was listening to John’s podcast. He originally had decided to not listen to any of the episodes because he heard almost everything multiple times as John edited them constantly, and it was incredibly annoying. But this time he was curious, because John had been much more secretive when editing the case about Silver Blaze.

The detective skipped through the very beginning which had the ad John convinced him to participate in, so he knew it would not contain anything important. The media montage he could have done without, as it was so chaotic and again, not helpful. He remembers the conversation he and John had about his lack of interest in the case. It had been very noisy, which the doctor had managed to capture somewhat with the media at the beginning. Sherlock’s estimation of John’s editing skills went up slightly as he considered this.

“...I’m not trying to force him…”

Sherlock’s attention snapped back to the podcast episode, eyes narrowing. Finally, the detective was getting to something he did not remember. He blinked. Sherlock hadn’t realized that John talked to his mother about him, though he supposed that they did live and work together. Wait, Mariana was saying that she had talked to the police before Sherlock had ever accepted the case. That’s odd. Why would John and Mariana be discussing the case if they knew he wasn’t interested, nevermind that the groundwork ended up being helpful in the long run.

“...And what are you going to approach Sherlock with?”

He paused. Had he heard that correctly? Sherlock went back a few seconds and relisted. He had. At least it sounded like Mariana understood part of the reason he was uninterested in taking the case. Both her and the doctor were also right about the case just not calling to him.

“What if we could push him towards it?”

What?! Wait, the party had been made up? John and Mariana had tricked him into investigating Silver Blaze by taking advantage of his discomfort? Why would they do that? He stopped listening to the episode, picking at his nails, trying to avoid getting truly angry. He did not really understand why he was getting as mad as he was, but suspected it had something to do with the level of frustration he had been dealing with recently. The detective didn’t notice when John opened the door to the flat and walked in.

“Hey, you never listen to my podcast, you always say you were there and don’t need to remember anything. But I finally convinced you to, eh?” John said as he pulled off his coat. Something was wrong. The doctor turned around, not too sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t Sherlock rocking back and forth, picking his nails. His expression looked almost pained or anxious, if John was reading him correctly.

“Sherlock, what happened? Are you okay?” As the podcast continued, John figured out that Sherlock was listening to the edited adventure regarding Silver Blaze. Sherlock didn’t respond right away and John glanced around the room, but everything seemed undisturbed, except for the detective, clearly distressed. John’s eyes widened just as Sherlock found enough strength to mutter a single line.

“You tricked me.”

John gulped, wiping his suddenly sweaty palms on his trousers. He took a breath before steeling himself.

“Would you have taken the case without it? An innocent man might have gone down for a crime he didn’t commit.” John tried to keep his voice level, but the doctor could feel some frustration building. He and Mariana did their best to find cases that Sherlock found interesting, while keeping in mind what he found difficult to deal with, if the clients actually needed a consulting detective, and if they would make any money.

“That doesn’t matter. You tricked me into taking the case, regardless of my reasons for not doing so.” Sherlock stopped rocking back and forth, tearing his nails to shreds, and raising his head to look at John.

“Yes, it does matter. You were bored and playing with ants. If I didn’t want them crawling all over the flat or for you to find an even weirder hobby, I needed to find you something that you were interested in.”

“I was not playing with them; it was an experiment.”

“Even if it was an experiment, you were ready to get rid of them before we even took the case! And the case was perfect for you. The intrigue, the fact that the police already had a suspect, but nothing but circumstantial evidence, and no horse!”

“You still shouldn’t have tricked me!” Sherlock’s voice broke a bit as he shouted. “Did you ever think that I didn’t want to take the case because it was overwhelming? Because I was having a hard time separating my thoughts from the noise of the world around me?”

John blinked. Sherlock was not someone who shouted often. He had stood up during the argument and had his hands fisted at his sides. The doctor took a step back.

“I…” John shook his head and tried again. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry. You’re my friend. You aren’t supposed to trick me. Friends aren’t supposed to trick you.” Sherlock was now staring at the floor, shaking slightly.

“Maybe it would be better if I give you some time. I am sorry, Sherlock. “ John crossed the flat into his room. “I’ll give you some space and come out in a couple of hours, alright?” The detective didn’t respond, but John knew he’d heard him.

---

John closed the door to his bedroom, kicked off his shoes and flopped onto his bed. What was he supposed to do now? Sherlock was clearly upset with him and while he wasn’t completely sure if it made more sense to leave the flat entirely he had just gotten home. Sighing, John thought over what he had said to Sherlock. He still stood by the fact that Sherlock had been bored and the case had been good for him. He did regret a bit having to trick him into it, especially now that Sherlock had indicated that he was upset with the fact that they had tricked him.

