A/N:

The date is September 20th 9:04 p.m. and I have just edited this to make it into second person…..hope y'all don't mind :D

This was not where he had imagined himself. He was not supposed to be in the middle of a pointless war, in a foreign land with heat beating on the back of his neck and a strict uniform clinging to his body. The buttons were restraining, and he forced himself not to tug at them, not wanting to appear affected in any way. Training had been tedious at best, mindless manual work that left boredom creeping at the edges of his mind. The trip from the motherland to Afghanistan had been mind-numbingly dull, the majority of his time spent staring at walls and ignoring those men that had tried to make conversation. He could read their stories on them, from the way they walked to the way they dressed, and none of them were interesting enough to catch his attention. He should have been in the heart of London, his city. He should have been working in his own business, solving those interesting little problems the police were too ignorant to handle. Unfortunately, no matter how much he loved his city, it required money to live in it. Money which he no longer had, and his brother was no longer willing to supply for him. So here he was. In Afghanistan, fighting a fight that was not his own. "Here we are, men! Go find your tents!" Holmes stopped as the others continued, taking in the camp. Meager canvas coverings, men laying about, simply allowing their brains to rot. There were trenches all around, hardly suitable covering for the types of weapons he knew would be aimed at him and the others. Already his powerful imagination supplied him with an image of himself crouching down, bullets flying over his head, warm blood streaked across his face. Setting his jaw, Holmes shifted his bag - sparse, impersonal belongings - on his shoulder and ventured further into the little longer under the watchful eye of his officer, Holmes began to loosen his uniform, undoing the top buttons of his coat and running his hand through his black locks, causing them to stick in odd directions. He did not seem nervous or excited like the others. He was blank, dark eyes betraying no emotions. This was simple necessity. He would serve his time for Queen and country, and he would go home. If he made it that far.

John sighed, looking out to the new soldiers. Thinking to his self, "Most of these men, won't even last a month. He looked out to his left and saw a solider starting to loosen his uniform, John started to head over there, "You there! What's you name solider?" he asked once he reached the man.

Not even five minutes into the camp and an officer was already calling him out. Holmes bit back a sigh, turning around to face the speaker. His dark eyes flickered up and down, looking over him. He was a doctor, that much was easy enough to deduce, which immediately put him several ranks above Holmes."Holmes, sir," he answered, a dry note crawling up under his tone. "Sherlock Holmes."

John bit back a smile at the blank look at Mr. Holmes' face, "Well Mr. Holmes, if you did not know we do not start taking off our uniforms just yet." he looked the man up and down, taking in his slightly ruffled appearance, John finally ended on his dark eyes, getting memorized in them. He shook his head, snapping out of his slight stare, "I would hurry and get your things in your tent, you never know when a battle will start. We always want to be ready."

Holmes did not miss the way the doctor studied him, only holding steady under his gaze. Perhaps he was not here to defend Queen and country like so many of these other men - like this man before Holmes - but showing weakness was not an option. Higher rank or not, he would not be intimidated. Still, there was something different about this one. Something Holmes wasn't sure he was prepared for. A once-over of his uniform and equipment, and Holmes was able to spot his name. It seemed the perfect opportunity to startle him and catch him off guard, as he hadn't told Holmes it himself. "Well Dr. Watson," said Holmes with a patronizing smile, "I am quite certain of our safety for the time being."

John was slightly caught off guard by how Mr. Holmes knew his name, "How did you know my name? I don't remember telling it to you." Not at all missing his patronizing smile.

Satisfaction bubbled up inside of Holmes, pleased to have surprised him. "It was not terribly difficult, Doctor. It is required that all soldiers have their name located on their uniform. I merely observed." Watson was, at the very least, entertaining to surprise. Still, trifling deductions would not occupy Holmes long. He hoped he would find something more challenging, or he fears he might go insane with boredom.

John blushed, angry at his self for forgetting about his "name tag". John decided that he was not going to let this soldier think he was an idiot, he was a doctor for gods sake, John steeled his self just enough to get the blush off of his face. "Of course Mr. Holmes, I had momentarily forgotten. Wearing this uniform as long as I have it has become a part of me. But that was very good on observing that." John gave Holmes his special smirk letting him know that John was smart, and that's why he was where he was in the military.

