The Dating Paradigm

Disclaimer: I own neither Sherlock or John, I'm just taking them out for a spin.

John Watson sighed heavily as he tried to concentrate on making his handwriting look even the tiniest bit neater. There was probably some statistic or study out there that held the answer as to why every doctor's handwriting was always so scruffy and untidy. The fact that he was sitting in a noisy police briefing room wasn't helping him much either. Looking over he saw that Sherlock had already completed three sheets of his statement forms and his handwriting was tiny. Looking longingly out of the window he noticed that it was already beginning to get dark. That was another Saturday spent cooped up in a police station filling out statement forms when he could be doing something more meaningful. Well by meaningful he meant sit at home on the sofa in his pants watching telly. So what if he just wanted to sit at home and watch rubbish on telly? Hunting down criminals and chasing around after Sherlock whilst still trying to keep a few hours' work at the practice took up a lot of time and energy thank you very much.

Sherlock was talking to himself again or possibly to John, sometimes it was hard to tell which, as the pen in his hand sped across the page. Even when he was writing something quickly his handwriting was still neat and precise. Bloody git. Frowning slightly he also noticed that as well as writing down his own statement, Sherlock had also been crossing out the standardised questions on the form and adding in his own. John let out one big noise of frustration, not this again!

Every time they were summoned down to Scotland Yard Sherlock seemed determined to keep them as long as possible as, in his mind at least, any form of officially police paper work was written by "stupid people for even stupider people". Sherlock had desecrated so many pieces of paper work with his own scribbling's that they now had to sit at the front of Lestrade's desk like two errant schoolboys. Thankfully they were largely left to their own devices as the other officers went about their business around them. Sometimes one of the younger officers would tentatively approach them, in a manner that suggested that John and Sherlock were the last two surviving members of the Beatles, and ask wide eyed about what case they were working on. John would freely admit that he quite enjoyed the attention and it was always good when Sherlock got to explain his theories to an audience. Thankfully Lestrade was always on hand to shoo his officers away whenever he could sense that Sherlock was getting bored and tetchy with what he called "imbecilic questioning that a three year old could answer".

However it was Saturday night and John really didn't want to spend the whole evening sat in a dingy police station so he leaned over and rapped Sherlock on the head with his pen. Sherlock jerked his head up instantly and looked over at him through narrowed eyes whilst John gave him a very pointed look.

"What"

"Don't what me; I'm not staying here all night!"

"Honestly John, a five year old could write better questions."

"I don't care, do it properly so we can go home."

"Fine."

"Good."

It should probably scare John how much they managed to express to one another just through the raise of an eyebrow or the twitch of a lip. Strangely enough it never really did bother him that much as Sherlock grabbed another piece of paper and began writing again. Smiling smugly to himself John went back to finishing his own statement.

Half an hour later John was just finishing off the last form and feeling quite chuffed with himself that his handwriting was almost entirely legible when Lestrade sidled up to him.

"You finished John? Do you mind if I have a quick word mate about the football next week?"

"Sure. Back in a few Sherlock," John said, frowning slightly due the fact that as far as he was aware they didn't have any plans for the football next week.

His only response was a grunt and he looked over to see that Sherlock was rewording the questions on the statement form. Again.

"Sherlock, what did I tell you before? I'm not spending all day in here! Do it properly," John huffed in the manner of a disgruntled primary school teacher as he pushed another new form towards the detective.

"We wouldn't have to be here all day if they just asked the right questions in the first place!" Sherlock snapped as he shot Lestrade a very condescending look.

"Nice to see you too Sherlock," Lestrade said jovially as he leant over and gathered up John's completed forms.

"Just shut up and get on with it. I'm not missing another episode of Total Whipeout just because you're being an arse!"

Sherlock sent him a pout worthy of a Victorian maiden, snatched up the form and flounced off to sit by the window, muttering darkly about idiots as he went.

"Yeah, same to you to!" John said as he followed Lestrade over towards the water cooler in the corner of the room.

The briefing room wasn't overly busy as it was a Saturday but there was just enough noise and people milling allowing John and Lestrade to have a relatively uninterrupted conversation. John waited patiently for the detective to start talking but all Lestrade did was make a serious of rather pained facial expressions.

"Are you all right Greg? You look a bit funny," John said somewhat bemusedly as Lestrade seemed to be summoning up the courage to start talking.

