Archive of Our Own

John may not be a genius, but he can tell when something unique and interesting comes along. He knows when he's holding something fragile and that dropping said fragile thing - which in this fucked up metaphor is probably Sherlock's regard, for lack of a better word - would be a disaster of epic proportions. That when Sherlock looks at him like he'd look at a crucial piece of evidence, it's something to savour. The only proper thing to do in return for something so rare and precious is to treat it with the care it deserves.

The still look on Sherlock's face for those brief seconds when John's voice answered him beside the swimming pool would have taught him that, if he hadn't realized it already. The tiny corners of his mind not preoccupied with there's enough explosive strapped to me to blow up an armoured vehicle had screamed in protest -

How could you even think, even for a second - I would never - I promise, not to you.

Moriarty said he'd burn out Sherlock's heart. Right at this very moment, he's probably plotting something. Some way to get at Sherlock, through John. Because Moriarty thought he saw human weakness in Sherlock, weakness shaped like John Watson.

(Clever as he is, Moriarty has only an imperfect understanding of how the heart really works. Emotionally stunted people tend to fall into that trap.)

He knows he can't do it alone. Moriarty's got his fingers in all sorts of pies, tools John can't even imagine. It's an impossible task for him, just a simple, wounded (former) military doctor.

(A war vet who always scored at least 9 out of 10 on every task back in basic training. Perfect marks in the shooting ranges. But most people don't realize that.)

But. It's certainly not impossible for Mycroft.

The most difficult part turns out to be hiding it from Sherlock. If he found out, he'd probably be highly offended, his pride dented by John asking for help from another source. Even worse, asking for help from Mycroft.

So. Sherlock must not know. Which is a big problem, because John is not in the habit of hiding things from Sherlock. (Or trying to, which is probably the right way to refer to what he'd be doing.) When he understood what Sherlock could do, he'd pretty much given up all hope of it. What's the point in wasting the effort?

(The military frowns on waste. In principle, anyway. And John is sadly - even a little pathetically - a very well turned out product of the military.)

In the end, he has to involve Sarah. That part is far from ideal - she didn't ask to be dragged into all this - but it was the only way he could think of to escape Sherlock's notice.

Sherlock actually stops playing his violin when John's getting ready to leave in order to look him over.

"See you tomorrow, then. Not too late, there's work to be done."

"How did you - "

John's surprise is only a little feigned. Mostly habitual.

Sherlock looks bored. This task is a little too easy. "The way you're dressed. The aftershave you're wearing. Cologne. And you walk differently."

"I - do?"

That part wasn't intentional.

"Yes," Sherlock murmurs, already absorbed in his violin again.

John leaves for Sarah's. Mycroft's waiting.

John doesn't get to do much, in the end. Turns out most of the work in taking down a vast network of crime has to be done by professionals. But Mycroft does like his dramatic denouements (him and Sherlock, they're quite a pair that way) -

- and that's how John gets to be the man who puts a gun against Moriarty's head.

(Sherlock is going to be very irritated to have missed most of this. Couldn't be helped, he was the best candidate when they needed bait.)

Moriarty laughs hysterically when John clicks off the safety. "Really? All this and it was - it was you? I'm disappointed."

John pulls the trigger.

Sherlock will forgive John for breaking his favourite new toy eventually. That's what friends do - they compromise.

fin.