Elementary, my dear Watson.
Last update
2020-03-25 05:09:01

    Sherlock never actually needed a flatmate. His name was already on the lease, Mrs. Hudson already adored him, already owed him a favor. Sherlock is well-off when it comes to money anyways. His big brother occupies a “minor” position in the British government, for god sakes; or rather, he is the British government. There is absolutely no reason for him to have needed help paying the rent, and I really don’t think he did. The fact he was already moved in says enough that he didn’t, actually! And the fact that Mrs. Hudson thought John was Sherlock’s partner is even more telling, because chances are, he didn’t explain why he was suddenly bringing another man home to live with him. She obviously would have known that he didn’t actually need help paying the rent, so he didn’t bother lying to her. He didn’t offer the same explanation that he did for John or Mike Stanford, and because he didn’t, she was left to her assumptions. Why, honestly, would she have assumed that they were gay if Sherlock told her in advance that he just needed help paying the rent? She wouldn’t have. The only reason she did was because Sherlock didn’t tell her he had intended on splitting the rent with someone. Why would he, if it would have been obvious to her that it was a lie? I don’t think he needed help with the rent at all.

    I think, rather, he was lonely and interested in having a ‘goldfish’.


    In other words, John Watson was the closest thing to a partner Sherlock would have allowed himself, and he was curious. Their meeting, and their companionship, was very intentional. It was planned. Sherlock intended for it to give him insight on what it was like to have company, but more importantly, what it was like to have a friend. So I will reiterate one more time: their meeting had nothing to do with splitting the rent.

    John, sneaking up behind a very thoughtful Sherlock, casually drapes his arms over his shoulders. He starts feeling over his chest, petting him, kissing his ear, ect. Anything he can think of to get Sherlock’s attention, he does.

    Sherlock seems to ignore him for a few moments, fingers still steepled at his chin, before finally peeping up. But the tone he takes on isn’t a warm one. It’s cold, analytical, and entirely focused on something that obviously isn’t his flatmate. When he speaks, the octave is low, and his words dismissive: “… Please, do try to keep your distance. I am trying to think, and your hands are very distracting.”

    John, being a tease and apparently not catching the seriousness in Sherlock’s tone, continues anyways. His hands continue to trail over the front of his shirt, smoothing out the fabric, and affectionately mapping out the definitions of his chest with his fingers: “Are they now? Distracting you.”

    Sherlock’s silence has made a sudden comeback and he doesn’t even bother with a reply. He simply sits, utterly still, with his fingers resting against his chin. He isn’t receptive at all to the touches he’s receiving, and John feels almost like he’s hugging a statue. Only then does he get the idea. He pulls away reluctantly, and stands up straight as if ready to walk off. His voice holds a bit of disappointment as he speaks: "Right, then. Affection is bad news for brain work I suppose… sorry for interrupting.”

    The silence continues for another brief moment before Sherlock realizes John’s hands are missing from him, and something about the absence, apparently, bothers him; he perks up, opens his eyes, and turns suddenly, looking aghast if not slightly offended that John had actually removed himself from his person: "Wait, what— where are you going, what are you doing?”

    John pauses for a good few seconds, and then tries to bite back a bit of an intrigued, if not slightly confused grin. He looks Sherlock up and down and quirks an eyebrow before speaking up, quietly:“I’m… stopping, leaving the room? You asked me to.”

    Sherlock looks bewildered, his expression feigning offense still. He glances down at a random object to his left as if looking for an answer there, then turns to John again, his eyebrows furrowing:“No, I didn’t.”

    John is full on grinning now, though he looks even more confused than before, even having to fight a laugh at his lover’s sudden change in mood: “Sherlock—”

    Before he can continue, he’s rudely interrupted by the detective, who has now turned his attention away again: “I was only complaining. I don’t recall asking you to stop.”

    Now it’s John’s turn to be silent, bewildered. After a moment’s hesitation he quietly resumes his position behind Sherlock, and gingerly wraps his arms around him again. Sherlock’s posture softens under his hands, and his eyes close as if ready to pick up where he’d left off the first time. He waits until John has settled completely to steeple his fingers at his chin again, and mutters quietly: “Yes. Thank you.”

    More silence passes between the two of them, Sherlock apparently in his mind palace, and John holding onto him for warmth. He nuzzles at his ear softly, and mumbles against it after a few quiet moments:“… I know you’re here, Sherlock. How long do you intend on sitting, pretending to be in your mind palace like this?”

    With that, the detective smiles, finally. He leans his head against John’s and chuckles, keeping his fingers neatly steepled at his chin though the both of them know there’s no reason for them to stay there anymore. When his reply comes, it’s soft and simple, and he emphasizes his contentment by leaning into the warmth of the other man’s lips against his ear.

