An Awkward Conversation... {DoctorRedPants and Miss_Saffy}

It had been a long, arduous day for one Sherlock Holmes, and as he lay on the sofa, hands laced together in a prayer position, he had begun to try and figure out the complexity of his flatmate's non-existent love life in an attempt to stop himself from going ... well, more insane than he already was.

It had been quite some time since John's stuttering questioning regarding Sherlock's sexual preferences, for which the other man was glad. However, it was also a bit bemusing. For although John had seemed... well, interested, for lack of a better word, he'd never brought it up after that; even if the world did keep on assuming that they were... what was that hideous sentimental word?... ah, a couple. Since then, John had gone out on numerous dates; and none of them even slightly successful. The nearest his friend had had to successful had been Sarah; but then, she seemed like the feisty type who apparently liked some sort of danger. As far as Sherlock knew, the two weren't exclusive, but there was certainly a spark there.

And then there was... the ... protection he felt towards his flatmate. A puzzling thing; to which Sherlock had first just simply denounced as being normal; but it wasn't normal. For this was Sherlock; the freak, the genius, the one without-a-heart... and yet, he could not deny that John was... doing things to him. Total and complete sentiment, of course, but true nonetheless. It was rather annoying, really.

Standing up, the brunette moved over to the window, having heard a taxi pull up. Sure enough, he noted his flatmate leaving the taxi - no woman following... hmm. Shaking his head, the detective pulled his violin from its case, and settled back on the sofa, cradling the violin as he tuned it into submission, needing to get John out of his thoughts.

When John thought about his date with Kim that morning, he realized he was actually quite optimistic about it and was looking forward to going on a date for the first time in months. She was quite short, maybe the same height as him? blonde, dark eyes and she laughed at everything he said. She seemed like the perfect woman to go out with. Well, until he /actually/ went out with her.

At first everything had been fine. She seemed a little flustered and too enthusiastic for a first date but John had done his best and ignored it. Of course that didn't work so well when she started laughing. At everything that came out of John's mouth. Even if it wasn't funny. And Christ, was she boring. She had absolutely nothing to talk about all evening so she apparently thought that gossiping about other people at the table next to theirs would be a good idea. John shuddered as he got out of the cab at the memory. He couldn't get away from her faster. And he promised he'd call from the fear of her actually throwing a tantrum if he said otherwise.

He stood on the sidewalk for a few moments then looked up at the window into their living room. It was dark inside but John was certain Sherlock was there. Maybe on the couch, moping like he usually did when there was no case.

He had no idea why he bothered dating. No women seemed to satisfy him lately. Who knew? Maybe he had gotten picky ever since he'd gotten back. He had no right to, though. He was past his prime. He should consider it nice that women even wanted to go out with someone as broken as he was. Although Kim...she was another story. He should have gotten a medal for ignoring his itch to introduce her to Sherlock and watch as his flatmate destroyed her with his words. Nah, that would have been too cruel. Though he would have enjoyed it, no doubt. He chuckled softly and started making his way inside, slowly. Not really eager to explain to Sherlock why /this/ date didn't work out either. He didn't even want to think about it him, though he already knew the answer. None of the women were him. Sherlock. None could compete with him. They were all boring and just playing...wrong.

Shaking his head, John made his way up the stairs and into their flat where he found Sherlock attending to his violin. He forced a smile and took off his coat. "Glad to see you've moved positions since this morning."

Raising a brief eyebrow, the detective declined the temptation to snort with amusement; judging by the way John was holding himself, and how fast he'd managed to get up the steps of the flat, the date had not gone to plan. A tiny part of Sherlock's brain cheered in victory, whilst the rest of him squashed that little part into a tiny compartment, and ignored it. He smirked a bit, and looked up, a hint of an amused smile on his face.

"Bad date?" he stated, more than guessed, watching his flatmate move around the room. "You haven't been this grumpy for a while... so what was it? Bad conversation? Bad breath - ah, no sex?" The words were honestly curious, even if his tone showed a slight hint of irony, it was completely unintentional. "What was her name.... Sam... no, that wasn't it... ah... Kim... that was the one, wasn't it?" he looked expectantly up at his blogger.