Seeing the blush on Watson's face, Holmes silently prepared his self for whatever punishment the man intended. Officers were not fond of being embarrassed and shown up by those of lower rank. Yet, much to his surprise, Watson did not order him to run or do push-ups. Watson complimented him, and he smirked. This time, Holmes was the one caught off guard, unsure of what to make of the reaction. This man was definitely different from the others, and strangely enough... Holmes was intrigued. "You are the first officer to believe so."

John smiled, "I'm not like most officers Mr. Holmes." He looked to the sun, slowly making its way down, out of the sky, breathing in the last of the summer air when John heard the unmistaken sound of cannon fire. "Get down," was all he yelled as he jumped on Mr. Holmes, knocking him to the ground, just in time to get them both on the ground when a explosion hit just ten feet behind them, showering them with dirt and other debris. You could hear the screams of wounded men as John got back up to start shouting out orders.

The sound reached Holmes, but he was not entirely aware of what it was until he was already on the ground with the doctor over him. Gunfire Holmes knew like the sound of his own voice, but this was new to him, startling him. Yet Watson was already up again and ready, barking orders to the scrambling men. Holmes remained on the ground for only a moment longer, noting everything in his mind so that he would not be caught off guard again. The smell of gunpowder, the distant click of our enemy's weapons, and the sound of their feet hitting the dirt. Adrenaline rushed through Holmes, waking him from the constant state of boredom he had been in since he first joined the military. Rolling out of the way of a gun shot, Holmes shot to his feet, looking left and right. He heard Watson's orders, but there was a reason Holmes was still a Private when many of the men he'd trained with had advanced to Corporals. He was bad at following orders. Instead of taking cover as we'd always been trained to do, Holmes snatched a rope from one of the near-by tents, a plan already turning in his head.

John looked around as all he could hear was the sound of gunfire and the screams of wounded and dying men, as he finished shouting out his orders. John's eyes stopped on Holmes' grabbing a rope from one of the tents by him. "What in the bloody hell do you think your doing solider! We're under attack!" John yelled over all of the sounds happening around us.

Holmes heard Watson shouting behind him, and a wry smile touched his lips. "Yes, Doctor, that much is obvious," Holmes responded over the chaos around them, well aware of his habit for levity at the most inappropriate of moments. Holmes took a grenade from his belt, pressing his back to a tree for sparse cover. Holmes secured the rope around the explosive, using his teeth to ensure it was tight. The enemy soldiers were too far to throw the grenade, but he knew with the proper amount of momentum, it could reach them. Stepping back out into the open, Holmes pulled the pin, swinging the grenade around by the rope. When he released it, the little object launched through the air, straight at the soldier controlling the cannon.

John just stared Holmes in complete shock, until he heard a crunch of a twig behind them, pulling out his gun he turned to see an enemy solider behind them. Putting his gun up John shot the man in the head killing him instantly. John shook his head at Holmes and said as a bit of a joke, "And you thought we were going to be fine for the time being." Then John pointed to Holmes' empty hands, "You are going to have to teach it to me one day."

Holmes looked over his shoulder, again surprised, but simultaneously pleased when he saw that Watson had saved him yet again. The man was proving to be far more adept than those Holmes had trained with, as well as the officers that had been in charge of the training. "It would be my pleasure, Doctor." He answered just as the explosion of the grenade sounded, a burst of fire jumped up. A bullet whirred by his head and he dropped down, taking Watson's sleeve to pull him with Holmes. "There are several men sneaking toward the back tents. Would you be willing to sacrifice a shelter or two to be rid of them?"

John was surprised at Holmes' quick acting on pulling him out of the way, but very pleased at the same time. For his suggestion though John just looked at him smirking, "As long as those bastards die I'll do just about anything. Tell me what I need to do," John finished preparing his self for just about anything that Holmes needed him to do.