"Yes I'm fine, well," Lestrade said not sounding very fine at all, "Before I say anything else John I want you to know that I consider you and Sherlock as two of my closest friends."

"Right," John said. He was beginning to get slightly worried where this was going.

"This is a bit difficult so I'm just going to go ahead and say it. I've got this mate of mine who works in another precinct and I was wondering if-" Lestrade suddenly burst out but John quickly cut him off.

"Look Greg thanks for the offer, I'm flattered really but I'm just not looking to date anyone at the moment. After the whole Sarah fiasco and all the others I think I'd rather just stay away from the whole dating scene," John said as he smiled at Lestrade, hoping he hadn't embarrassed his friend too much.

"Blimey this is awkward. I wasn't asking about you John…. He was after a date with Sherlock," Lestrade broke off awkwardly as John went from white to green faster than a set of traffic lights.

John felt as though someone had come along and rammed something very sharp right between his ribcage. What? What? Someone wanted to go out on a date with Sherlock Holmes? Nobody ever wanted to go out with Sherlock; it was always John that went out on all the dates with all the random women. And sometimes men. Yes there were men as well but that was beside the point.

"Oh… ummm…. Well I suppose if he wants too… then he can…" John trailed off as he suddenly found it very difficult to breath.

"I thought I would check with you first just in case…, " Lestrade said with a rather pointed look at John.

"Why would it matter to me? He can do what he likes, see who he likes. Doesn't make any difference to me," John said in a rather defensive tone. His brain seemed to be functioning again but not on an entirely rational level.

"Right well if you're sure then, I don't want to go stepping on anyone's toes," Lestrade mumbled as he eyed John warily, like he was liable to explode at any given second.

"It's fine, really," John said curtly. The numbness in that had spread throughout his limbs was slowly being replaced a completely irrational feeling of intense anger.

"Phew, you had me going there. I was worried you were going to turn all 'Fatal Attraction' on me! I'll tell him he's got the green light with Sherlock," Lestrade said happily.

"Him? Ohh… I didn't realise it was a guy who wanted to ask him out," John said suddenly. He had largely ignored Lestrades previous remark, his thought process seemed to be revolving around hitting Lestrade very hard in the face for reasons he had yet to define, but the fact that another bloke was asking Sherlock out brought him right back down to earth with an unpleasant bump. This was an unexpected turn of events.

"Ohh sorry, didn't I mention that before? Not a problem is it?"

"No. I just didn't think that Sherlock was you know… into blokes or anyone for that matter really. He said he was married to his work," John stuttered as he felt his insides turn to ice. Why did it matter so much that someone else wanted to take Sherlock out on a date? Well not exactly someone else, another man. Some unknown male stranger that had suddenly, out of nowhere seemingly, taken an interest in Sherlock.

"Well I suppose I won't know until I ask him. I just presumed that he might get on better with a guy," Lestrade said as if the thought had only just occurred to him.

"I doubt he would agree to go anyway. A case might come up and he's got an experiment on the go, something involving fingers. He's really tetchy about leaving it for too long," John garbled as Lestrade looked horrified at the mention of the word fingers.

"I'm sure he can spare one night away from his fingers or whatever else he's got going on in that health hazard of a kitchen," Lestrade said as he started to move back towards where Sherlock was sat.

"Are you sure this mate of yours would even want to go out with him? I mean, I don't think he's even been on a date before. Some people might think that that's a bit weird," John burst out, fully aware that he currently sounded like the world's biggest arsehole.

Lestrade looked slightly taken aback, which was understandable as John was habitually telling people like Donovan and Anderson off whenever they were being mean to Sherlock.

"Oh… well I'm sure he won't be that fussed by it. I'm surprised nobody else has asked him out before now. Good looking bloke like that will get snapped up sooner or later," Lestrade said with a roughish wink at John.

"Well looks only get you so far don't they? What about his personality? Not many people are going to want to be insulted every time they pronounce something wrong or have their grammar picked to shreds every time they open their mouth," John's brain was clearly not done with tearing his best friend to pieces.

"Don't worry, I've fully briefed him on Sherlock's little eccentricities," Lestrade chuckled although he was giving John a very odd look. Like he was afraid that John might suddenly take a run at him and attack.

"If by eccentricities you mean being downright rude and nasty then I'm sure they'll have a whale of a time. Does he have a glutton for punishment this mate of yours?" John snapped. Clearly someone had knocked the switch in his brain from Nice Guy John to Utter Bastard John.