(ooc: ... apologies for Sherlock's lack of tact!!)

And there is was. The mocking and teasing he got from Sherlock every time he went on a date. He couldn't make sense of what that man's problem was. Why he was always so interested in how his dates went. He knew when they went bad and when they were good, did he really have to rub it in after a bad one?

He didn't bother replying to him. John simply walked over to the couch and dropped down, face down onto it, groaning softly and praying that Sherlock would stop with his so called interrogation.

Frowning as he noted that John didn't seem to thrilled with his deduction, Sherlock turned a bit to face his best friend, letting his eyes sweep over the other man's form. Defeat shook in every edge, and he wondered whether John was more upset than he was letting on. "You know, John," he began, awkwardly - making people feel better wasn't exactly something he was used to doing, but he'd try, for John - "Sex.... it isn't everything. The body can learn to abstain. Priests do it; monks do it... " he paused. "Perhaps... it would be easier if you did. Abstain. Then... you wouldn't get disappointed."

He really had no idea why he was trying to lift John's spirits - but for some reason, John being upset made Sherlock uncomfortable, made him want to make the man happy again. He'd never understand why; he supposed it was one of those "friends" things. "Mrs Hudson has two neices," Sherlock blurted suddenly; not quite sure why he was. "They.... are a bit younger than you, but... apparently they are both decent people. She could... introduce you?"

John stared up at the ceiling and fought against the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Sherlock, for once, had good intentions. But he didn't want to hear it. He let out a small sigh and closed his eyes. "It's not about the bloody sex, Sherlock." He replied frustratedly as he sat up on the couch, glaring down at the floor. "I've gone without sex, I'm not an animal. I just want a connection with someone that's not you. With someone who has no connection to 221b Baker Street." He was starting to get more pissed off now with each word. "Is that so impossible? Can I not have a life outside of..." He stopped and looked at Sherlock, his gaze softening up a little. "...you."

Oh. So, that's what this was about. Well, he supposed it wouldn't last forever; this easy comrady between them. John wanted out... apparently. What had been the tipping point, Sherlock wondered? The feet in the freezer - no, John hadn't minded those as long as they didn't go anywhere near the food. The violin playing at two am? ... His friend hadn't complained so far. Whatever it was that had turned John away from him, Sherlock was at a bit of a loss. But... well, if his friend wanted out, then Sherlock wouldn't stop him.

"I had no idea my presence was such a hindrance." he spoke candidly. "If my being here sustains you from... what is that hideous expression you used? Gaining a connection, then you are more than welcome to leave. There is no reason for you to stay," he paused, viewing John critically. "Unless..." a lightbulb seemed to ping in his head. "You like being miserable?"

A look of hurt flashed over John's features at Sherlock's words. Was it that easy to go living without him then that he could just up and leave and it wouldn't bother Sherlock for a second? He sighed. It was his own fault for letting himself get attached to the man even though Sherlock had told him he was married to his work. " I don't enjoy being miserable, no.I stay because of you!" John couldn't hold it back any more. Couldn't Sherlock see? For God's sake, he was the best detective in the world. How could he miss this. "I'm...I'm not miserable. I just...want something more than this, that's all."

He stopped and took in Sherlock's confused expression and rolled his eyes. "Of course you have no idea what I'm talking about. Good night Sherlock." He turned around rather abruptly and left before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

Confusion whirled around in Sherlock's brain, as he attempted to understand what the other man was telling him. It should be simple - John was speaking English, after all - but ... for some reason, the brunette couldn't quite understand what his friend was getting to. It almost sounded as though - no. No, that was ridiculous. Impossible, in fact. There wasn't a chance... was there? His mind flittered to the very first conversation he'd had with John on this topic - sitting in the resteraunt, with John... what exactly had the other man been doing? At the time Sherlock had thought he was propositioning him; but considering how obviously straight his best friend was... he was fairly certain that wasn't the case. Was it?

Oh, dear God. Another light-bulb moment, and Sherlock stood abruptly, his violin safe on the sofa as he stared at John, uncomprehendingly. "John..." he started, then faltered, completely unsure as to what to say.