Chapter Text
John looked at the black ski mask in his hands as Sherlock loosely held his own, staring out at the cab window into the London night. Both were silent for the duration of the ride; any discussion would probably have put their cabbie off and ruined them for the night. Once they were a few blocks away from Irene Adler's flat, they payed their fee and exited the cab. Sherlock looked over at John, uncertainly, as they made their way to the back of the flat.
"You look nervous, what's wrong?" John asked. Sherlock looked down.
"Concerned that having you with me might compromise us," he muttered, pausing beside the wall of the flat next to Irene's.
"You'll just have to put up with that risk, then," John hissed at him. "We agreed; I'll be a look out."
Sherlock looked at him. "And you're sure you're ok with breaking the law?" John met his look with one of definite resolve.
"If it means helping that young man, I don't mind breaking the law at all," John said firmly. His mind went back to Sherlock's face when he had asked if Will Fischer was safe from his father and the cold hard feeling that had settled in John's stomach. Something in his face made Sherlock nod, looking more at ease.
They made it to the back of Adler's flat and Sherlock gently picked the lock on the back door, opening it without making any sounds. John followed him into the kitchen, soundlessly, and John was reminded of the burnt cake. Sherlock wordlessly gestured to the hallway, motioning for John to stay put beside the staircase. John gave a thumbs up and took up his post.
Sherlock crept into the room where they had first met Irene Adler, and made his way over to the chair she'd sat in, reaching for the cushion and scowling when he found nothing there. He looked up a fraction of a second too late and Irene Adler's foot collided with his face.
John hurried in silently when he heard the muffled sound from Sherlock, and found his friend, bleeding from the eyebrow, laying on his back on the floor, and fending off Irene's firsts. John grabbed her from behind, quickly dragging her away from Sherlock and she screeched, biting his fingers. John swore loudly, shaking his hand, as Nell rushed into the room, and saw Sherlock rising to his knees. The four of them locked gazes with one another, waiting for a movement.
"Well, Miss Adler, let me compliment you on that martial arts kick," Sherlock muttered lightly, pressing the heel of his hand to his eyebrow and wincing. "Let me guess, your girlfriend was hiding by the front door."
Nell's eyes narrowed and Irene looked from Sherlock to John. "After Fischer's previous attempts to trespass, there hasn't been a night we haven't been ready for another attempt to steal the photos."
"We didn't think there would be one from you, though," Nell said, her voice icy. "How did you know we're seeing each other?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Please." He turned to John. "Well, it seems we're stuck at the moment. What do you suggest, John?"
John turned to Irene. "If you're gay as well, you must realize what you're doing to Will."
Irene frowned. "I took the pictures of him and Godfrey. He's always been a little shy and Godfrey and I respected that. But he also said he wanted me to be safe from his father."
"It isn't hurting him," Nell said softly.
Sherlock gave a cold laugh, standing to his full height. "You mean you didn't know Will's father is horribly homophobic or that he might be in danger if those photos were proven real to his father before he's able to move out?"
Irene paled. "What? He never told me! I thought he was against his father for being so strict and thinking we would marry. I assumed he was just too nervous to come out..."
"And for good reason," John said darkly. Nell and Irene relaxed themselves, looking each other in the eye.
"We would've never wanted to hurt him," Nell said.
"You nearly might have," Sherlock muttered. "Let me pose this in a way that's actually helpful: what can we do to assure your safety, but also guarantee Will's?"
Irene hesitated. "I destroy the photos under the condition that you guarantee my safety." Nell looked like she was about to protest. "It's the only thing we can do at this point."
"We tell Will's father that you were gay, and that he rejected you as a friend once he found out," John said. "Fischer breaks contact with you, and we tell him we destroyed the photos. You and Will are free to keep in contact, just behind his father's back."
"And you should to explain yourselves," Sherlock said seriously.
Irene nodded. "If you're sure that will work, I'll destroy everything on the drive tomorrow morning." Sherlock smiled faintly and stuck out his hand.
"Pleasure meeting you, Miss Adler." She shook it, and then John's. Nell nodded to both of them.
"Not one for the blog, I would think, Mr Watson?" Nell said, smiling softly. John shook his head.
"No, this one stays out."
Sherlock received an email from Irene and Nell the next day, reporting the destruction of the drive. They both filed into a cab.
"So, Moriarty has police ties?" Sherlock asked, bringing up yet again their breakfast conversation. John nodded.
"Supposedly not Lestrade, though."