    … Ages.”

    Imagine if you will, a young Sherlock in his grade school class.

    The teacher has proposed a game of heads up seven up. Easy. Little Sherlock is picked the first round, thumbs down, and when it comes his turn to guess who tagged him out, obviously, he knows who immediately. He explains, tiny as he is, in great detail. 

    He loves the game because it gives him an opportunity to deduce, and do so out loud for the class, and he does it smiling because he loves it. it’s like his own personal show and tell. Firstly, he explains a few things. How he listened to the slightly weightier footsteps of whoever tagged him and through the process of elimination decided who it might be and who it clearly wasn’t. He explains how he felt the brushing of a long shirt sleeve against his wrist. More possibilities eliminated. He goes on and on, until he wins. Maybe he goes a little too far and deduces for everyone who was picked. Maybe he accidentally misses the point of the game and solves the whole thing, calls each person out one by one. His classmates aren’t happy. Maybe, after that, they even start being mean to him.

    The next time the game is played, Sherlock like usual is excited. He’s ready to participate and play, and he waits and waits and waits and expects to be picked, but… no one chooses him. He doesn’t get to play, and class lets out. He goes home feeling isolated and disappointed, and more than just a little sad. He feels lonely. Then comes the third and the fourth game, the fifth and the sixth. It’s a reoccurring theme now that his classmates aren’t picking him, and being the smart little guy he is he knows that. He knows it’s deliberate. He goes from playing the game, to being on the sidelines, sitting in the middle of the classroom. Alone but surrounded. Excellent but never picked. He’s not being included anymore and it hurts somewhere in his funny little head knowing his classmates don’t like him because he’s weird or a show off or whatever other names they call him. He puts his head down on his desk and tries to play anyways. Maybe he holds onto a shred of hope that he will be picked, eventually. Maybe the teacher will make everybody be nice to him.

    Then one day, his heart aching, his little face buried in his arms on the desk waiting to be picked— someone makes him jump. Someone does the unexpected, and they tap him. He’s filled with bewilderedness and excitement and anticipation and it takes all of his energy not to cry or peek, and when it comes the time to finally look up, he does so with his thumb down for the first time in weeks. He’s confused, feeling a million things at once— and then he locks eyes with an unfamiliar face among the rest at the front of the class. A new student, one that had been introduced a few days prior. John Watson. And he’s smiling at him.

    Sherlock knows it’s him, obviously, but he guesses wrong on purpose. He wouldn’t want to scare off his new friend with his cleverness. 


    S1 E3

    Let’s talk about the scene that comes right after the opening credits real quick. (From the moment it pans in on sherlock to the explosion that happens shortly afterword. If you need to, go re-watch it… anyways.)

    I don’t really feel like writing a novel at the moment, so, to shorten things up a bit.


  • He very pointedly waits until he hears someone start up the stairs to fire his last four rounds into the wall. Like… he waits for an audience (aka his very own John Watson) before resuming his tantrum.
  • The dramatic toss of his robe as he flops on, and curls into the sofa; immediately assuming the fetal position.
  • “Where are you going?”
  • How he watches John leave through the window like a literal puppy once their spat is over with.
  • And finally… that mischevious little smirk he has when Mrs. Hudson asks about what he did to the wall. This man is a 6’0 baby.
  • 2-2-1-b

    I think we all loved stag night. We got the leg touch™ and our boys damn near cuddled on the stairs, not to mention the fact that they played a silly game together drunk as absolute piss. Now, I’m definitely one for overanalysing johnlock moments. So I might be reaching a little bit here— but I want to talk about their client and dissect the dialogue between them a little bit, just because it’s fun to think about. So here goes:

    “I don’t, a lot… I mean, I don’t date all that much and… he just seemed nice, you know? We seemed to automatically connect. We had one night, dinner. Such interesting conversation, it was lovely.”

    John smiles like a doofus and even chuckles softly, glancing at Sherlock. I’d like to think he’s kind of reminiscing about the first night they met as he listens to her speak, because it went exactly like that, didn’t it? Even down to the bit about John not dating or going out much. Even down to dinner. Even down to them connecting almost instantaneously. One night was all they needed for a connection to be made.