'What do you need me to do?' No words had ever thrilled Holmes so much. He will be the first to admit his eccentricities, but it often leads others to pay no mind to his words, as he had not yet established his self in the world. No one yet recognized the strength behind his mind, save this man, and an officer no less! John Watson. Holmes would not soon forget the name. Holmes peered around, thoughts whirring, cogs turning. "Grab a pair of the gas lamps and follow me."

John hurried up and went to find a pair of gas lamps, finding them in what was a tent before the first explosion. John grabbed them and went back out to Holmes, with a lamp in each hand. When he reached Holmes John held out one of the lamps to Holmes, seeing if he wanted to take it all while saying, "I got them, now lead the way."

Holmes took the lamp, smiling to his self. "This way, Watson." Holmes hurried toward the back tents, keeping his head low to avoid bullets. He stopped a few tents away from the invaded ones, clenching his teeth around the handle of the lamp so that he could begin shucking off his uniform coat. Holmes smashed the lamp open and began pouring the gas over his bunched up coat, leaving only one sleeve dry. "Use that lamp to light the dry sleeve," he ordered, forgetting our ranks for the moment in favor of taking down these enemies.

As Holmes took the lamp John offered to him and led the way to a few tents away from the invaded ones John couldn't help but be glad with the way Holmes was taking charge. 'This is the type of man we need in the military,' John thought to his self as he followed Holmes' instructions and light the dry coat sleeve on fire.

As the sleeve was lit, the fire began to travel quickly up it, headed straight for the cloth drenched in gasoline. Holmes placed the material by the invaded tents swiftly and quietly before hurrying back. "We have approximately twelve seconds before the flame hits the gasoline, Doctor, we had best move quickly." Not wanting him to get caught in the explosion, Holmes took his hand, pulling John with him as Holmes ran for a trench to take cover with the others.

"We have approximately twelve seconds before the flame hits the gasoline, Doctor, we had best move quickly," said Holmes before grabbing John's hand and leading him away from the tents. John let Holmes drag him along, thankfully when twelve seconds hit they were far enough from the explosion that it only knocked them to the ground, with John landing slightly on top of Homes with the smallest blush crawling up John's cheeks.

The explosion knocked the breath out of Holmes, but it did no more damage than that. When he regained his whits, he realized he was looking up at Watson, and his cheeks had colored just slightly. It certainly had not been caused by running. Holmes was not one to be easily embarrassed, and yet he felt his self reacting as well, Holmes' face flushing to match John's. Luckily, though, a gunshot shook me back into the real world, this time from our side. Holmes shifted onto his elbows, looking to the side. "They are retreating!"

John stood up holding his hand out to Holmes, "You are a very smart man Mr. Holmes, and right now we are all in your debt. If you ever need anything at all just let me know." finishing John smiled at him.

Holmes took the hand offered to him, pulling his self to his feet. By now he must have been a poor image for a soldier, his coat missing, the rest of his uniform dirty, Holmes covered in dirt and smelling of gasoline, yet he was content. "Please, just Holmes will do, Doctor." Holmes peered around again, contemplating John's words. He was a doctor, he could likely get Holmes cocaine easily... yet he could tell by John's character he would not approve of such a thing. Instead, Holmes smiled wryly. "I'm afraid there is little you could offer me, but your offer is appreciated."

John nodded, "Of course Holmes, just always remember the offer is there." he then turned and went off to see what help he could do. John ran into the medical tent, well what was left of it, and went to the first man he saw. He was moaning of the pain in his side, and even though John have been a doctor for quite some time he could never get used to the sight of a man's guts hanging out of his side. John immediately set to work on the poor man, trying to do the best he could, but sadly ten minutes later he was dead. So John went on to the next man, and for the next few hours he just set to my work, saving people and helping easing there pain, while they died.

A/N:

Hello, this is the first roleplay I ever did(one on one) with the every wonderful MyBoswell. It will be rated M in later chapters, I'm going to rate it to for now because of war, slight violence and cuss words. If you couldn't tell already yes this is John/Sherlock slash. So yes there will be sex, if you don't like stop reading now. Please R&R if you want to.

Lots of Love,

Savannah 3