"Blimey, if that's how you talk about Sherlock I dread to think what you say about me when I'm not around," Lestrade said only half-jokingly as he looked warily over to the corner where Sherlock was luckily still absorbed in making sure he filled out his statement form incorrectly.

"I'd probably say that maybe you should think about the repercussions before you go setting up Sherlock with random strangers!" Utter Bastard John seemed to be on a roll now and Nice Guy John was having a hard time reining him in.

"Repercussions? What the bloody hell are you talking about John?" Lestrade said as he dragged John further behind the water cooler. Some of the other officers were beginning to stare at them.

"What I'm talking about is that how's it going to look when this mate of yours expects Sherlock to jump into bed with him and then finds out that he's a-," Nice Guy John managed to put the brakes on before Utter Bastard John said something that they would both regret.

"Finds out that Sherlock's what?" Lestrade questioned sharply.

"That he's… you know… that he's never… been with anyone like that," John muttered.

"How do you know that he hasn't been with anyone?" Lestrade asked as he quirked an eyebrow at John.

"Well… I don't, well not for definite," John admitted, "But it's not like he's makes it a habit to go off shagging every bloke he meets. Most people would probably think that's a bit weird."

"Well there you go then. I'm sure Sherlock will leave with his virtue intact. Unless he doesn't want to of course. Everyone needs a little bit of a release now and then, Sherlock especially. A good shag might be just what he needs," Lestrade smirked as he gave John another knowing looks.

A very large part of John's brain just wanted to scream "OH JUST GO FUCK YOURSELF!" very loudly at Lestrade and possibly punch him on the nose. Instead he turned and attempted to stalk away with his head held high only for Lestrade to catch hold of his arm and pull him back.

"Look John are you sure you're ok with this? I can tell my friend it's not going to happen if you would rather," Lestrade asked with real concern in his voice.

"Of course it's fine. Why wouldn't it be fine? It doesn't matter to me at all if Sherlock wants to run off with the first bloke that takes an interest in him, which is probably just because he's been in the press anyway, it's all perfectly fine. I'm perfectly fine," John said very well aware that his voice had taken on a slightly strangled tone and that he had used the word fine once too many times.

"Seriously John I can tell him no," Lestrade said gently as he tried to move John further behind the water cooler. He didn't need this conversation being used as office gossip; Sally had already glanced over at them twice.

"I said its fine Greg. Sherlock can go out and shag whoever he wants. It doesn't matter in the slightest to me," John said as he shook off Lestrade's grip on him and abruptly turned away only to find Sherlock standing directly behind him.

"I'm going back to the flat," he snapped as Sherlock gave him a very strange look. If Nice Guy John had been in the driving seat he would have noticed that a flicker of hurt passed in Sherlock's eyes. Instead Utter Bastard John shoved passed him and almost knocked Sally Donovan over as he marched out of the room.

Striding purposely down the stairs he scattered a few younger officers out of the way by barking angrily at them. Couldn't they see he was trying to get down the stairs in a hurry? This was all Lestrade's bloody fault. He had been in a perfectly good mood before all this silly date business. And why did Lestrade keep asking if John was ok? Why shouldn't he be ok? Sherlock was perfectly within his rights to date whoever he pleased. Just because some bloke had asked Lestrade to put in a good word for him didn't mean that Sherlock would even agree to the date. Sherlock wasn't exactly a people person and for all his intellect he was woefully inept when it came to normal social conventions.

On his way out of Scotland Yard he passed Anderson talking loudly on his phone.

"You're joking? Someone's asked that thing out on a date? I can't believe I missed that," Anderson crowed as he shoved passed John.

"Watch it!" John snarled as he stumbled out of the door.

"Oh it's you. Sally was just telling me all about Sherlock's big date," Anderson said as he grinned maliciously at John.

"Just sod off Anderson," John snapped as he started to walk away.

"Touchy, touchy Doctor. We all thought it would be you who got the first go around on the Freak. Maybe when he's got some practice in you can have a go!" Anderson shouted after him.

John muttered some very extravagant swear words under his breath as he hailed down a passing cab. Why was everyone so interested in Sherlock Holme's sex life all of a sudden?

"Where to mate?"

"221b Baker Street," John said as he slumped back against the seat, wishing all the while that he had just stayed at home and watched some crap telly.

Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter, the next one should be up within the next few days. xx