    “To be honest, I’d love to have gone further but—“

    At this point Sherlock startles a little bit, suddenly removing his arm from behind John and his hand from his back once he realizes exactly how close they are. It’s almost as if he has to remind himself to, lest he get too carried away with it. Because god knows hed love to go further, but he’s aware that he shouldn’t and the words of their client is what reminds him to not let his guard down. You can tell his hand was actually resting on John just from how quickly he retracts it, and how John responds once his touch is gone. He’d love to have gone further, but, no. He couldn’t allow himself. Thank god somebody reminded him he was getting too close. They’re kind of applying the story she’s telling to themselves. I think Sherlock is applying it to the present more than to the past, though.

    And then comes the line where she says “maybe he wasn’t as keen as I was” and boy, is the face that John makes telling. He looks up at the ceiling, and in my opinion, kinda looks like a chord has been struck with him. Which is why he looks away. He believes his feelings were unrequited. He’s been in their client’s shoes before. One lovely night with so many expectations that were never actually met, because maybe Sherlock wasn’t as keen as he originally thought. Maybe he was lead on. When the simple truth is that Sherlock just didn’t want to get too close, which is a feeling he’s still battling with. He can’t get passed simply testing the waters, and neither know what the other is thinking— but we the audience can read it in their faces and in their body language, which is a reoccurring theme throughout the whole episode. How they feel about each other is tragic, and here’s the reason:

    They are in love, but they are in love in silence.


    As an added bonus, when Sherlock finally peeps up and rouses John out of his sleep? He puts his hand out of frame (presumably on his thigh— I think squeezing it after a moment because John doesn’t respond immediately) and John smacks it away for waking him up! Then Sherlock says this.

    “I apologize about my— y’know— thing…”

    What did you actually want to say, Sherlock? 🧐

    I want you to think about how when breaking the news of his engagement to Mrs. Hudson, John chose to use the phrase “I’ve moved on” because personally, when I think about it? I believe 100% he chose those words for a reason.

    It’s quite obvious that he didn’t take any of his past girlfriends all that seriously, because he had Sherlock. I think in a very real sense they were more of a couple than John was with any of the girls that he had actually dated, and somewhere, he knew that. Irene certainly did. I mean, it was to the point that he quite literally confused them with each other. Why else would it be that he needed to explicitly state that he’d moved on when engaged to Marry, if not for the fact that he was finally trying to move passed his love for Sherlock?

    Because Mary was the first person aside from Sherlock that he actually took seriously— simply because Sherlock wasn’t there to reciprocate his affections. I don’t think he felt any genuine love for his girlfriends. I think he knew those relationships weren’t meant to last, because they were just a distraction from what he couldn’t obtain… Sherlock. But he still had him. In every sense of the word, he still had him. That changed when he died.

    This time, he wasn’t dating a woman simply to distract himself from what he thought he couldn’t obtain. He was distracting himself from what was now impossible to obtain. The man he loved was dead. However improbable, up until Sherlock died, it was still a very real possibility that they might fall in love. Now it wasn’t. John was utterly heartbroken. He had to move on for himself, and now, he had no choice but to take this woman seriously. For the first time since well before he had met Sherlock, somebody that wasn’t him had his undivided attention. Because he simply wasn’t there for him to love even more than he did Mary. And she was so, so much like him. He’d moved on. He’d moved on—

    Hadn’t he?

    I need a Sherlock adaptation where Holmes actually manages dissuading Watson from his romantic endeavors with women. I want an adaptation where Watson softly agrees, the two living in quiet solidarity; that they should be dedicated only to their work and to each other than to anyone in the outside world. Sherlock may consider himself detached from “proper” romance but he can’t deny their partnership or their chemistry. And I just want an adaptation where, as a sort of silent love confession, John agrees to take on that way life with him.

    I want them both to be married to “the work” and in a way, to each other, while leaving things ambiguous to the outside world. To quietly fall in love in the most unconventional, obscure way possible. For Watson to swear off any sort of romantic interaction for the sole purpose of being loyal to Sherlock, which is what I think our detective wants, canonically. And I want the gesture to cause Sherlock to fall in love… completely by accident, in a much more traditional sense of the word than I think either of them would have expected from him. I want for a love to blossom that exceeds all labels, and for it to catch them both off guard.

    But more than anything, I just want them to be together.


    John Watson has a bad habit of self projecting on people, something I’ve mentioned in the past and on at least one post that I can think of. This isn’t relevant right now, but will be in a moment. So, here goes.

    I’m rewatching ASIP currently, and one thing in particular really caught my attention about the deductions Sherlock makes regarding John. More specifically, this bit:

    “You’ve got a brother worried about you, but you won’t go to him for help because you don’t approve of him— possibly because he’s an alcoholic, but more than likely because he recently walked out on his wife.”

    Why is this particular deduction so interesting, aside from the fact that Sherlock was wrong about Harry being a man? Well.