John reached for his laptop that was sitting on the side table. Maybe he could get some work done, either looking at cases or by editing the next podcast episode. Probably not the second, since he knew it would annoy Sherlock and he was doing his best to give him some space. Looking through cases, it was then. Mariana had already sorted through a number of emails, which meant that John could look through the ones she approved from to see if there were any Sherlock would enjoy investigating. He had just gotten through the first couple making notes as he went when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his back pocket and saw a message from Sherlock.

Well, whatever it was it could wait. The doctor placed the phone on his side table. Even though he had gone into his room mostly to give Sherlock space, John felt that he also needed some. He continued going through the emails, discarding a few outright as good podcast potentials, though still keeping thorough notes. Honestly, the detective sometimes made little sense when he chose a case, and John wanted to make sure that he gave Sherlock all the options. He huffed out a breath and finished going through the cases. Afterwards, John stretched his arms upward, feeling a pop in his back. Well, that shows that people shouldn’t sit hunched over their computers for very long. John shoved the laptop onto the table that held his phone and layed down on his bed.

Why had Sherlock even listened to the episode? The detective was never interested when John edited the episodes. Why had John felt it necessary to conceal the fact that he and Mariana had tricked Sherlock into taking the case? Nevermind, what was done was done and even though John did not feel particularly good about tricking Sherlock he couldn’t un-trick the detective. Furthermore, he still believed that it had been for the best to convince Sherlock to take the case. The doctor considered that he was just working himself into knots and figured that with Sherlock being who he was, John may as well try to grab a quick nap. Unfortunately, just as he shut his eyes his phone buzzed again. He groaned, turning onto his other side. His phone buzzed for a third time before falling silent. John debated with himself for a couple of seconds before getting out of bed and picking up his phone.

Curiosity beat out the need to give the detective space and John opened the messages.

Why would you trick me? I’m your friend, right?

I listened to the rest of the episode.

I want to talk.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. Whenever people said that it was never good. John couldn’t believe he had ignored the first text. He gaped at his phone. Did Sherlock truly not know if they were friends? John scrambled to open his door. He would face the situation head on, since he, arguably, was the one that caused it in the first place.

---

Sherlock looked up as he heard the doorknob turn. While John hadn’t stayed in his room as long as he had initially said, he clearly had gotten Sherlock’s messages. Sherlock was still upset but had stopped picking his nails in order to tap his fingers against the desk as though playing the violin. John opened the door, nearly tripping over his own feet. Sherlock hadn’t moved from his previous seat. Noticing this, John sat down across from Sherlock and when no words were forthcoming, started.

“I am sorry Sherlock. I do think that I, and to some extent Mariana, were correct about you needing a case. I also know that the satisfying end of the case would not have come if we hadn’t tricked you into taking it when we did. However, it was wrong to trick you.”

John had not looked away from Sherlock as he said this, searching his face for any indication that Sherlock was not just hearing the words but that he understood what was being said. John sat back in the chair, giving Sherlock space to talk.

“I…” Sherlock began, “...do not have many friends. I have even less that are true friends. I had thought that you, at least, were a true friend. With this understanding, I didn’t know why you would feel it necessary to trick me. I still do not understand why after I made it clear that I wasn’t interested, you made me take the case anyway.”

“I felt, and I think that Mariana agreed to an extent, that you needed something to occupy you. I know that you were happy to do experiments and focus on the things you found interesting, but this case was important. You are the person that solves these cases, but I just wanted some sort of compromise. Mariana goes though so many emails to find cases that are interesting enough for you to actually want to investigate. We had so many people asking about Silver Blaze and though I knew it was going to be tough with the amount of media coverage, it was good for the company and the podcast.”

“Ah yes, the podcast, which I was also thrust into unprepared.”

“Hey, I did get your permission.”

“Yes, but I was and still am unhappy about being heard by so many people. It is bound to influence my work, and indeed already has. There was the case with the couple found in the water tank, and even this last one, where we found the horse. How am I supposed to remain objective and unknown enough to be able to properly solve cases? What will happen if we have more fans like that reporter?”

John was taken aback. He hadn’t realized quite how strongly Sherlock felt about the podcast. Sherlock seemed to realize what he had said, eyes widening slightly. “Well, if you feel so strongly about it, um,” John wasn’t really sure how to word this. The only thing he contributed to the company was the bloody podcast.

Sherlock sighed. “No, you do not have to stop recording. While I often find it annoying, I know that you also leave many of the more sensitive or mundane cases out of the line up, so clients are still able to remain private if they so wish.”

“I know it’s not your first choice, mate.” John conceded, “And I am sorry about tricking you into the case. I can’t promise you that I’ll never trick you again, but I can promise you that I will do my best to talk to you about the things first and really try to understand where you are coming from.”

Sherlock contemplated this statement for a moment. “I accept your apology.”

“Thank you.” John’s face cleared, only relief remaining. Sherlock was still upset, but he knew why John had felt the need to trick him into the case. While it might take some time for Sherlock to fully trust what he said, he knew that eventually he would trust John again.

#SANDCO FANFIC SANDCO FANFIC

16 notes · View notes