Chapter Text
The first time one of Sherlock’s dreams manifest he is six, although he does not realize it at the time. He finds himself riding on the back of a very large, very, for no reason he could possibly fathom, familiar dragon. They fly over lush green fields, much like the landscape in New Zealand Sherlock’s mind tells him, and a rather far above the ground. Sherlock holds on to the dragon’s neck with all the strength he can muster and wonders why he’s not being eaten. Most lore points to dragons having an appetite for human flesh among other things making his continued presence outside the dragon’s stomach somewhat baffling. Just as the dragon is coming up to what looks like an old timey village on a solitary mountain Sherlock wakes up in his bed. He decides to write it off as a pointless dream and starts his morning routine.
The first time Sherlock realizes his dreams manifest he is twelve. He appears in the room of a very bewildered Mycroft. Sherlock is currently mid epic swordfight as a pirate against a ship Captain in the British Royal Navy. Mycroft stares until Pirate Sherlock and his foe fade away. The next morning is very interesting.
“Sherlock, what is your… opinion about pirates?”
Mycroft’s sudden question startles Sherlock enough that he forgets to carefully formulate his response and instead answers quite bluntly.
“I like pirates. I find them interesting.”
Mycroft raises an eyebrow. “Interesting enough to fantasize being one?”
Sherlock’s eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. “What?”
Mycroft looks smug. Very very smug. “As childish as your fantasy was last night I am quite interested in exactly how you managed to project it into my room last night. My understanding is that such a talent is rather unique.”
Sherlock remembers his dream from last night and blushes in mortification. He glares at his brother.
“Shut up, Mycroft.” This only makes Mycroft smile in a very self-satisfied manner, which in turn only makes Sherlock glare harder. This vicious cycle continues until Mummy reminds them that, yes, they still need to get ready for school that day. Thus a sibling rivalry for the ages is born.
Sherlock remembers his past lives after a near death experience at sixteen. Apparently, practicing making deductions (yes practicing, no matter how brilliant Sherlock may be he wasn’t born able to deduce an airline pilot by his left thumb) on members of his school’s rugby team is a very bad idea and can lead to life threatening injuries being inflicted by said rugby team. During his near death experience Sherlock gains the memories of both his past lives. He has no idea how or why he is the reincarnation of both Smaug (who he now knows is the dragon from his dream when he was six due to Smaug’s memories of the event) and Sauron and wouldn’t rightly care except for the small, or not so small, mystery of his soul somehow being two souls merged together. Despite everything he later learns about reincarnation he never ends up finding an acceptable answer for that one beyond the possibility that a wizard did it, most likely Gandalf if he’s being completely honest with himself.
This is, of course, the correct explanation. Gandalf truly loves to meddle, especially in the interest of the greater good, and trying to redeem two dark souls at once is too fun an opportunity for the old codger to pass up. It’s only Sherlock’s stubbornness preventing him from accepting the truth as, well, the truth.
The first familiar reincarnated soul he comes across is, to his annoyance, Gandalf. He never quite figures out if Greg Lestrade remembers being the meddlesome old wizard, as the only evidence is that very knowing look Lestrade occasionally gets that is more Gandalf than Lestrade, and finds he doesn’t rightly care if he does. The knowledge will not change the fact that the wizard is still a manipulative old bastard that refuses to give Sherlock cases if he isn’t clean.
The second time he meets a reincarnated soul is the day he meets John Watson. He later cannot believe his good fortune of meeting and becoming close to such a singular soul.
(He never finds out that Greg contrived this meeting. That is something only John ever ends up learning over a few beers at the pub along with the fact that Greg isn’t the reincarnation of Gandalf. Greg is Gandalf; the ever meddlesome wizard never actually died. John and Greg’s visits to the pub become quite a bit more interesting after that.)
“A bit different from my day.”
Sherlock looks discretely up briefly to glance at the source of the familiar voice of Bilbo Baggins. He sees a man who looks exactly like the brave hobbit of Bag End. His mind immediately begins deducing the man.