    There’s a popular headcanon I’ve seen floating around that John and Harry were raised in a homophobic household, which explains the limited (if not nonexistent) contact they both have with their own family, aside from what little contact they have with each other… people also often speculate that Harry’s marriage ended due to her alcoholism (it’s even on the wiki page) but honestly, I disagree. It’s explicitly stated that Clara didn’t leave her. Harry is the one that left, despite the fact that she was the one drinking. I think Clara wanted to stick it out, but Harry refused the help and instead rejected her. And I think I know the reason.

    Assuming John’s family is actually homophobic I imagine Harry would really struggle with wanting to be accepted by them while also marrying the woman she loved, thus possibly resulting in her alcoholism. Rejection, especially by your own family, is some painful shit to go through. She was likely struggling with that and, eventually, out of fear of losing her family and possibly out of some form of internalized homophobia/self-hatred for having disappointed them, she decided to divorce Clara, and gave her phone to the only person she could think of who wouldn’t chastise her or even possibly destroy the phone— her brother, our very own John Watson— to “rid” of it. Why would she want to keep something that would only remind her of her love lost, of how her family mistreated her for trying to pursue her own happiness? Why would she want to be reminded of how she ultimately gave it up because she buckled under the pressure of her homophobic relatives?

    What interests me the most about this is that John canonically disapproves of Harry having left Clara, but he was still willing to take the phone from her. And that fact alone has me thinking. What made him care so much? If they’ve “never got on much to begin with” then why on earth would he care about her marital status let alone express his disapproval reguarding her ending it? Well— and this is where it gets interesting— I think now is where his projecting comes into play.

    I very sincerely think that during his deployment, John fell in love with Major Sholto. And out of fear for what his family would think, he didn’t pursue that love affair. It ended as quickly as it began, if it even started at all, before Sholto was more or less exiled for the collateral damage he caused. This was around the same time John was injured and inviladed from the military. Dr. Watson had a chance at love, and he failed to take it or was rejected when he tried. And here his sister is, having actually done something about her feelings. She got to marry the woman she loves, just to give it all away? Just to leave her so easily, to give in to her family’s outdated opinions? Of course he’s angry. She took a chance he didn’t have the courage to take himself, and has now aborted it before seeing it through to the end. He doesn’t want to ask Harry for help in finding a place to stay, not just because they don’t get on. But because he is angry. More so at himself than at her, but it is so much easier to project how you feel onto other people than it is to admit that you are broken. And we have watched John project like that before. It does happen way later on in the series, but it happens nonetheless. Here’s the only example you need:

    “You bloody moron! She’s out there, she likes you, and she’s alive! And do you have the first idea how lucky you are?” “Do something while there’s still a chance, because that chance doesn’t last forever. It’s gone before you know it. Before you know it.”

    Now apply those words not to the person John originally directed them to, but to Harry, in this scenario. And then think about how they could, just as easily, apply to John himself. Not even necessarily in regards to Mary…. but to Sholto. Even to Sherlock.

    In conclusion, I think despite not being able to admit his own feelings, he is angry at Harry for denying hers. He’s angry that she has to do that to herself and to the person she loves and he’s angry at Sherlock for (apparently) not being receptive to love at all. More than that, he’s angry at himself for doing the exact same, not just once, but twice. And he would rather project and be on bad terms with her than admit he is in the same damn boat and angry with himself. He would rather that then admit he’s fallen in love with not just one man, but with two.

    Oh, the poor man…


    A bit of a silly thought, but I wonder if the writers called Harriet “Harry” for a reason? Certainly sounds a lot like “Mary” to me…

    It’s possible that Harry was meant to represent John’s internal struggle with himself, while also reflecting on his relationship with Mary and possibly how he felt about engaging in it. Like he was lying. Like he was throwing his actual love for somebody he cared about away just so that he could live a life that would have appealed to his parents… he even started a bit of a drinking habit himself. It also (in my honest opinion) explains why he would cheat on Mary. I personally think he felt as if he was already betraying her with his love for Sherlock and impulsively did something in an attempt to solidify his own guilt— give himself an actual, tangible reason as to why he should feel guilty for marrying her aside from “because he was in love with Sherlockbecause that particular truth was even more difficult to admit. John isn’t a bad man, it was really only texting and I think he was trying to fool himself into thinking he wasn’t good. Because he felt guilty for lying to her the moment Sherlock came back into his life again. Because she was no longer the person he wanted once they married each other. Sherlock had finally confessed, at their wedding nonetheless. He loved Sherlock more and he felt guilty for reciprocating those feelings, even if he reciprocated them in silence and was wed to Mary anyways… who knows.