Chapter One

A New Development

Sherlock stared at the glowing screen of his laptop, his thoughts plowing beyond the mundane matters of his website and all the helpless people contacting him, begging for assistance, looking for an easy solution. Yes, his mind bypassed all that and settled on a much more troublesome topic.

John.

Sherlock irritably shut down his laptop, and sat back in the overstuffed armchair he currently occupied. Life had thrown him the first truly-impossible-to-conquer curveball. And it drove him mad. He was so used to using his mental powers to turn ordinary people's problems to dust, but it was different, this. This had more to it than observation and scrutiny and analysis. He wanted so desperately to view this new struggle the way he did everything else—efficiently and mechanically. But feelings are feelings and no amount of clever deductions will decipher them. Sherlock tented his fingertips together in a customary thinking position, listening to the faint splashing of John showering upstairs. He sighed.

His problem was this: he liked John. He really did; he admired John's loyal nature, underlying sensitivity, and ability to keep stone-calm in danger. That was all fine, of course—for two mates to enjoy each other's company—but Sherlock noticed John's subtle attractiveness, the way he wore his jumpers and jeans with an understated elegance, and he often lost himself in those hard blue eyes. There was something so appealing to Sherlock about John's warmth and kindness and morals. And for Sherlock, the man so prone to addiction, the man who didn't give self-care a second thought, the man who lived previously in a cold, sterile mind palace, John Watson was a fascinating new study. A study in human qualities, and yes—a study in feelings.

Sherlock stiffened slightly as the splashing of water ceased. There was the sound of the bathroom door clicking open, then shut, and John came downstairs clad in his dressing gown, running a hand through his wet hair.

"Anything in the fridge?" he asked by way of greeting. "It's nearly dinnertime."

Sherlock smirked and looked out the window. "If you're in the mood for the large intestine, then yes, bon appetite."

"Oh, God." John stopped sharply and turned to stare beseechingly at Sherlock. "You're joking."

"I wouldn't joke about an experiment."

John walked over to stand closely before Sherlock, annoyed. "If you—"

"I haven't done anything with it, John." Sherlock folded his long arms and looked up at his flatmate with an even and inscrutable expression. "I rearranged the contents of the refrigerator before adding the intestine; I didn't chuck your jam in the rubbish. Even I'm not that cruel." He smiled slightly, seeing the relief in John's face, and averted his eyes, hating the flush he knew was spreading over his cheekbones.

"Well—good. Thank you." John moved hastily away; Sherlock knew he was embarrassed for being so uncharacteristically accusatory. But no one stands between John Watson and jam.

After gazing at John's retreating figure, Sherlock reached over a stack of papers and grasped his violin with a gentle grip.

"Composed anything new, lately?" asked John, fiddling with the kettle.

Yes, thought Sherlock. "No," he answered, calmly.

"Why not?"

"There are more important matters, John."

"Composing helps you think." John looked over with mild concern.

"Well, my thought process hasn't required extra assistance."

John snorted and set the water to boil.

Sherlock thought of the songs he'd composed when John made his annual runs to the supermarket. Covert melodies that he did not intend for John to hear. Each time he heard the doctor coming up the stairs, rustling grocery bags in hand, he'd interrupt his own playing and fling himself onto the sofa, hurrying to form his long limbs into a customary thinking position. And John would come in, and they would talk and argue and laugh, and Sherlock would "delete" his feelings.

The trouble was, unlike the other information, the feelings always came back.

Well, there you go...the first installment of a twenty chapter story! I hope you like it; tell me what you thought, I so appreciate it!

-Spark Writer-