Ficlet: Sherlock, "A Matter of Perspective"
Title: A Matter of Perspective
Fandom: Sherlock
Pairing: None! Gen!
Rating: PG (swears)
Word Count: 547
Summary: John Watson vs. a vending machine.... and Sgt. Sally Donovan.
While on a case John had learned to grab something to eat whenever he could. Sherlock was sure as hell not going to pause for such dull things like basic human needs for survival. John was hungry, and he wanted chocolate.
With all the technological marvels existing in the world today, John had to wonder why mankind was unable to perfect the vending machine. The metal spiral whirred and spun, pushing forward the brightly wrapped candy bar. Then the spiral had some kind of seizure, started to grind instead of whir, and finally stalled without relinquishing its chocolate bar.
John swore at it. He grabbed the machine and gave it a shake. The bar stayed in place. He glanced quickly around to make sure no one was watching and gave it a hearty kick.
The result was two very satisfying thumps, one from the kick itself and the other from the candy bar finally falling from its ledge to the bottom of the machine. He snatched it out and started to tear at the wrapper when a voice behind him made him jump.
"I have a theory about you."
John spun around and came face to face with Sergeant Donovan.
"Sorry?" He asked around a mouthful of chocolate.
"You must be as mental as he is."
"What, for kicking a vending machine?"
"No." Although she did give him a judgmental eye, trying to decide whether or not it was worth reporting attempted damage to police property. "The way I see it, Sherlock Holmes doesn't like normal people. He likes you, ergo you're not as normal as you seem."
"Ergo?"
"It means-"
"I know what it means."
"So what's wrong with you then?"
"Nothing," John said, and swallowed his last piece of chocolate.
"There's got to be something. It's not just that the freak likes you, but you must actually like him."
He shrugged. "I guess I do."
"And that's mental! How can you possibly like him?"
"Well...he's smart, fun, does interesting things."
"He's also rude, arrogant, and an all around tosser."
"So is Anderson," John shot back.
Sally stiffened. She wasn't going to let her indignation get the best of her. She had dealt with many people in interrogation who try to turn the conversation around, get personal, try and shake her up. She knew to ignore it and persist in her own line.
"I don't know anyone who can tolerate his presence for more than five minutes, yet you live with him."
"Strong constitution. I've lived in worse conditions."
She tilted her head. That explanation actually made sense to her when she thought about it. "So... Living with Sherlock Holmes is a slight upgrade from living in a war zone."
And sleeping with Anderson is a slight upgrade from fucking a flea-bitten weasel. John smiled at this thought, and Sally smiled back thinking he was taking amusement in her little analogy.
"John! There you are!" Sherlock came sweeping into the canteen. "I've been looking for you everywhere."
"No you haven't."
"I haven't," Sherlock admitted. "I knew exactly where you were. Stop stuffing your face with chocolate and come on!" He spun around, coat trailing behind him.
John said to Sally, "See you later," and ran off after his flatmate.
He heard her call, "Freaks!" He grinned.
Fandom: Sherlock
Pairing: None! Gen!
Rating: PG (swears)
Word Count: 547
Summary: John Watson vs. a vending machine.... and Sgt. Sally Donovan.
While on a case John had learned to grab something to eat whenever he could. Sherlock was sure as hell not going to pause for such dull things like basic human needs for survival. John was hungry, and he wanted chocolate.
With all the technological marvels existing in the world today, John had to wonder why mankind was unable to perfect the vending machine. The metal spiral whirred and spun, pushing forward the brightly wrapped candy bar. Then the spiral had some kind of seizure, started to grind instead of whir, and finally stalled without relinquishing its chocolate bar.
John swore at it. He grabbed the machine and gave it a shake. The bar stayed in place. He glanced quickly around to make sure no one was watching and gave it a hearty kick.
The result was two very satisfying thumps, one from the kick itself and the other from the candy bar finally falling from its ledge to the bottom of the machine. He snatched it out and started to tear at the wrapper when a voice behind him made him jump.
"I have a theory about you."
John spun around and came face to face with Sergeant Donovan.
"Sorry?" He asked around a mouthful of chocolate.
"You must be as mental as he is."
"What, for kicking a vending machine?"
"No." Although she did give him a judgmental eye, trying to decide whether or not it was worth reporting attempted damage to police property. "The way I see it, Sherlock Holmes doesn't like normal people. He likes you, ergo you're not as normal as you seem."
"Ergo?"
"It means-"
"I know what it means."
"So what's wrong with you then?"
"Nothing," John said, and swallowed his last piece of chocolate.
"There's got to be something. It's not just that the freak likes you, but you must actually like him."
He shrugged. "I guess I do."
"And that's mental! How can you possibly like him?"
"Well...he's smart, fun, does interesting things."
"He's also rude, arrogant, and an all around tosser."
"So is Anderson," John shot back.
Sally stiffened. She wasn't going to let her indignation get the best of her. She had dealt with many people in interrogation who try to turn the conversation around, get personal, try and shake her up. She knew to ignore it and persist in her own line.
"I don't know anyone who can tolerate his presence for more than five minutes, yet you live with him."
"Strong constitution. I've lived in worse conditions."
She tilted her head. That explanation actually made sense to her when she thought about it. "So... Living with Sherlock Holmes is a slight upgrade from living in a war zone."
And sleeping with Anderson is a slight upgrade from fucking a flea-bitten weasel. John smiled at this thought, and Sally smiled back thinking he was taking amusement in her little analogy.
"John! There you are!" Sherlock came sweeping into the canteen. "I've been looking for you everywhere."
"No you haven't."
"I haven't," Sherlock admitted. "I knew exactly where you were. Stop stuffing your face with chocolate and come on!" He spun around, coat trailing behind him.
John said to Sally, "See you later," and ran off after his flatmate.
He heard her call, "Freaks!" He grinned.