Sherlock: Johns Stripped Shirt Part 1

Sherlock: John's Stripped Shirt.

Chapter one: What are you up too while I'm gone?



"What is that?" Mycroft asked his brother who was sitting in Mycroft's office with his legs crossed reading.

"What is what?" Sherlock replied as if he didn't know what Mycroft was talking about, "I think you know what I'm speaking of," Mycroft said giving an annoyed smile.

"I haven't the foggiest," Sherlock replied not looking but turning a page in his book pressing his lips together as if what he read was very engaging.

Mycroft walked further into the room setting down his brief case and fiddling with his umbrella.

"Then what is that you are wearing?" Mycroft points out and Sherlock's eyes flicker to his brother, "Clothes, or have I missed the memo that it is now against the law?" Sherlock responded sarcastically.

"Sherlock, I was referring to your shirt," Mycroft says annoyed as he moved to take the seat behind the desk.

"It's a shirt that I am wearing thank you for bring that to my attention," Sherlock returns to looking at his book,

"That," Mycroft starts his tone aggressive, "Is John Watsons shirt," Sherlock looks down to his shirt that still smelled faintly of John, Sherlock almost grinned but knew Mycroft was watching.

"So?" Sherlock shoots back and Mycroft rubs a hand over his face, "Sherlock, you are supposed to be dead, you can't parade around and go to John's flat!" Sherlock rolls his eyes shutting the book and balancing it in his lap.

"I broke in one time to steal one of John's shirts it's not a big deal," Sherlock says touching the fabric of the shirt he wore absent mindedly.

"What if John were home?" Mycroft questions folding his hands on his desk and leaning forward staring his brother down,

"I waited until he went to work; I'm not an idiot Mycroft."

Mycroft runs a hand over his face trying to calm himself, "Look Sherlock I know you miss John,-"

"It is just one shirt get off my back Mycroft," Sherlock snaps tossing the book onto Mycroft's desk to shut him up. Mycroft was used to Sherlock's tantrums so he let it go picking up the book calmly and putting it to the side.

"You need to be careful, is all I am saying." Mycroft's tone goes smooth as he speaks, "Now that you bring it up, what has John been up to?" Sherlock questions, attempting to look not as interested then he really was.

"Well he has gained the company of a woman he met at his job," Mycroft says knowing it would annoy Sherlock.

"I bet she is a cow," Sherlock remarks, jealously filling his core.

The women Mycroft spoke of, was an average women with average features and from what he could gather John was not interested in her romantic wise. That knowledge did not stop Mycroft from taking advantage of the moment.

"She is quite lovely I must say," Mycroft smiles at Sherlock who scowls and shifts in his seat suddenly unable to get comfortable.  

"You are a cruel man, Mycroft." Sherlock says frowning at his brother, "And you are a joy as always," Mycroft responded.

"Now I have work to do and so do you," Mycroft says turning his attention to his beeping mobile phone, "There is nothing to do but wait on a lead at the moment," Sherlock protest sinking in the chair until his neck disappeared behind his chest.

"Well find something to occupy your time because I am going to be rather busy for the next few hours." Mycroft is typing into his mobile as he speaks and Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"Fine," Sherlock pushed himself up to stand, "And stay away from Johns flat, Sherlock." Mycroft called after him.

"Fine!" Sherlock shouted back and pulled out his mobile to text for a private car that Mycroft lets him use since he couldn't just go around calling cabs.

After that is over with Sherlock looks through the "What is John up to" files, it is a direct feed from the people watching John. It gets updated every time John breaths now that was a bit overdramatic, but you get the point. Sherlock didn't' mind the frequency of the update though; he always knew where John was at any time. It was the only comfort Sherlock had since he couldn't physically be with John in a room unless he was in disguises.

John was currently on his way to have lunch with Stamford.

Mycroft said to stay away from John's flat; he clearly said nothing about staying clear of John. Sherlock grinned at his loophole and took long strides to the back of the building to get into the car. It would be nice to see John anyway, Sherlock thought and leaned down to press the shirt he wore to his nose, still smelled of John Watson. Sherlock sighed in content.

Sherlock hated the distance between him and John hated it down to his core but what else could he do? John would have died that day if he didn't jump. Though calling John as he stood down below the building had to be the worst experience of his life. To be fair Sherlock knew it would wreck John but as he stood there watching John watch him was heart breaking, he could say that the tears were for show that he needed John to believe but it would have been a lie. Sherlock cried because John was watching him, he knew he would have to make John suffer through that trauma and knowing he was really saying goodbye broke Sherlock deep down.

Sherlock blinks the memory away his mind racing, he felt like he was ten steps ahead of everyone else but did not know the game. There had to be a game, something to relive the boredom of not using his brain in a proper way.

Sherlock sighs pressing his head back against the soft seat in the car, when his mobile bleeped at him. He retrieved it from his inside coat pocket and let himself smile at the image.

There was an update in the "What is John up to" files, a picture of John smiling as he greeted Stamford.

Sherlock started at the photo, John with his blonde hair neat and a little greyer, his blue eyes bright in the sunlight. He wore a grey jumper today not new but recently cleaned, over a navy blue button up shirt which was new, he has obviously lost weight from lack of eating. His jeans were a size smaller than his normal wear so they hugged his thighs and arse, Sherlock let his eyes linger there for a while it was quite a pleasant sight. Then his eyes came back to John's face, it was clear and flushed but seemed to have acquired another stress line, his smile beaming but his eyes were sad. His eyes are always sad, Sherlock thought frowning.

What I would give to make them smile again, Sherlock sighed long and slow as the car came to a stop and he peeked out the window to see John sitting across from Stamford outside a small café.

John was smiling as he spoke and Stamford seemed intrigued by what the other man was saying. Then a sweet looking waitress came by to ask John if he wanted sugar for his coffee, this made Sherlock grin. His mouth moving in time with John's as he told the waitress,

"I don't take sugar."

Sherlock wanted to get closer, wanted to hear John speak. So he shifted his coat and scarf away from him, he already had on John's blue stripped shirt on so all he needed was a hat and jeans. Sherlock knocked on the blackout glass that separated him from the driver.

"Do you have my bag?" Sherlock asked the man who lowered the window just a n inch to listen to Sherlock.

"Yes, Sir Mr. Holmes." The man answered lowering the window further and dropped a black duffle bag near Sherlock's feet. Then without another word closed the window back up, Sherlock was grateful for this as he kicked off his shoes and wiggled out of his dress trousers.

He slid his long legs into a pair of blue jeans that would match his shirt and yanked a black small coat over him. Then he yanked a black wool hat over his dark curls to cover them and shoved his mobile into his jeans before grabbing a newspaper.

When he I satisfied with he does not look like himself Sherlock knocks on the glass again, and again it opens just an inch from the driver to listen to Sherlock.

"I will text you when I am ready."  

Sherlock opened the car door before the driver could respond and made his way to the café.