"It would..." Sherlock paused and then looked out the window. "It would hurt if it were Lestrade."
"Do you think we should talk to him about it? He probably knows and works with whoever it is." Sherlock nodded slowly.
"We'll probably have to. Or else next time it might catch him off guard if it's someone closer to him." They pulled up to where the Fischers were staying. "For another day, though."
John followed Sherlock into the Fischer's hotel room, and they both stood before Mr Fischer, Will Fischer sitting in the corner, nervously.
"I'm assuming good news?" Fischer asked, looking from Sherlock to John.
"We found the drive, late last night," John said.
"Had a scuffle with Miss Adler and her flatmate." Sherlock gestured to the healing cut through his eyebrow. "In the midst of it, as she tried to wrench the harddrive from my hands, it broke."
Fischer sat forward. "Really?"
Sherlock nodded. "Saved me some time, although I was hoping to test a new corrosive on it." He looked from Fischer to Will. "I would also advise you to stop asking her about marrying your son, Mr Fischer. Miss Adler's roommate turned out to be her girlfriend."
John watched as Fischer's face turned quickly to disgust. "Well, that definitely ends that problem, then. Will'll just have to find himself another nice young lady. Maybe while doing your studies in America, eh Will?"
Will smiled weakly.
Fischer rose and shook their hands. "And you're positive no more harm will come of this?"
"Absolutely none," Sherlock said firmly.
"I think if you keep away from her she'll definitely keep away from you," John said.
As they started down the hall to exit the hotel, Will Fischer caught up with them.
"Irene emailed me last night," he admitted, sticking his hands in his pockets. "She told me the full story. I should've been honest and trusted her, just told her how my dad was but..." he shook his head, smiling bitterly. "It's embarrassing to admit you're scared of what someone might do."
"You're sure you're safe?" Sherlock asked gently. Will nodded.
"Soon I'll be in America, with Godfrey." Will pulled something out of his pocket. "Here, this is for you, as my thanks. It doesn't mean a whole lot to you, probably, but..."
John looked at the photo Sherlock was holding and saw Will and a young man who could only be Godfrey on a balcony of a building, behind them the sun setting over what must be their campus. Will was smiling, bright and happy, and Godfrey had a long, lanky brown arm thrown over Will's shoulder.
"Handsome guy," John said, smiling at Will.
"This does mean a lot, thank you, Will." Sherlock held up the photo. "I hope you two end up very happy together, and I wish you both the best." He smiled. "If he gets into criminal law and ever needs someone like me, well, you know how to contact me."
Will grinned. "For sure. Thank you, Mr Holmes, Mr Watson."
John took off his coat, hanging it on a hook in the hall before following Sherlock into the front room and watching his friend carefully prop up the photo on the mantle.
"I hope they'll be happy together," John said softly. Sherlock turned to him.
"Yes."
John felt something was loaded in that statement, but the fact that Sherlock had been so silent since they left the hotel meant something was up, and something he wanted to close off from John.
"It's all fine, you know," he found himself saying, heading into the kitchen and putting the kettle on the stove. "Whatever it is."
"I know." Sherlock's soft voice preceded him into the kitchen. "Just not as fine as it should be, yet."
John turned to Sherlock, every thought in his mind telling him his friend must be gay. He wondered why it mattered so much to him, to know what his friend was, what sort of people Sherlock was attracted to. Maybe he just worried for Sherlock, and wanted him to have some kind of human connection.
Sherlock could've done science or philosophy, and wanted to be a pirate, but not to cause harm to others. No matter how cold Sherlock pretended to be, John knew his friend had a good heart, and one Sherlock was obviously dead-set on protecting.
Today wasn't the day John would be let in, or the day John would pry his friend to open up. He figured, as he passed Sherlock a mug of tea, that that would come naturally, like John's breakup with Sarah recently. He knew Sherlock had probably figured it out, but held back from asking, just as John was now.
"Sarah and I broke up last weekend," John said slowly, watching Sherlock. Sherlock blinked.
"Oh really?"
"Don't act surprised, you probably worked it out the same day."
"You weren't beat up about it." There was a curious tone in his voice.
John shook his head. "Just wasn't right. I think you need a certain person to be with you while you're a colleague and friend of a detective." John smiled slightly. "Dangerous work, odd hours, and all that."
"It's why I'm married to my work," Sherlock said calmly. John smiled.
"You make a good pair."
Sherlock looked at him. "And we make a good team."
John blinked. And then smiled. Bit by bit, he was understanding his friend more.