Military stance, bearing and haircut. Tanned but Not Tanned Above the Wrists. Soldier Recently Returned, Invalided due to Injury, from Middle East, either Afghanistan or Iraq. With Mike so Looking for a Flat Share. Clothes and Looking for a Flat Share indicates Not Wealthy. Likely Living off Army Pension. Opening Comment plus the Callouses on his Hands means Doctor, obviously some kind of Surgeon most likely a Trauma Surgeon though not guaranteed. Callouses indicate Left Hand Dominate but Shoots Right Handed. Walks with a Limp in his Right Leg. Muscle Twitches indicate Limp is due to Pain. No Pain present while Standing. No. He Forgets to feel Pain while Standing. Limp is Psychosomatic. Holds Cane in Right Hand and Wears Watch on Left Wrist. Two Possibilities for Cane being held on Side of Limp: A) Injury to Left Arm or Shoulder causes Pain While Holding Cane on Left Side OR B) Doctors More Likely to Use Cane on Wrong Side. Not enough Data. Two Possibilities for Watch on Left Wrist: A) Habit OR B) Switched due to Using Cane on Right Side. No Tan Line from Watch on Right Wrist makes (A) more likely but not enough to state with confidence. Slight Tremor in Left Hand. Psychosomatic Limp plus Slight Tremor in Left Hand means Has a Therapist. Likely Diagnosed with PTSD (which is ridiculous if he is anything like Bilbo Baggins). Therapist is an Idiot (Forgone Conclusion, Most Humans are Idiots).
He returns to looking through his microscope. He is very satisfied with the perspective flatmate Mike chose. An army doctor with Bilbo’s personality will be very useful to him and his work. He hopes somewhat that the man doesn’t remember. He wants to avoid unnecessary resentment.
Sherlock asks, “Mike can I borrow your phone? There’s no signal on mine.”
Mike replies, “What’s wrong with a landline?”
Sherlock says, “I prefer to text.”
Mike responds by saying that he left his phone in his coat.
“Uh, here…” Sherlock looks up to see the man taking his phone out of his jacket pocket.
“…use mine.” He holds the phone out to Sherlock. Their eyes meet as Sherlock moves to take the phone.
Slight Widening of Eyes. Could be Recognition. Could be Something Else. Slight Pupil Dilation. Breath Catches Slightly. Breathing Slightly more Shallow. Most Likely Possibilities: A) Fear and/or Surprise at Recognition OR B) Attraction and Sexual Arousal.
His eyes flick briefly to the man’s cheeks.
Slightly Flushed. No Anger Visible. Either Embarrassed and/or Slightly Aroused. (B) More Likely.
Sherlock smiles slightly. “Oh, thank you.” As Sherlock reaches for the phone Mike introduces the man as his old friend John Watson. Friend from Uni. Sherlock decides to impress John. If the man is anything like Bilbo it should go over well. He hopes. He takes the phone.
Recent Model: About Six Months. Rather Banged Up. Scratches on Charger Port. Engraving: To Harry Love Clara XXXX. Expensive Enough of a Model to be a Luxury. Man Like John (Like Bilbo) would not treat such an Expensive Gift (Item from Family) so Harshly. No Evidence of Alcoholism in John. Gift from Family Member, Likely getting a Divorce, Definitely leaving a Long Standing Romantic Attachment, with a Drinking Problem. Most Likely from a Brother. Young Man Gadget. Looking for Flatshare Precludes Extended Family. Harry Left Clara. If Clara Left, Harry would Keep the Phone due to Sentiment. Six Months Old and just Giving It Away: He Left Her.
Sherlock smirks slightly as he texts his client.
“Afghanistan or Iraq?” A brief glance at Mike shows that he has a pleased smile. Sherlock takes that as encouragement.
John looks confused. “Sorry?”
Sherlock asks again, “Which was it Afghanistan or Iraq?” John looks both confused and intrigued. As he glances at mike his eyebrows twitches slightly.
John looks down and then at Sherlock as he replies. “Afghanistan, sorry, how did you…?”
The door opens and Sherlock looks up as Molly walks in. “Ah, Molly. Coffee. Thank you.” He hands John his phone back as he talks to Molly. He looks back to John to now see a slight disapproval there. John has a quite remarkably expressive face and does nothing to mask his emotions. Sherlock is finding himself entertained by John’s expressions and enjoying the man’s responses. He finds himself wanting to impress John and for John to genuinely like him.
Sherlock asks, “How do you feel about the violin?”
John replies, “I’m sorry, what?”
Sherlock looks at John and clarifies, “I play the violin when I’m thinking. Sometimes I don’t talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.” Sherlock twists his lips in a false smile for pleasantries sake. John seems to have settled on simply being bewildered at this point. John’s eyes dart from Sherlock to Mike a few times.
John turns his head to look at Mike. “You told him about me.”
“Not a word.” Mike’s practically radiating amusement at this point. If Sherlock was not absolutely certain Lestrade is Gandalf, he would be suspecting Mike of being the damnable wizard. As it is, Sherlock is quite certain Mike is just Mike.
John turns back to Sherlock and asks, “Then who said anything about flatmates?”
Sherlock puts his coat on while he explains, “I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn’t a leap.”
John looks down slightly. “How did you know about Afghanistan?” He looks back at Sherlock, challenging him.
“Got my eye on a nice little place in Central London. Together we ought to be able to afford it.” Sherlock continues as he gets ready to leave. He wraps his blue scarf around his neck, grabs his phone and stops in front of John on his way towards the door. It seems even here he towers over John.
“We’ll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o’clock.” Sherlock tilts his head briefly and starts moving towards the exit once more. “Sorry, got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary.” He enjoys the confused bewilderment this statement elicits from John. John blinks three times then quickly recovers and turns to keep Sherlock within sight.
John asks, “Is that it?”
Sherlock, looking very impressive and very dramatic in his full ensemble, turns towards John. “Is that what?” Sherlock puts his hands in his coat pockets as has he moves to stand in front of John. He stops as they’re standing face to face.
John asks, “We’ve only just met and we’re going to go look at a flat?”
Sherlock locks eyes with John. “Problem?” He ends his question with a slight smile. John doesn’t back down. Instead, he glances at Mike and emits a rough short laugh with barest twitch of the sides of his mouth before turning back to stare down Sherlock, something he most absolutely pulls off despite his height.
John says, “We don’t know a thing about each other. I don’t know where we’re meeting. I don’t even know your name.”
Strength. Interest. Inquisitiveness. Amusement. Challenge. Sherlock reads all of these John’s expression, from look in John’s eye and the subtle twisting of John’s smile. Sherlock locks his gaze with John’s, accepting the challenge presented by this man who went to war, by the hobbit that bested a dragon.
“I know you’re an army doctor and you’ve been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you have a brother…” John’s eyebrows twitch into a brief small furrow at the word brother. “…who’s worried about you, but you won’t go to him for help because you don’t approve of him, possibly because he’s an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife.” Sherlock can tell he’s hit home as John’s eyes widen slightly smoothing his whole face into a look of dawning comprehension. “…And I know that your therapist thinks your limp…” Sherlock looks down at John’s leg. “…is psychosomatic…” John looks down at his own leg. “…quite correctly I’m afraid.” Sherlock’s eyes flick back up to John’s face. As Sherlock presents his deductions a small, invisible but for slight changes in the eyes, look of awe replaces the challenge previously present in John’s expression.
Sherlock moves away while keeping his eyes on John. “That’s enough to be going on with, don’t you think?” John stands there looking straight ahead, seeming to still be processing it all. Sherlock exits the room before returning, hanging just so in the door way so that the door blocks most of his figure.
John looks towards Sherlock at the sound of the detective’s voice. “The name’s Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street.” Sherlock winks at John as he bids John and Mike afternoon and does not fail to notice how this triggers the return of a slight flush in John’s cheeks.
Definitely (B) Attraction and Sexual Arousal.